(On TV, September 1999) It’s hard to see where a soft-porn film about car crashes can go wrong for any young male, but David Cronenberg’s film never amounts to anything beyond a collection of brief sex scenes. And even then, most of those are cut so quickly as to be insignificant. If it’s supposed to be an exploration of sex versus machine, it doesn’t do a whole lot of exploring. The lack of development is such that once the superfluous is cut out, there can’t be much more than fifteen minutes of plot left. (At least Deborah Kara Unger is very hot, so much that she makes plain-looking Holly Hunter look ridiculous in comparison.) Say what you want about porn films, but most of them contain both more plot and more excitement -and, possibly, more realism- than Crash.