Crank: High Voltage is a visceral experience. It is so insane, so perverse, so racist and misogynistic, that it can only be one of two things. It's either one of the most despicable pieces of garbage ever filmed, or it’s actually an incredibly self-aware piece of subversive satire. This is a film that has been dismissed by critics as a fun B-level action flick at best, and a morally offensive junkyard at worst. But I think there’s a certain level of intelligence running through Crank 2’s orgy of debauchery. In fact, I would go as far to say that this is a film that’s going to be studied in film classes years from now, not as any sort of “classic” by any stretch of the imagination, but as a piece of quasi-avant-garde filmmaking that had its finger on the pulse of a generation.
I recently re-watched Crank: High Voltage with my parents, both of whom loathed the film and found it to be borderline pornographic in its depiction of women and violence. My mother said it was like a fantasy for white Southern “bubbas.” She’s absolutely right. Take the stereotypical image of a white trash, politically conservative male – the kind who idolizes guns, frequents strip clubs and still uses the n-word – and give that guy a video camera. This is probably what you’d end up with.