Crash [4K UHD]

Joseph Campbell once observed, "what we're searching for in life is not a MEANING to life. What's the meaning of a flower? What's the meaning of a flea? [Or ... what's the meaning of an automobile crash for that matter?] What we're searching for is an experience of being alive."Cronenberg's "Crash" takes Campbell's observation to a place very few would dare go. And that's precisely Cronenberg's mission. To give the audience an experience of truly being alive, in post-postmodern society where, as Spader ponders in the beginning of the film, "doesn't it seem like there's more and more traffic on the highways these days?"So there is. And what traffic represents is oppression and the enslavement of humankind to what Marshall McLuhan described in his seminal 1951 book, "The Mechanical Bride."Cronenberg takes this mechanical bride to her ultimate logical, or more precisely, organic conclusion. Since she's no fun to "drive" anymore, why not crash these babies instead, and feel the FULL IMPACT of what it's like, to live, to be injured, to get hurt, to have sex with a crash victim (a person society otherwise labels "freak"), to FINALLY FEEL SOMETHING. Hence the natural association with car crashes and sex. There's an almost inherent frisson connecting the two.One can't help but be reminded of Michael Douglas abandoning his car in the middle of rush-hour traffic in the film "Falling Down," or the hilarious opening scene in Mike Judge's "Office Space," where an elderly person with a walker is actually moving faster on the sidewalk than the cars on the adjacent road, heading for the "canyons of commerce," the mindless jobs where we waste away our lives pursuing economic concerns, rather than following "a hero's path," rather than "following our bliss," or doing anything which TRULY turns us on. In other words, Cronenberg's point is, "we're driving ourselves insane."And when any technology becomes TOO intense, or ... TOO INSANE (McLuhan would term this technology "too hot"), it tends to reverse itself, like a flip-flop. One could call that a revolution. And at hundreds of thousands of RPM, where will this revolution go? Watch "Crash" and find out, then think about walking home from the theatre instead. Maybe THAT will be sufficient to awaken you to the experience of being alive you seek. For assuredly, the mechanical bride is death on 4 wheels, one way or the other. Might as well make it "fun!"It's tragic in a mind-blowing way that in late-20th, early-21st century, an experience of being alive should involve physical harm, mutilation, "accidents" by the misapplication of machines. Death. One is reminded of Gary Jules' version of "Mad World" as popularized by another wild "experience of being alive" movie - "Donnie Darko." Jules laments, "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, that the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." Apply this to "Crash" and it's no longer funny. Just very, very sad.But instructive.If telecommuting (that is, working from home) ever became common business practice, there would be no more (or certainly less) need for the infernal congestion of cars on the roads and thus, a pressing need for a counterirritant to this critical problem. Cronenberg turns "road rage" into "road rape," but at least the "victims" are having the experience of a lifetime, perhaps their final one at that. But what a way to go!As character and "crash guru" Vaughn in the movie explains, "James Dean crashed and died in 1955, and became legend." Isn't that what we all yearn to be - "legendary," unforgotten, heroic persons - not just mindless numbers in the book of "death and taxes."Ask most of us what our greatest experiences of being alive have been, and "orgasmic relationships" or "strong romantic attachments" will top the charts of response. Little wonder then that "Crash" is so autoerotic (pun intended).Now, I'm hardly suggesting we all go out and crash our cars and form a group of crash-fetish salacious fanaddicts. I just daydream, as Cronenberg does here, of a world WITHOUT cars, WITHOUT the need to spill seed in the backseat of a turbo-charged Buick or Crown Victoria, going 100 mph, careening out of control on the highways and byways of America.Cronenberg's allegory is very ANTI-automobile. He wants to see them ALL go up in flames. While at the same time, giving the drivers, and by vicarious experience, his loyal viewers - an experience of being alive we'll never forget. Cronenberg doesn't want to kill or maim us, but he does want to (and succeeds in so doing) entertain us and, beyond that, remind us that, one way or the other, ALL of us are "dying a little bit behind the wheel" each time we go for a drive. Cronenberg is trying to get us to see beyond road rage and transcend our reliance upon mechanical beasts of questionable transit but undeniable frustration. In other words, where is the "road sage?" Would that we could all become such a being. Cronenberg's "Crash" gives us a hint at who this sage, or sages, might be, even if they are, by banausic standards, more than a bit twisted, as in "twisted metal."In any case, with a cast of superstars like Holly Hunter and James Spader, "Crash" must not be missed (but since the action is going at crash speeds, you might want to hurry and pick up your copy as fast as possible before it speeds off into the night to an uncertain but guaranteed-adrenaline-rush denouement). But do be advised ...Buckle up for this one. Or ... if you'd prefer ... don't.

David Cronenberg’s Crash is a study of incredibly sick people who share a mutual fetish involving sex and car crashes, which means that it’s also one of the most disturbing films ever made. Even after seventeen years, the film has lost none of its potency.I’ve been writing on the subject of film for a very long time. As a result, I like to think that I am fairly thick-skinned as far as adult content is concerned. In all of that time, one film has consistently given me the creeps no matter how many times that I see it. That film is Crash. Each time that I have watched this film, I keep asking myself, “Why? Why are you watching this? How is this film going to benefit you in any way, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually?” These are all valid questions, and my answer to each one of them is this: “I have no idea.”
Crash is a somewhat provocative and intellectual film, which explores some interesting – if entirely troubling – ideas. In many ways, Crash is typical Cronenberg in the way that the film explores the effects that car crashes have on the human body. If you are familiar with Cronenberg’s work, you will note that he is quite preoccupied with the functions of the human body – in this case, the American obsession with vehicles and the extreme sexual implications of that obsession.In the film, a man named James Ballard (James Spader) is drawn into an underground club of fetishists who derive sexual pleasure from viewing, and being part of, violent car crashes. The leader of the group is a horribly scarred man named Vaughn (Elias Koteas, in one of his best performances), who regularly stages re-enactments of celebrity car crashes, and whose philosophy is deeply rooted in the “reshaping of the human body by modern technology”. One of his followers, a woman named Gabrielle, is clad in a full body brace which nearly renders her immobile and in constant need of assistance – in effect, the physical manifestation of Vaughn’s twisted delusions.Both James and his wife, Catherine, spend most of their days carrying out sexual exploits with other partners, only to come home and reveal the graphic details to one another. Right from the start, we see that their relationship is a bit on the unorthodox side, and so it is not entirely absurd that these two people would fall into a cult such as this one. Thankfully, the film never offers any easy answers to ease the audience. We are thrown into the pit along with these morally repugnant individuals to watch their sick fantasies play out. Those looking for the “point” of it all will be sorely disappointed. This is a film about the nature of obsession and unexplainable desire, and there are no pat or contrived explanations to be found.The sex scenes within the film are graphic and unsettling, as these people come together simply as a means to an end. The sex within the film is devoid of emotion and, more often than not, unapologetically shocking. Crash earns its NC-17 rating and then some. With this being said, these scenes sit comfortably within the context of the film, pulling us even further into the dreary, rain-drenched world of flesh, metal, and steel that Cronenberg has created.Crash is a noteworthy film. However, whether or not you should choose to subject yourself to this sort of material is entirely up to you.

I use the product to watch the movie on my TV.There are two versions on this DVD, based on how steamy you can handle it. Amusingly, the scene that makes many men wish they were born as airplane wings, is cut differently between the two versions, and neither one matches what I saw in the theatre. You can see either the airplane wing being given a buffing, or that guy kneeling down to inspect the landing gear, but not both in the same viewing. Of course I'll put up with it. It has Deborah Kara Unger in it, plus one other Canadian who is pretty good himself, and a few Americans who aren't too bad either. If I could take only one Cronenberg movie with me to be stranded on a deserted Island, it would be either this movie (Crash) or Videodrome (which includes another notable Deborah).

Einer meiner Lieblingsfilme in hervorragender Qualität.

Après un grave accident de la route, James Ballard nourrit une étrange fascination morbide pour les blessures et se lie physiquement avec la passagère de la voiture d'en face. Sorti en salles en 1996, Crash est un film canado-britannique écrit et réalisé par David Cronenberg. Il s'agit d'une adaptation du roman du même nom de J. G. Ballard, publié en 1973.Aussi bien s'agissant du livre que du film, on a affaire à des oeuvres austères, voire glauques. Nul autre que David Cronenberg (La mouche, Faux-semblants, Existenzz...) ne pouvait mieux traduire cette atmosphère en demi-teinte, où la névrose, voire la psychose, affleure(nt) sous le désir, dans un univers alliant béton, armatures métalliques et cicatrices corporelles.Évidemment, pour apprécier un tel univers, il faut être soi-même un peu fêlé à l'âme. J'assume...

puro Cronenberg, film straordinario, disturbante ed indimenticabile

What an awsone movie! One of Chronenberg's most addictively diaturbing masterpieces!