Crash. The sound of racial stereotypes colliding in Los Angeles. And most other places too.
The point being that prejudice is ubiquitous. The most common hardly ever dressed up in a hood or plastered with swastikas. And it goes all the way up the chain of command. And it’s by no means whites versus everybody else. It permeates the entire human race. And that’s before we get to things like gender, age, disabilty, sexual orientation, ethnicity etc.
As a white male, I only know what I’ve seen in all these years. And this film merely scratches the surface. Why? Because you need to go deep down into the working class if you want to see real stereotyping. In action, for example.
IMDb
[b]Annie Proulx, author of Brokeback Mountain, wrote a strong polemic against this one in the British newspaper “The Guardian”, venting her disgust and disappointment that her film was beaten by Paul Haggis’ at the Oscars, one of the Academy’s more controversial decisions in years.
The story of Officer John Ryan and his father comes from a piece of hate mail Paul Haggis received while he was working as a writer in the TV series Family Law.
Two Koreans were intentionally cast as the “Chinese” couple to underscore the fact that most non-Asians cannot or don’t care to differentiate between the various Asian nationalities and instead choose to refer to all of them (Chinese, Korean, Thai, Japanese, etc.) as “Chinese”, like the characters in the movie do.[/b]
CRASH [2004]
Written and directed by Paul Haggis
[b]Graham: It’s the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. 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. You don’t think that’s true?
Ria: Graham, I think we got rear-ended. I think we spun around twice. And somewhere in there, one of us lost our frame of reference. And I’m gonna go look for it.
…
Motorcycle Cop: Calm down, ma’am.
Kim Lee: I am calm.
Motorcycle Cop: I need to see your registration and insurance.
Kim Lee: Why? Not my fault! It’s her fault! She do this!
Ria [approaching]: My fault?
Motorcycle Cop: Ma’am, you really need to wait in your vehicle.
Kim Lee: Stop in the middle of street! Mexicans! No know how to drive! She blake too fast!
Ria: I “blake” too fast? I “blake” too fast? I’m sorry, you no see my “blake lights”?
Motorcycle Cop [to Ria]: Ma’am…
Ria [to Kim Lee]: See, I stop when I see long line of cars stop in front of me. Maybe you see over steering wheel, you “blake” too.
Motorcycle Cop [to Ria]: Ma’am…
Ria: Officer, can you please write down in your report how shocked I am to be hit by an Asian driver?
…
Gun Store Owner [to Farhad]: Yo, Osama! Plan a jihad on your own time. What do you want?
Farhad: Are you making insult at me?
Gun Store Owner: Am I making insult “at” you? Is that the closest you can come to English?
Farhad: Yes, I speak English! I am American citizen.
Gun Store Owner: Oh, God, here we go again.
Farhad: I have right like you. I have right to buy gun.
Gun Store Owner: Not in my store, you don’t! Andy, get him out of here now!
Dorri [to Farhad]: Go, wait in the car.
Farhad [to Gun Store Owner]: You are ignorant man!
Gun Store Owner: I’m ignorant. You’re liberating my country, and I’m flying 747s into your mud huts and incinerating your friends? Get the fuck out of my store!
…
Anthony: Look around! You couldn’t find a whiter, safer or better lit part of this city. But this white woman sees two black guys, who look like UCLA students, strolling down the sidewalk and her reaction is blind fear. I mean, look at us! Are we dressed like gang-bangers? Huh? No. Do we look threatening? No. Fact, if anybody should be scared around here, it’s us: We’re the only two black faces surrounded by a sea of over-caffeinated white people, patrolled by the triggerhappy LAPD. So you tell me, why aren’t we scared?
Peter: Because we have guns?
Anthony: You could be right.
…
Jean: I would like the locks changed again in the morning. And you know what, you might mention that next time we’d appreciate it if they didn’t send a gang member…
Rick: A gang member?
Jean: Yes, yes.
Rick: What do you mean? That kid in there?
Jean: Yes. The guy in there with the shaved head, the pants around his ass, the prison tattoos.
Rick: Those are not prison tattoos.
Jean [Interrupting]: Oh really? And he’s not gonna go sell our key to one of his gang banger friends the moment he is out our door?
…
Rick: Fuck! Why do these guys have to be black? I mean, why? No matter how we spin this thing, I’m either gonna lose the black vote or I’m gonna lose the law and order vote!
Karen: You know, I think you’re worrying too much. You have a lot of support in the black community.
Rick: All right. If we can’t duck this thing, we’re gonna have to neutralize it. What we need is a picture of me pinning a medal on a black man. Bruce? The firefighter - the one that saved the camp or something - Northridge… what’s his name?
Bruce: He’s Iraqi.
Rick: He’s Iraqi? Well, he looks black.
Bruce: He’s dark-skinned, sir, but he’s Iraqi, his name’s Saddam Hassif.
Rick: Saddam? His name’s Saddam? Oh, that’s real good, Bruce. Yeah, I’m gonna pin a medal on an Iraqi named Saddam. Give yourself a raise, will you?
…
Ryan [on phone]: I wanna talk to your supervisor…
Shaniqua: I am my supervisor!
Ryan: Yeah, what’s your name?
Shaniqua: Shaniqua Johnson.
Ryan: Shaniqua. Big fucking surprise that is!
…
Christine: [to Cameron] Fuck you, Cameron!
[to Ryan]
Christine: And you, keep your filthy fuckin’ hands off me! Ow! You fucking pig!
Cameron: Christine, just stop taking.
Ryan [to Christine]: That’s quite a mouth you have.
[to Cameron]
Ryan: Course, you know that.
Christine: Fuck you! That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You thought you saw a white woman blowing a black man, and that just drove your little cracker ass crazy!
Cameron: Christine, shut your fuckin’ mouth!
Ryan: I’d listen to your husband, Ma’am. Put your legs open. Now, do you have any guns or knives or anything I might get stuck with?
…
Christine: What I need is a husband who will not just stand there while I am being molested!
Cameron: They were cops for God sakes! They had guns! Maybe I should’ve let them arrest your ass. Sooner or later you gotta find out what it is really like to be black.
Christine: Fuck you, man. Like you know. The closest you ever came to being black, Cameron, was watching The Cosby Show.
Cameron: At least I wasn’t watching it with the rest of the equestrian team.
Christine: You’re right, Cameron. I got a lot to learn 'cause I haven’t quite learned how to shuck and jive. Let me hear it again. Thank you, mister policeman. You sure is mighty kind to us poor black folk. You be sure to let me know next time you wanna finger-fuck my wife.
Cameron: How the fuck do you say something like that to me? You know, fuck you!
Christine: That’s good. A little anger. It’s a bit late, but it’s nice to see!
…
Anthony: You wanna listen to music of the oppressor, you go right ahead, man.
Peter: How in the lunacy of your mind is hip-hop music of the oppressor?
Anthony: Listen to it man. Nigga this, Nigga that. You think white people go around callin’ each other “honky” all day, man? “Hey, honky, how’s business?” “Going great, cracker, we’re diversifying!”
…
Anthony: You have absolutely no idea where hip-hop music comes from, do you? See, back in the 60’s we had smart, articulate black men. Like Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Eldridge Cleaver, Fred Hampton. These brothers were speaking out, and people were listening! Then the FBI said, “No, we can’t have that. I know, let’s give the niggers this music by a bunch of mumbling idiots and sooner or later, they’ll all copy it, and nobody will be able to understand a fucking word they say. End of problem.”
…
[thump]
Anthony: What the fuck was that, dawg?
[Peter gets out and looks under the truck]
Peter: Holy shit!
Anthony: What?
Peter: Man, we done ran over a Chinaman.
Anthony: You’re sayin’ there’s a Chinaman under this truck?
Peter: What part don’t you understand? There’s a Chinaman stuck underneath the fucking truck!
…
Lucien: You watch the Discovery Channel?
Anthony: Not a lot.
Peter: They got some good shit on that channel.
Lucien: Every night there is a show with somebody shining a little blue light and finding tiny specks of blood splattered on carpets and walls and ceiling fans, bathroom fixtures and special-edition plastic Burger King tray cups. The next thing they show is some stupid redneck in handcuffs who looks absolutely stunned that this is happening to him. Sometimes the redneck is actually WATCHING the Discovery Channel when they break in to arrest him. And he still can’t figure out how on earth they could’ve caught him!
[pauses]
Lucien: Psst. Do I look like I wanna be on the Discovery Channel?
Anthony: No.
Lucien: Then get the fuck outta my shop.
…
Anthony [while Peter takes his St. Christopher out of the stolen Lincoln Navigator]: Oh yeah, make sure you get that. Without him, things could’ve gone really fucking wrong tonight.
…
Graham [on the phone]: Mom, I can’t talk to you right now, okay? I’m having sex with a white woman.
[hangs up]
Graham: OK, where were we?
Ria: I was white, and you were about to jerk off in the shower.
…
Ria: You want a lesson? I’ll give you a lesson. How 'bout a geography lesson? My father’s from Puerto Rico. My mother’s from El Salvador. Neither one of those is Mexico.
Graham: Ah. Well then I guess the big mystery is, who gathered all those remarkably different cultures together and taught them all how to park their cars on their lawns?
…
Anthony: Only reason black people steal from their own is 'cause they terrified of white people.
Peter: Oh, man, please.
Anthony: Think about it. Sherman Oaks. Burbank. Santa Monica. All scary-ass places for a brother to find himself. Drop Mo Phat at a Starbucks in Toluca Lake, that nigger will run like a rabbit soon as somebody say “decaf latte.”
…
Fred: Cam, you got a second?
Cameron: Yeah, Fred, I just wanna grab some coffee.
Fred: Yeah. Listen. I think we need another take, buddy.
Cameron: That looked pretty terrific, man.
Fred: This is gonna sound strange, but is Jamal seeing a speech coach or something?
Cameron: What do you mean?
Fred: Have you noticed, uh… this is weird for a white guy to say, but have you noticed he’s talking a lot less black lately?
Cameron: No, I haven’t noticed that.
Fred: Really? Like in this scene, he was supposed to say, “Don’t be talkin’ 'bout that.” And he changed it to, “Don’t talk to me about that.”
Cameron: Wait a minute. You think because of that, the audience won’t recognize him as being a black man? Come on!
Fred: Is there a problem, Cam?
Cameron: Excuse me?
Fred: Is there a problem, Cam?
Cameron: No, we don’t have a problem.
Fred: I mean, 'cause all I’m saying is it’s not his character. Eddie’s supposed to be the smart one, not Jamal, right? You’re the expert here. But to me, it rings false.
Cameron: We’re gonna do it one more time.
Fred: Thanks, buddy.
…
Ryan: You know what I can’t do? I can’t look at you without thinking about the five or six more qualified white men who didn’t get your job.
Shaniqua: It’s time for you to go.
Ryan: I’m saying this 'cause I’m hoping that I’m wrong about you. I’m hoping that someone like yourself, someone who may have been given a helping hand, might have a little compassion for someone in a similar situation.
Shaniqua: Carol, I need security in my office!
Ryan: You don’t like me, that’s fine. I’m a prick. My father doesn’t deserve to suffer like this. He was a janitor. He struggled his whole life. Saved enough to start his own company. Twenty-three employees, all of them black. Paid 'em equal wages when no one else was doing that. For years he worked side by side with those men, sweeping and carrying garbage. Then the city council decides to give minority-owned companies preference in city contracts. And overnight, my father loses everything. His business, his home, his wife. Everything! Not once does he blame your people. I’m not asking you to help me. I’m asking that you do this small thing for a man who lost everything so people like yourself could reap the benefits. And do you know what it’s gonna cost you? Nothing. Just a flick of your pen.
Shaniqua: Your father sounds like a good man. And if he’d come in here today, I probably would’ve approved this request. But he didn’t come in. You did. And for his sake, it’s a real shame. [to security] Get him the hell outta my office.
…
Ryan: Wait till you’ve been on the job a few more years.
Hanson: Yeah.
Ryan grabbing his arm]: Look at me, look at me. Wait till you’ve been doin’ it a little longer. You think you know who you are, hmm? You have no idea.
…
Flanagan: Fucking black people, huh?
Graham: What did you just say?
Flanagan: I mean, I know all the sociological reasons why, per capita eight times more black men are incarcerated than white men… Schools are a disgrace, lack of opportunity, bias in the judicial system, all that stuff… But still… but still, it’s… it’s gotta get to you, I mean, on a gut level, as a black man. They just can’t keep their hands out of the cookie jar. Of course, you and I know that’s not the truth. But that’s the way it always plays, doesn’t it? And assholes like Lewis keep feeding the flames. It’s gotta get to you.
…
Flanagan: Actually, we were thinking of you until we saw that. It’s your brothers file. Twenty something years old and already three felonys. Three Strikes Law, the kid’s going away for life for stealing a car. Christ, that’s a shitty law. There’s a warrant in there. But still, he had every opportunity you had. Fucking black people, huh?
Graham: So, uh… all I need to do to make this disappear is to frame a potentially innocent man.
Flanagan: What are you? The fucking Defender of All Things White? We’re talking about a white that shot three black men and you’re arguing with me, that maybe we’re not being “fair” to him? You know, what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re right. Maybe Lewis did provoke this. Maybe he got exactly what was coming to him. Or, maybe, stoned or not, being a black man in the valley was enough to get him killed. There was no one there to see who shot first, so there is no way way to know. Which means, we could get this wrong. Maybe that’s what happened with your brother. Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe Lewis isn’t the only one who deserves the benefit of the doubt. You’re the one closest to all this. You need to tell us. What does your gut tell you?[/b]
Conklin is going down.
[b]Cameron [to Anthony]: Look at me. You embarrass me. You embarrass yourself.
…
Lara: He doesn’t have it!
Elizabeth: [confused] He doesn’t have what?
Lara: I have it. He doesn’t have the impenetrable cloak!
…
Lucien: I’ll take the van.
Anthony: They’re chained to the van.
Lucien: So I’ll take them too.
Anthony: You wanna buy these Chinamen?
Lucien: Don’t be ignorant. They’re Thai or Cambodian. Entirely different kind of chinks.
Anthony: What the hell are you gonna do with 'em?
Lucien: Sell 'em. What you think? I’ll give you $500 apiece, and you can keep the van.
…
Graham: Mom, I promise. I promise. I’ll find whoever killed him.
Graham’s Mother: Oh, I already know who killed him. You did. I asked you to find your brother, but you were too busy for us. We weren’t much good to you anymore, were we? You got things to do. You go ahead. I’ll sign the papers.
…
Jean: Do you want to hear something funny?
Maria: What’s that Mrs. Jean?
Jean: You’re the best friend I’ve got.
…
Anthony: Everybody out, man. You’re free to go. All right, come on. Come on now! This is America. Time is money. Chop, chop! Come on, y’all. Come on. That’s $40. Buy everybody chop suey. You understand? Dopey fucking Chinaman.
…
Shaniqua [after her car is hit from behind]: Ahh! Oh, my God. What the hell is wrong with you people? Uh-uh! Don’t talk to me unless you speak American![/b]