Review of "Crash" by Catherine M. Barsotti and Robert K. Johnston
Crashes and Cloaks—Just Metaphors?
Crashes and Cloaks—Just Metaphors?
Who likes a car crash?! We certainly don’t—whether it’s being involved in one, driving by one, or hearing about one. It’s such a horrible way to be introduced to strangers. When we saw the movie Crash (2005) for the first time we had the same feeling. A host of people from diverse backgrounds (race, culture, class) had come into our lives, but the introduction was brutal. Crash even left us feeling run-over, so to speak, making us retroactively aware of our own prejudices. Perhaps for this reason we felt compelled to see it again, in order to understand ourselves better within a story that, at least initially, seems to thrive on misunderstanding.
The film opens and closes with scenes of the same car crash. LAPD police detective, Graham (Don Cheadle), reflects, “It’s the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A. nobody touches you. We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.” His fellow officer, Ria (Jennifer Esposito) lets him muse as she jumps into the fray of the accident. Within seconds she and another woman are shouting at each other racial jibes. This sets the tone for the rest of the movie and its attempt to make palpable the intolerance which is often engendered as we encounter an “other.”
The action shifts between the seemingly disconnected lives of numerous characters, colliding with each other in sometimes unbelievable ways. (It is in the style of Grand Canyon, Short Cuts, Thirteen Stories About One Thing, and Magnolia.) What is common to all of these individuals is that they live under the weight of stereotypes, prejudice, fear, racism, and hatred, both in what they experience themselves and what they project on others. Every character is a fractured participant with their own blind spots. No one is innocent, and by implication, neither is the viewer. As one cop says to his rookie partner, “You think you know who you are. You have no idea.”
This movie may not be for everyone and yet, in some sense, it should be required viewing for every mature teen and adult (particularly of a denomination that states in its constitutional preamble, “The Evangelical Covenant Church is committed to reaching across boundaries of race, ethnicity, culture, gender, age and status in the cultivation of communities of life and service.”). Sometimes we need stories which force us to see our worst side (our sinful nature), so that we are stunned enough to live into our best side (our divine image). As Flannery O’Connor said, “…to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost blind you draw large and startling figures.” And Crash, at its best does just that, with the help of its ensemble cast (including Terrence Howard, Thandie Newton, Matt Dillon, Ludacris, Sandra Bullock, Brendan Fraser, Ryan Phillippe, Shaun Toub, and Larenz Tate).
However, not all reviewers give the movie high marks. For several its contrived web of stories is just too much, too unbelievable. Some critics suggest that if people really treated each other as portrayed in the film, Los Angeles, or any other city, wouldn’t survive. (But the symptoms of intolerance and hatred are all too real--consider Paris, Amman, or Jerusalem.) Likewise its portrayal of race and culture clashes is too heavy-handed for some; too programmed and predictable for others. Or as one critic says, “It tells too much and shows too little.” (Perhaps because director Paul Haggis suffered his own traumatic real-life encounter with a pair of armed carjackers a few years ago.)
Such criticisms while partially valid, misunderstand the power of story by confusing literal truth for real truth. As David Bakan notes, “A metaphor or a fiction might open a door that cannot be opened by approaches that are too weighed down by duty to literal truth.” Think of Jesus’ parables. They were filled with a real truth that transformed people’s lives.
When a story helps us feel the truth of our own brokenness, we can begin to take steps, even small ones, to become whole, individually and as a community. But only if we have eyes to really see. Otherwise we merely gawk at the “crash” scene and blame others for the state of affairs. A “crash” can make us stop and recognize the mess we’ve created, such that we commit ourselves to change—starting with our own attitudes and behaviors. And then we must risk—by helping the hurting, working for justice for victims, understanding the perpetrators, and fostering reconciliation. Stories can help us have the courage to be a community that cares enough to back each other up regardless of gender, race, culture or status.
We were especially taken by a father and daughter story in the film—Daniel and Lara—who modeled a love and courage in the midst of this “crash” of introductions, cultures, stories, pain and joy. Daniel gently and creatively teaches Lara how she can face the world without fear by telling her a story. Lara, after hearing the story of the magic cloak from her father, runs to his aid in a time of great danger, without thinking of herself. “I’ll protect you Daddy,” she calls. Her act of fearlessness and love also changes the life of another man who doesn’t even know her, yet calls her his angel. Lara can affirm proudly, “It’s a really good cloak.” Again, just a metaphor, not unlike, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” (Colossians 3:12)
While
a relatively low-budget film ($6.5 million mostly raised by Don Cheadle),
Crash struck a chord with many as it made more than $50 million
in the theater. Crash is rated R, due to violence, language and
sexual scenes.
Catherine M. Barsotti
Robert K. Johnston