To say I was slightly confused after watching this film was an understatement.
Was I supposed to now understand something about autoeroticism that I hadn't previously? Had the plot actually gone anywhere? I felt, and sometimes still do, that I had missed something that was crucial to the story and once discovered, the whole film would click into place.
Upon a second viewing, the cool and calculated direction of such abrasive subject matter by the masterful David Cronenberg drew me into the lives of these characters with such hypnotic force, I was left breathless.
Like the novel itself, Crash is a quite simply a beautiful work of art about quite an ugly subject. Despite the controversy surrounding it, it remains a visual tour de force, the camera at times simply a neutral observer, at others, a prowling predatory monster (see the opening montage). For those who allow themselves to be totally submerged in the atmosphere of a film, Crash is an experience unlikely to be repeated. For others, it will be a cold, emotionless myriad of one sex scene after another.
Think hard about indulging in this film however if sex scenes tend to offend you, it can be truly shameless at times and without conscience.