Crash

Hands down the best book-to-film adaptation I’ve ever seen. I’m genuinely shocked at how perfect of a translation this is. I came away from the novel with mostly mixed feelings, finding it incredibly repetitive and, sadly, boring for how wild its subject matter is. There’s only so many times I can hear about bodily fluids atop “chromium instrument binnacles.” I came away from the movie, however, with a new understanding of Ballard’s book and his characters; a better appreciation for the strangely hypnotic quality of Ballard’s novel. Nearly everything in the film is taken directly from the book, including probably 90% of its dialogue which leads to how fucking surgical and (obviously) mechanical everything feels. I am shocked how perfectly Cronenberg’s adaptation managed to feel EXACTLY like the book and somehow also improve upon it in a way that allows both to be all the better. Like necessary companions, one compliments the other; they make each other make sense. As Ballard explains in a conversation with Cronenberg that’s on the Criterion print of the movie, both film and novel almost hypnotize the reader/viewer over their durations. Maybe there is more to these characters and their philosophies than one first thinks.  Plus, James Spader is the fucking coolest. On the same disc, there’s also a Cannes press conference with the cast where Spader is dripped the fuck out in like tweed or something with these tiny sunglasses. He rips cigs the whole time and blows smoke up into the rafters like he’s Lee Van Cleef. Ice fucking cold. Cronenberg is rapidly becoming my favorite director. Can’t decide if I liked this or Videodrome better.