text: Through its 2-hour running length, Crash charts the emotional anguish of its 10-odd ensemble of characters when faced with the sometimes blatant and sometimes latent forms of racism underlying in American society. That and the emotional anguish of one of its audiences sitting near the front and desperately trying to make sense of what movies have become these days.<br /><br />The era we live in has become so complicated. Not only do we reject modernism, even the not very enthusiastic flag-waving of post-modernism ideas is always being shot down by what, post-post-modernism that aims to destroy all these ideas, all in no part thanks to the great destructivist ideas of those great 'thinkers'. But I digress. This has nothing much to do with the what the movie is about, but rather what the movie is.<br /><br />Sure, it seems hard to earn a living in a Hollywood that has to cater to a market that is so post-post-post everything that cynicism has become more than just a motto in life. It has become part of everything we do and part of everything we think of whether we like it or not. And so a new studio product is born! Indie films, which once were energetic and idealistic in its defiant experimentalism now seem to be as equally adamant as Hollywood films to sell to indie film markets. An indie film must sell at Sundance before becoming 'acclaimed'. And so nothing is simple anymore. Even what constitutes a good film becomes so murky. Whereas in the past filmmakers just wanted to entertain people and tell a good story--and in these seemingly simplistic attempts the greatest of films are borne--filmmakers nowadays have to make films that are good first and foremost; films have to make people think, have to be meaningful, has to be provocative, raise questions, yadda yadda yadda. What it all boils down to, is a subversion of the Hollywood movie system, but this subversion seems strangely similar to the formulaic similarity of Hollywood films, the countless ways of differing to essentially be the same product.<br /><br />And I haven't even begun on the film yet. Maybe I've become too picky on films I see these days. Maybe it's because of my primary need to be entertained, rather than, say, be probed when seeing a movie. But hell, this movie is one big load of crap. And I'm repulsed by this movie not just because it follows the How to Make a Good Movie Good 101 guidebook to the T--characters spout eloquent lines and are sooo witty like they're gifted with the speech of God; it raises issues about racism and life confronting racism in America; it has 'touching' moments where everyone discovers more about themselves and more about other people; not to mention the fact that once you hear the ambient/new age soundtrack of women singing in high registers in foreign languages, you know you're in for all of the above traits.<br /><br />And something about the aforementioned point--about it raising questions about immediately-compelling issues like racism--pisses me off big time. Like all post-post-post-post-post everything movies, it doesn't contend with just having a message about this issue. Because oh, our audiences are much to intelligent for that these days in this post-post-post-post world. Our audiences want us to make them think, doesn't want us to put things so simplistically, (and then they will go into existentialist crap and say) that's because life itself isn't simplistic. Ha ha ha. What other common drill do we here then the audience need to think about issues rather than have them fed to them. Okay, okay, and okay. So the film makes it a point to pound the audiences with these non-messages and since they're not exactly a message, it's so decidedly subtle and subtle means good right? So we're being hit again and again with this well-written subtlety with the eloquence of rhetorical prose. And as if the irony is not steep enough, we have Ludicrous' character, the only character who seems to not take all these racism discussion bullshit seriously, being 'converted' into one of those irritatingly meaningful characters where he learns something in the end, giving meaningful looks and pauses where audiences are supposed to 'learn something about themselves too'. Um, yeah. How I wanted to see an incredibly racist film right after this man.<br /><br />To cut the long bullshit short, I guess I wouldn't have taken issue with the film if it wasn't so bloated in its self-importance. The angst that forms the entire movie felt more like white-boy whining than actual Spike Lee-ish anger. It's so Tim Robbins and Sean Penn, the type that wants to wave flags about humanitarianism when the only thing they don't realize is the flag they're waving is their hole-ridden underwear. Plus it's become so trendy in the post-post-post-post world to be completely subtle about it. Nothing is simple any longer. In its best efforts to actually be good, provocative, and ultimately human, it's become neither, imho, just another indie crap from an indie director that wants to make a name out of himself as a credible indie-filmmaker. Now at least Hollywood is more simple and sincere in its manipulativeness.