After getting into a serious car accident, a TV director discovers an underground sub-culture of scarred, omnisexual car-crash victims who use car accidents and the raw sexual energy they produce to try to rejuvenate his sex life with his wife.
After developing an addiction to the substance he uses to kill bugs, an exterminator accidentally murders his wife and becomes involved in a secret government plot being orchestrated by giant bugs in a port town in North Africa.
A young woman develops a taste for human blood after undergoing experimental plastic surgery, and her victims turn into rabid, blood-thirsty zombies who proceed to infect others, which turns into a city-wide epidemic.
The residents of a suburban high-rise apartment building are being infected by a strain of parasites that turn them into mindless, sex-crazed fiends out to infect others by the slightest sexual contact.
Riding across Manhattan in a stretch limo in order to get a haircut, a 28-year-old billionaire asset manager's day devolves into an odyssey with a cast of characters that start to tear his world apart.
Since a road accident left him with serious facial and bodily scarring, a former TV scientist has become obsessed by the marriage of motor-car technology with what he sees as the raw sexuality of car-crash victims. The scientist, along with a crash victim he has recently befriended, sets about performing a series of sexual acts in a variety of motor vehicles, either with other crash victims or with prostitutes whom they contort into the shape of trapped corpses. Ultimately, the scientist craves a suicidal union of blood, semen, and engine coolant, a union with which he becomes dangerously obsessed. Written by
Matt A. Knapp <email@example.com>
After Vaughan repeatedly crashes the left front bumper of his Lincoln into a junker James Ballard is sitting in, causing major damage to the bumper and the lights, Vaughan is soon shown driving on the highway with no damage to the bumper and both left lights operational. See more »
The car crash is a fertilizing rather than a destructive event.
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David Cronenberg's CRASH is one of the worst pieces of cinematic trash I have ever witnessed. I give an enormous amount of credit to some of the cast members (Holly Hunter, especially) for participating in such crap. She obviously saw something erotic or dangerous in the script. I saw idiocy, stupidity, and unnecessary pain. I did not know whether to laugh or vomit, but I somehow made it through.
The film involves an over-sexed James Spader, who 'crashes' into a car with a half-naked Ms. Hunter, killing the driver, and seriously injuring Spader's leg. In the hospital, the film's forced sexuality never stops, considering a visit Spader gets from a handy blonde. Through a series of weird events and experiences involving automobiles I would rather not get into, the film's self-important message is clear: How modern technology changes the human body i.e. car crashes.
First of all, we've been presented this message in countless other ways. Cronenberg has just found a sick and explicit way to present it. Secondly, what these characters think and do exist only to 'present' this overblown message. They have no other duties, ideas, character traits, or appeal other than to go wild sexually in all kinds of cars, car washes, and car chases. What is this? Neo-Industrial Revolutionary filmmaking? No, it is garbage.
One-note: Rosanna Arquette appears as a good-looking Darth Vader. Only anyone who has seen this will know what I mean. This is in no way a recommendation, and this has been a fun waste of time discussing bad cinema.
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