vukaroo

Honestly, I don't know how to describe Cronenberg's controversial picture of 1996, based on the J. G. Ballard novella, in any other way than as a total descent into madness.

I'd say that it was quite popular in the 90s, for films to establish an atmosphere; almost a parallel reality, which was common for directors like Lynch and Cronenberg. Howard Shore's score augments the sed mood of this film. Between the visuals, soundtrack, and plot, there's a rather dreamlike tone for its 100 minute running time.

The world of "Crash," is almost completely void of the senses and the only thing we ever find out about the characters is that they are perversely hypersexual. They have collectively reached a point where there the lines between pleasure & pain and life & death are all blurred.

In the film, we're basically led to believe that the characters are brought together by some cosmic chance; yet, perhaps, the point is to highlight the possibility that your neighbor, or the person standing next to you on the street has the same deeply ingrained perversion as you. In the case of "Crash," sexual arousal is triggered by horrid automobile accidents.

I'm sure that few have ever made this comparison, but "Crash" metaphorically reminds me of Clive Barker's "Hellraiser." In Barker's horror classic, humans submit themselves to a world where the lines between pain and pleasure are interchangeable, and become monsters destined to live in a hellish S&M loop. In the same way, the characters in "Crash" become like vampires, feeding off of every potential opportunity to "get off" on the next big crash. It's as if the most gruesome automobile accident is the pinnacle of orgasms.

"Crash" leaves you with too many questions, such as, what are the possible traumas that lead each character to the point of perversion? I'm convinced that the crashes, themselves, were not enough of a catalyst. What are the backstories of the characters? I haven't read the novella, so maybe there is more to the story. Regardless, Cronenberg establishes a "junkie-like" setting where dialog and emotion disappear in exchange for a quick fix of metallic damage and carnal delights...

First of all, I had 0 expectations for this film -0; however, time has shown us that Netflix productions don't feel cinematic and have a, what's the word? Oh, yeah, cheap feel. This cheapness is apparent from the beginning of Axel F. It's like a parody of a classic. Better yet, it's like a car insurance commercial that ties in classic movie characters. Take the beginning of the film; the cop exalting Axel at the hockey game looks and acts like a random YouTube dude reviewing 80s movies. From that very moment, I knew that I'd have a difficult time being immersed.

The thing that makes the original BHC so special, aside from the period, is the fact that the story is simple and develops in a natural way. This immediately gives way for its snappy pacing. That's not even remotely the case for this movie. Axel F (2024) simply drags in more places than one. So, now, on top of the dragging, we have Eddie Murphy who clearly lacks the panache that we know and love. I get it, he's not a 20 something year old anymore. He's made it in the entertainment industry and now anything that he's involved in is basically a post-career bonus. That's all fine, but it shows, WAY too much. Since I had such a difficult time being drawn in, even the presence of other classic characters meant very little to me.

Sure, musical cues and songs from the original are peppered throughout the film, but it's just not enough to beef up this stale outing. The film tries too hard to be nostalgic while being "reinforced" with cliches. I was already having my doubts, but when Axel's estranged and unlikable daughter is actively thrown into the mix, it nearly completely killed the mood. Axel is one of the only action/comedy characters that doesn't need a romantic partner to thrill the audience. When he admits to his daughter that he's celibate, that's the most on point line in the film: we don't need a daughter, we don't need a wife, all we need are Axel's quips and wit.

Bruckheimer had 30 years to get it right, but just like so many other franchises, it seems that the ship has sailed. I don't know if I chuckled more than twice in 2 hours. When Serge appears for the first time in BHC 1, I don't know if I had ever laughed that hard in my life. By the point at which he appears in Axel F, I was already like "cool, yeah, Serge..." And sorry, Billy Rosewood is vital to a BHC film, so having that character practically absent is a crime. I haven't even mentioned Joseph Gordon-Levitt or Kevin Bacon, but what's the point?

I know this isn't Bergman, Fellini or even Marty Brest, but calling this a sequel to at least 1 and 2 is embarrassing. BHC 1 and 2 are feel good movies of their time. If we want a nostalgia fest, we may as well invest in Comic Con tickets. There is virtually no originality in Axel F and it looks like yet another film where corners are cut, just to say "look, we made a new sequel!" In my opinion, it's only worth resorting to the seminal 1984 classic, whose script is tighter than a suspension bridge cable. The comedic timing is impeccable, Eddie is fresh, there's suspense, camaraderie, originality, and style. Number 1 is the benchmark, 2 follows suit, and that's about that. I give Axel F a 3 for a few brief moments, but hiring a director whose debut is a sequel, to a classic franchise, and bringing it to the TV screen, nonetheless, via Netflix, is worse than any crime committed by Detective Grant (Kevin Bacon), in this mess of a film.