i really don’t give a fuck that this is a Crash reskin. this shit is going to save us from the elevated horror scourge. there is a reason the cronenberg brand has persevered for close to half a century, and let’s be real, this shit is a brand now that brandon is stepping up to the plate.

despite a majority of these movies (or at least the most notable ones) having the thematic crux of “the industrial revolution is metastasizing around us every day and this facet of it rightfully scares the shit out of me”, they are all so wildly unpredictable and stylistically unique from the last that it doesn’t even matter that they share so much dna with each other. 

i know i’m definitely being a perpetuator of brandon’s very apparent nepotism-fueled insecurities, as explored in this movie. but it’s difficult not to be when assessing something so obviously and unabashedly from the offspring of one of the most esoteric filmmakers to ever live.

this movie wholly rocks in its own right. the element of this that isn’t a contemporary class-commentary (that admittedly is sort of half-baked) is inevitably going to carry this movie through years and years of well-deserved cult-status. super gross and super fun while also leaving you with a lot to chew on long after the credits roll. let’s go, brandon!!!