Hey, it's snowing! And we're all racists!
So I finally saw Crash on Wednesday. I didn't hate it. I was mostly worried the movie would piss me off, but it didn't really offend me. It didn't really say anything that I thought was untrue, but it didn't say anything revelatory, either. Its messages were very Race Relations 101. I couldn't help but feel that this movie was very obviously written by a white person. And although I was trying hard not to let the Haggis backlash get to me while I was watching it, I can't say with absolute certainty that my opinions were not subconsciously affected by what I've read from others.
Since I don't believe there should be a statute of limitations on movie spoilers (I am the annoying person clapping her hands over her ears and shouting, "Don't tell me what happens to Brando and Pacino at the end; I haven't seeeeen iiiiiiit yetttttt", I will afford everyone else the same courtesy and put more specific discussion behind an LJ cut.
(I apologize for the use of a DMB lyric, but I always think of that song when I see this movie's title.)
My biggest gripe is that there was too much "tell, not show." Anvilly dialogue is something I feel I struggle with, so it's something I'm very sensitive to. Clunky lines were a problem right from the opening monologue:
Don Cheadle: 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.
That's a line right out of Baby's First Screenplay. Unfortunately, not even Cheadle could save it.
Ludacris, whose performance was otherwise fine, was saddled with the worst racial exposition, as the token Angry Black Man Who Can't See His Hypocrisy Past the Chip on His Shoulder:
Ludacris: Fact, if anybody should be scared, it's us: the only two black faces surrounded by a sea of over-caffeinated white people, patrolled by the triggerhappy LAPD.
What is this, DeShawn's Creek? I mean, who talks like that? And this isn't the old quasi-racist "he doesn't sound... black" argument exemplified by Tony Danza's character later, in the Linguistics and Racism section of the movie.
I thought the film was much stronger when its outrageousness was demonstrated by the characters' actions instead of their words. The most effective scene was Matt Dillon's curbside violation of Thandie Newton while his partner and her husband looked on. It was shocking (yet not exploitatively filmed, considering), but it was the perfect distillation of this country's racial and sexual politics, pushed to their extreme. The complex power dynamics among white men, black men and black women were captured in this metaphor of a white cop molesting a black woman while forcing-but-not-forcing her wealthy black husband to apologize for the ordeal.
It's not that I believe this kind of thing really happens in L.A. all the time (at least not in such a concentrated dose). But I think that good movies aren't necessarily supposed to be exact replicas of reality. Instead, they should be more like fun-house distortions, figuratively and artfully enlarging abstract truths and bringing them to the audience's attention.
In Crash's DVD commentary, either Haggis or Bobby Moresco (his co-writer and co-producer) mentioned that the film was realistic but could also be seen as a modern-day fable. I disagree with the first sentiment, but I think he is spot-on with the latter. I have a much better time accepting Crash as an allegory of sorts, where the characters are free to be symbols of shaded aspects of racial frustration, rather than token Racists with Hearts of Gold masquerading as supposedly layered human beings.
Aside from the writing (what? non-racial discussion of Crash?), I thought it was a really well-made film. Sensually, it was gorgeous, particularly the lighting and the score. The performances were all strong. Although I was not surprised by any of the connections between characters (really-who didn't realize it was gonna be Luda or Larenz Tate as soon as Cheadle's mom started talking about his little brother?), the ensemble was well-managed. The pacing was just fine and the transitions (i.e. a character exiting through a door in one scene cutting to another character elsewhere entering through a doorway) were clever. Some people might find that kind of thing cheesy, but I like it.
My favorite character was the locksmith. Funnily enough, I think he was one of the few characters who did not actually offer any views on race. He was reacted to (or, should I say, "against") racially, but we never really saw what his thoughts were on those incidents. The scene with his daughter under the bed could have been sappy but, thanks to the performances, came off really sweet. I was terrified when the Persian storeowner confronted him, because I thought Crash might be that cheap kind of movie (nothing I hate more than the Tragic Misunderstanding)... I didn't realize it was more the cheap sentimental kind of movie. (Really -- snow in southern California? It was kind of cheesy in Sunnydale, and it was kind of cheesy here.) But anyway, I bawled the first time when his daughter came running out, and I bawled again when I rewatched the movie with the commentary track. Nice work there.
I know a lot of you guys blogged your thoughts on the movie when everybody else saw it in the theaters last year, but I was trying to avoid spoilers, so if you kindly link to your posts in the comments, I'll be sure to read them all.
***
I should say that despite my criticism of Crash, I'm glad this movie got made. I'm very much against the idea that people don't have the right to write about identities other than their own; to me, that kind of biased thinking is completely counter-productive. But my hope is that white men writing about race leads to mainstream audiences (read: white people) being more open to racial discussions from other (minority) sources.
A UCSB study published five years ago on the demographics of Hollywood writers found, unsurprisingly, that the field is dominated by white men (and relatively young ones, at that). This is-also no surprise-largely unchanged from the state of the industry twenty years ago.
"It's a matter of whose stories get told," said Denise Bielby, one of the sociology professors behind the study. "Even when we see persons of color or minorities featured in prominent roles in a Hollywood production, the story is almost always told from the perspective of a white, male writer."
Again-I don't necessarily have a problem per se with young, white male writers writing minority characters. We shouldn't bite the hand that feeds. But more and more I feel like adopting writers' diversity as a pet cause and encouraging minorities (Asians!) who are so inclined to venture into the arts (you don't have to be a doctor!).
Since I don't believe there should be a statute of limitations on movie spoilers (I am the annoying person clapping her hands over her ears and shouting, "Don't tell me what happens to Brando and Pacino at the end; I haven't seeeeen iiiiiiit yetttttt", I will afford everyone else the same courtesy and put more specific discussion behind an LJ cut.
(I apologize for the use of a DMB lyric, but I always think of that song when I see this movie's title.)
My biggest gripe is that there was too much "tell, not show." Anvilly dialogue is something I feel I struggle with, so it's something I'm very sensitive to. Clunky lines were a problem right from the opening monologue:
Don Cheadle: 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.
That's a line right out of Baby's First Screenplay. Unfortunately, not even Cheadle could save it.
Ludacris, whose performance was otherwise fine, was saddled with the worst racial exposition, as the token Angry Black Man Who Can't See His Hypocrisy Past the Chip on His Shoulder:
Ludacris: Fact, if anybody should be scared, it's us: the only two black faces surrounded by a sea of over-caffeinated white people, patrolled by the triggerhappy LAPD.
What is this, DeShawn's Creek? I mean, who talks like that? And this isn't the old quasi-racist "he doesn't sound... black" argument exemplified by Tony Danza's character later, in the Linguistics and Racism section of the movie.
I thought the film was much stronger when its outrageousness was demonstrated by the characters' actions instead of their words. The most effective scene was Matt Dillon's curbside violation of Thandie Newton while his partner and her husband looked on. It was shocking (yet not exploitatively filmed, considering), but it was the perfect distillation of this country's racial and sexual politics, pushed to their extreme. The complex power dynamics among white men, black men and black women were captured in this metaphor of a white cop molesting a black woman while forcing-but-not-forcing her wealthy black husband to apologize for the ordeal.
It's not that I believe this kind of thing really happens in L.A. all the time (at least not in such a concentrated dose). But I think that good movies aren't necessarily supposed to be exact replicas of reality. Instead, they should be more like fun-house distortions, figuratively and artfully enlarging abstract truths and bringing them to the audience's attention.
In Crash's DVD commentary, either Haggis or Bobby Moresco (his co-writer and co-producer) mentioned that the film was realistic but could also be seen as a modern-day fable. I disagree with the first sentiment, but I think he is spot-on with the latter. I have a much better time accepting Crash as an allegory of sorts, where the characters are free to be symbols of shaded aspects of racial frustration, rather than token Racists with Hearts of Gold masquerading as supposedly layered human beings.
Aside from the writing (what? non-racial discussion of Crash?), I thought it was a really well-made film. Sensually, it was gorgeous, particularly the lighting and the score. The performances were all strong. Although I was not surprised by any of the connections between characters (really-who didn't realize it was gonna be Luda or Larenz Tate as soon as Cheadle's mom started talking about his little brother?), the ensemble was well-managed. The pacing was just fine and the transitions (i.e. a character exiting through a door in one scene cutting to another character elsewhere entering through a doorway) were clever. Some people might find that kind of thing cheesy, but I like it.
My favorite character was the locksmith. Funnily enough, I think he was one of the few characters who did not actually offer any views on race. He was reacted to (or, should I say, "against") racially, but we never really saw what his thoughts were on those incidents. The scene with his daughter under the bed could have been sappy but, thanks to the performances, came off really sweet. I was terrified when the Persian storeowner confronted him, because I thought Crash might be that cheap kind of movie (nothing I hate more than the Tragic Misunderstanding)... I didn't realize it was more the cheap sentimental kind of movie. (Really -- snow in southern California? It was kind of cheesy in Sunnydale, and it was kind of cheesy here.) But anyway, I bawled the first time when his daughter came running out, and I bawled again when I rewatched the movie with the commentary track. Nice work there.
I know a lot of you guys blogged your thoughts on the movie when everybody else saw it in the theaters last year, but I was trying to avoid spoilers, so if you kindly link to your posts in the comments, I'll be sure to read them all.
***
I should say that despite my criticism of Crash, I'm glad this movie got made. I'm very much against the idea that people don't have the right to write about identities other than their own; to me, that kind of biased thinking is completely counter-productive. But my hope is that white men writing about race leads to mainstream audiences (read: white people) being more open to racial discussions from other (minority) sources.
A UCSB study published five years ago on the demographics of Hollywood writers found, unsurprisingly, that the field is dominated by white men (and relatively young ones, at that). This is-also no surprise-largely unchanged from the state of the industry twenty years ago.
"It's a matter of whose stories get told," said Denise Bielby, one of the sociology professors behind the study. "Even when we see persons of color or minorities featured in prominent roles in a Hollywood production, the story is almost always told from the perspective of a white, male writer."
Again-I don't necessarily have a problem per se with young, white male writers writing minority characters. We shouldn't bite the hand that feeds. But more and more I feel like adopting writers' diversity as a pet cause and encouraging minorities (Asians!) who are so inclined to venture into the arts (you don't have to be a doctor!).