|Director/Writer/Producer:|| David Cronenberg|
|Director of Photography:||Peter Suschitzky|
|Production Designer:||Carol Spier|
|Fine Line; NC-17; 98 minutes|
|Cast:||James Spader, Holly Hunter, Elias Koteas, Deborah Kara Unger and Rosanna Arquette|
|Based on the novel by J.G. Ballard|
We finally get to judge Crash for ourselves. At its premiere at the 1996 Cannes Film Festival, audiences were racing for the exits, unnerved by the disturbing, explicit sex scenes and the controversial subject matter. Whether you tough it out or cover your eyes, Crash is worth the pain. Though not enjoyable, you will admire the acting, the chutzpah of Cronenberg and the thought-provoking intelligence of the film. Commercial producer James Ballard (Spader) and his wife, Catherine (Unger), both kinky and adventurous, are bored with each other but get off on the details of each other's affairs. Ballard satisfies his sexual appetite after a near-fatal car crash with Dr. Helen Remington (Hunter), whose husband died in the wreck. They both were turned on by the crash and want to relive the experience. Ballard and the nice doctor join a car-crash fetish cult headed by Vaughan (Koteas), a wacko who reenacts famous crashes. Gabrielle (Arquette), a crash victim who wears leg braces, fishnet stockings and leather, rounds out the perverse circle of friends.
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