"Crash" is a determinedly challenging affair. It asks tough questions and refuses to provide easy answers. Exploring race relations in America with a sequence of altercations of every form -- white against black, Persian against Hispanic, black against Asian and every combination thereof -- "Crash" is often riveting and, at times, unsettling. While it does not approach the heights of Spike Lee's similarly-themed "Do the Right Thing" or Paul Thomas Anderson's fable of human interconnectedness "Magnolia," it is evocative and accomplished enough in its own right to merit a viewing.
"Crash" revolves around the intertwining fates of several Los Angeles residents during the course of a hectic 24 hours. In the film's version of Los Angeles, carjackings, hold-ups and murders are the norm. The car is the primary setting for action, as everyone drives around, feeling protected behind the thick glass windows. The film uses a crisscross multi-character approach, moving forward swiftly, never dwelling on an event, but later revisiting the characters involved in subsequent racially-charged situations.
There are some fine actors in the lead, including Don Cheadle as Graham Waters, a black detective with a drugged-out mother and criminal brother; Matt Dillon as a racist cop who harasses a black couple (played by Thandie Newton and Terence Howard); Ryan Phillippe as his young, idealistic partner; and Sandra Bullock as the wife of the district attorney (Brendan Fraser) whose car is stolen at gunpoint by two black thieves (Chris 'Ludacris' Bridges and Larenz Tate). The performances are exceptional throughout. All the actors are well-cast and play their roles with conviction, though Shaun Toub, a little-known Persian actor, is the cast standout as an immigrant store owner whose shop is vandalized.
While the characters' personalities are uniformly interesting, they suffer from a distinct lack of authenticity. This is director Paul Haggis' second feature film. Previously relegated to small-screen features, Haggis, a Canadian screenwriter, recently gained fame with his Oscar-nominated screenplay for last year's knockout "Million Dollar Baby." True to his roots as a scribe, and in an attempt to depict the hard-bitten reality and pessimism of daily life in a sprawling metropolis, Haggis has carved out characters of convenience. They often are used as vehicles for monologues and racially-charged exchanges penned in advance by Haggis. Upon seeing tattoos on an honest Hispanic locksmith, the district attorney's wife (Sandra Bullock) turns a normal situation into a squabble laced with familiar racial slurs and stereotypes. That serves as a blueprint for all other exchanges in the film.
Subtlety is not Haggis's forte (a quality that gave emotional weight to "Million Dollar Baby" but that detracts from "Crash"), so the film's themes -- race, life and morality -- are not left to be discovered by an intrigued audience. They are plastered over every frame, smother every speech and are clarified with every event, often to the point of frustration. There are undeniable moments of power -- such as the heart-breaking scene between the Hispanic father and his daughter -- but they are crushed beneath the excessive expositions in the rest of the film.
The concept of quiet catharsis is lost on Haggis, as his preference for dialogue over images dilutes the film's impact. Conversations are entrancing but do not endure; images, on the other hand, are transient, but unshakeable. It is hard to shake the feeling that Haggis' superlative script would have been better realized by a more experienced director. It is less disappointing to see a truly bad film than to witness a potentially great film be reduced to a merely good one.
While the criticism may sound harsh, it should not deter those interested from seeing the film. Haggis is primed for great things: "Crash" is not a misfire, but a missed opportunity. By alternating between scenes of bigotry and subsequent redemption, Mr. Haggis' approach brings a necessary balance to the subjects. Although there is excessive talk, the discussions have a fierce intelligence to them. In one scene, Dillon's racist cop, in a moment of desperation, articulately explains his ill father's tolerant life to a black woman he racially insulted the night before. We gain a deeper understanding of his condition and the reasons for his resentment -- however unjustified they may be.
After viewing Crash, many in the audience will do some soul-searching. A few will quickly recover, others will remain uncomfortable and there may even be some who are not disquieted by the film. It is the subject, more so than the film, that inspires such reactions: intolerance is hard to comprehend and even harder to resolve. "Crash" is a courageous addition to the cinematic library on the subject, and for that reason alone it is recommended.
