
The Long Hangover of the Roaring Eighties
By TOM DEIGNAN
|This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

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Back in 1985, Brett Easton Ellis opened “Less Than Zero,” his novel about young Southern Californians unable to connect, with the less-than-subtle double entendre: “People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles.” Twenty years later, Paul Haggis’s film “Crash” extends the simile: Unable to merge, Angelenos instead smash headlong into one another. “In L.A. nobody touches you,” a groggy accident victim ruminates in the movie’s first scene. “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.”

By TOM DEIGNAN
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By SHARON KEHNEMUI
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By MATTHEW RICE
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By CARL ROLLYSON
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By SHARON KEHNEMUI
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By JEFFREY WELLS
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By SHARON KEHNEMUI
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By JOSEPH CURL
|Back in 1985, Brett Easton Ellis opened “Less Than Zero,” his novel about young Southern Californians unable to connect, with the less-than-subtle double entendre: “People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles.” Twenty years later, Paul Haggis’s film “Crash” extends the simile: Unable to merge, Angelenos instead smash headlong into one another. “In L.A. nobody touches you,” a groggy accident victim ruminates in the movie’s first scene. “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.”
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