The opening scene of the film forms part of a montage that introduces us to two of the central characters:  Catherine and James.  Within these initial scenes, we are dropped into Cronenberg’s interpretation of Ballardian fiction, immediately obtuse and somehow lacking a centre. 

As we experience the evolution of the characters, it is immediately apparent that both Catherine and James are unique of mind and spirit.  We are accustomed to being able to relate to the main characters in film, but in this case Cronenberg throws up strange alien types, whose motivations and reactions are seen as though through an invisible wall.  In other words, both Catherine and James are already half way to some other place.

This is the immediate challenge of the film.  Crash, for most mainstream audiences, is full of people, situations, and conclusions that have caused much consternation.  However, the focus for most commentators tend to be around issues of censorship, of sex and crashes.  It should be apparent from this opening scene that while there is plenty of material for commentary around the predictable posturing of what is acceptable and what is not, the fact is that we’re cheated out of easy condemnation by the nature of the characters.  From the outset they’re not real.

In order to appreciate the genesis of these characters, audiences are to be reminded that the movie has a literary basis.  Cronenberg has remained true to JG Ballard’s work, these are not simply the characters of the Crash novel brought to life, they are in many ways the characters from all of JG Ballard’s writing.  Suggesting one read the novel in order to fully understand the film is inappropriate, a film should stand on its own, but in the case of Crash having knowledge of character types through the novel can quickly answer the more obvious questions (a complete review of the novel - chapter by chapter – is available on this site.)

And so to the movie, with the opening shot of the side of a small aircraft, parked in a hangar.  Panning slowly across the shiny metal surface, we settle upon the phallic fuel tank of another plane, its smooth curves glistening as though with sweat.  Then the camera takes off once again and flies toward a Piper Cub, a small plane that is being used for training purposes.  We slide toward its huge nose cone, like a huge breast, before gliding left to reveal Catherine, alone, pulling her blouse back to expose breasts contained within a virginal white brassiere.  It’s as though she is about to make love with the plane itself, no-one else is in sight, there are no sounds of vehicles or planes coming into land or taking off.   

Catherine is clearly aroused by her proximity to the plane, to its technology.  This is the first instance when are presented with a person brought to sexual intrigue by an inanimate piece of engineering.  Clearly her relationship to the plane is not what we would expect, Catherine is feeling things we can hardly understand.  This is a central theme of both the novel and the film, the inclusion of everyday objects into sexual situations.

In society today it is common for men and women to react this way to objects, but it’s not as overt.  For example, men skirt around worship of their cars, washing them incessantly, shining them, tuning them to perfection and beyond.  It is reasonable to see this worship presented in such an overtly sexual manner, after all, what we readily accept is a preciousness, a worship of engineering. 

Catherine exposes her right breast, placing the nipple onto the surface of the fuel tank, among the rivets of the wing mounting. 

The initial questions asked here form as a riverbed throughout the movie:  When we fail to connect at a human level, we connect with something else.  We put meaning, value, into all kinds of things in our lives - collectables, jewellery, pets.  For Catherine, she finds herself sexually aroused by this powerful muscular machine.  Perhaps this is not so odd after all?

Finally a man enters from the rear.  Catherine doesn’t acknowledge him, but it's clear he's a lover.  There is no dialog, and he will make love to her as she submits her body, but not her mind, to this encounter.  She in turn is channelling the sexual energies through her contact with the plane, dragging her lips across its metal sheen, resting her head against it.  He is clearly a subjugate. 

In this opening scene, we are presented with the first of an off-kilter orgiastic threesome.  We see Catherine’s strange attraction to mechanical technology, her detachment from the sexual act as her lover approaches from behind and lifts her skirt.  Catherine is almost expressionless, as though high on some sedative, hypnotized by an out of body experience.  If nothing else, we know she’s different from the rest of us, in need of some obscure stimuli.  The lover is non-descript, and as viewers we never become engaged by him.  This reflects Catherine's own feelings.  This male "lover" can be engaged physically, but mentally he's a non-entity, a prop.