My Perfect Ending for Crash
We launch into the hackneyed Magnolia rip-off that closes the movie, with a C-list Aimee Mann warbling some treacly swill and sad, stoic wide shots of the protagonists thinking very hard and meaningfully about fate and race and the tragedy of it all. Look! There's Don Cheadle, thinking. He's so sad. Why? And then thwok--an arrow strikes him in the neck. He goes down. Look! There's Sandra Bullock! She was a racist, but now her maid who is a different race from her is her only friend. She's sad, too. Thwok. Arrow in the neck. She falls. Hey! It's Ludacris. He's bad, but also good for freeing those slaves he found. Also, he's black. He unlocks the van. Out pour the slaves. Freedom! Thwok thwok thwok thwok. A hail of arrows.
Cut to a close-up of an Indian in full head-dress. A solitary tear rolls down his grizzled cheek. He slings his bow over his shoulder, turns, and slowly walks away into the Los Angeles hills. Sadly.