Crash (2004)

A Brentwood housewife and her D.A. husband. A Persian store owner. Two police detectives who are also lovers. An African-American television director and his wife. A Mexican locksmith. Two car-jackers. A rookie cop. A middle-aged Korean couple. They all live in Los Angeles. And during the next 36 hours, they will all collide. 'Crash' takes a provocative, unflinching look at the complexities racial tolerance in contemporary America. Diving headlong into the melting pot of post-9/11 Los Angeles, this urban drama tracks the volatile intersections of multi-ethnic characters as they struggle to overcome their fears while careening in and out of one another's lives. In the gray area between black and white, victim and aggressor, there are no easy answers.

Not to be confused with David Cronenberg's 1996 bizarre sex-odyssey of the same name, Crash tells the initially convoluted tale of a group of lost souls in modern day Los Angeles who are affected by racism and prejudice in one form or another. We're introduced to Rick and Jean Cabot (an unexpectedly effective Brendan Fraser and Sandra Bullock), a District Attorney and his wife who are carjacked one evening by two young criminals (Chris "Ludacris" Bridges and Larenz Tate); Graham Waters (Don Cheadle), a somewhat morose detective who's sleeping with his partner (Jennifer Esposito) and searching for his missing brother; straight-laced police officer Tommy Hansen (Ryan Phillipe) and his partner, a remorseless racist named John Ryan (Matt Dillon); Cameron and Christine Thayer (Terrence Howard and Thandie Newton), a television director and his wife who are assaulted and abused by Ryan during a traffic stop; Daniel Ruiz (Michael Pena), a devoted father and locksmith; and Farhad (Shaun Toub) and his daughter Dorri (Bahar Soomekh), Persian immigrants who have a disagreement with Ruiz.

At least ten other minor players (portrayed by memorable character actors) make their way into the story as well, but writer/director Paul Haggis (Million Dollar Baby, In the Valley of Elah) doesn't overcomplicate things or allow his audience to become confused by this deluge of faces. Instead, his script unfolds like a languid novel, introducing each new character the moment we've become acquainted with the last and taking extra time to highlight the unseen relationships that unite them all. While not quite as effective as Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia, Crash manages to unite plot and character development into a single, unified whole, offering viewers the chance to examine both racism and the human heart at the same time. Better still, the pure-of-heart are often revealed to be the most hateful bastards, cold shrews become vulnerable victims, and the most vile antagonists actually earn a bit of sympathy. It's this sort of moral ambiguity that gives most of the film its punch. With each character in a constant state of transition and flux, it's possible to love and hate them all with equal fervor.

More importantly, Haggis massages brilliant performances out of all his actors, even from those who have been typecast in mismanaged genre flicks again and again over the years (namely Fraser, Bullock, and Newton). Of course, with a script that doesn't make any definitive statement and with a plot whose only goal is to establish the interconnectivity of mankind, the work of his ensemble cast had to be something special lest the entire film fall apart. I suppose you could take issue with the film's open-ended message, its rather convenient developments, and its at-times strained logic, but I also think that would be missing the point. Crash is meant to be a character study, a glimpse of the very best and worst that people can bring to the table. It brushes wide strokes of love, hate, racism, denial, and rejection onto its canvas, and fuses them with a arguably idealistic philosophy that empathy and forgiveness could settle the world's ills.

Ultimately, a flick like Crash is what film is all about. It divides us, polarizes us, and forces us to question things we'd rather not think about. It presents unlikeable people, disappointing heroes, and surprising villains. It refuses to answer our pleas, instead asking more from us than we're willing to give. Perhaps Haggis duped me into overanalyzing a pretentious ensemble piece, but Crash moved me, made me think, and left me wondering about the people in my life and the manner in which their experiencess have shaped their behavior. As far as I'm concerned, any flick that can do those three things is a great film.

Reviewed by Kenneth Brown