Crash (1996) dir. David Cronenberg Crash, in many ways, is the culmination of Cronenberg's previous body horror work. In Videodrome, The Fly, and Dead Ringers, the eroticism for the grotesque destruction of the body and for medical apparatuses are always present, but not (usually) explicit. Crash, however, explores a world in which these fetishes are not only consciously acknowledged, but are acted upon.
How does this world differ from our own?
Cronenberg encourages us to look for the answer to this question. We watch the film from the perspective of a detached observer. The camera stays several feet away from the actors during sex scenes, instead of focusing on close-ups the way most romances do. The camera stays outside of the car for the most part.
In the car crash-fetishizing community, the men perform dangerous stunts to boost their adrenaline and to show off to women. The man most willing to take things the furthest without admitting fear is the man who consolidates the most power in the group. The women's bodies are objectified, with their individual pieces lusted after for their own sake. Women are beaten and abused. The victims of all this violence are either unseen and ignored, or used and discarded.
It's not too much different than the rest of the world at all.