However, I can’t help but think that somewhere in those missing box office returns is a point that was never made. I remember once going to the theater to watch Seven (rated R), an extremely disturbing (and well-made) film. An unthinking woman waltzed into the theater in front of me, pulling her two daughters, seven and nine years old, behind her. I pulled her aside and implored her: this was not a movie for kids. She dismissed my concerns by claiming that her youngest daughter would fall asleep once the movie started, then sat down and watched the movie. Sure enough, when the lights came on, she and her daughters were nowhere to be seen. By contrast, at the same time, the laughingly bad Showgirls was released, with a rating of NC-17. For some reason, America fearfully sheltered their children from seeing that film; despite the fact that the youngest of schoolchildren knows everything imaginable about sex, our society still fearfully views sexuality as a harmful entity. Put a few dozen bare breasts on screen and suddenly parents run for cover.
         Suddenly, it hit me: This is precisely what Ballard was getting at in Crash : society’s unnatural fear of sex, and its unnatural acceptance of violence. The latter has the most potential for psychological damage, yet it’s freely shown on TV, the movies and the news, available to anyone with eyes and ears. Sexuality, on the other hand, is a very human, natural emotion, yet our children are sheltered from it as from the plague. As a result, because of their natural curiosity, they’re exposed only to the extreme sex one can find freely on the Internet – yet, ironically, they’re not told about the basics. One can only imagine the reduction in STDs and unwanted pregnancies if that “horrible” information was dispersed to the youngest members of society. Indeed, imagine all you want, because it’s not going to happen.
         Ballard, in his infinite wisdom, decided to shake things up. Toss sex and violence into a pot, add water, simmer, and serve. Cronenberg, a very talented filmmaker, grasped this theme and tackled the challenge of translating it to the screen. The result: a politically incorrect snoozer that tried to address all of society’s sexual hang-ups in one fell swoop. It’s too bad, because I feel there’s an important message that was unintentionally trivialized by the production of this film. While I’m sure Cronenberg had nothing but the best intentions, he should have eventually realized that some books just aren’t supposed to made into movies.
         J.G. Ballard knows what he’s doing, there’s no doubt about that; Crash is a fine novel, if you can get past the monotony of Vaughn and Ballard’s bizarre sexual escapades. Car crashes aside, there are disturbing statements in the text, waiting to be uncovered. So read on, and who knows? Maybe if enough time passes, the movie will be forgotten, and the legend of Crash will return.

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