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Sex is far too often presented as reductive surface sensationalism, a buoying excuse to indulge in objectifying hedonism — where dignity is somewhat spared under the guise of “art” and “film” rather than “porn,” a perpetuating agent of the sociological shame with which we equate it. Seldom do we stop to consider the possibilities of its penetrating depths and the potential of intellectual intent or artistic merit. How easy and tempting it is to take the otiose route and afford it only a cursory overlook, arbitrating its shape to please and prioritize our sensual yearnings. Buried below is a wealth of untapped profundity wherein the rawest of revelations lay in wait to be exhumed and explored, granting a dimension to human behavior that’s habitually absent from media depiction.
Ken Russell’s 1984 erotic thriller CRIMES OF PASSION is a sumptuous, sex-drenched feast — the amalgam of every titillating taboo one can imagine. It’s voyeuristic but dimensional, an iconoclastic and vivid declaration of perversion that reaches far beyond its flashy neon visuals and seedy alleyways. Beneath Russell’s sordid florescence rests an astute dissection of the sexual human condition and the dissonance it consequently weathers by way of the gender binary. To be a sexually liberated woman defies code and tradition in that such conduct is objectionable and breeds societal stigma. Joanna Crane cannot coexist with her actual self in such a way that is ethically feasible — instead, she must split herself into two disparate beings: one sexed and one non-sexed, both of which she enforces by manipulating gender expectations as a means of protection and self-preservation. It is the only way she can survive and succeed in both realms simultaneously while still maintaining her unflappable integrity as a career woman.
Joanna’s frigidity originates from a compound of variables, all of which threaten her sexual autonomy and the two separate selves that operate within its realm. Fear dictated diligence of a grand reveal and its consequential avalanche lends itself to a disposition that is both cold and detached, which in turn is fortified by unresolved ambiguities lingering from the disintegrated remains of a past romance. Catharsis in some capacity is vital in order for the act to continue uncompromised and unthreatened, which, for Joanna, exists in an alter ego distinctly opposite enough to act as a place of creative refuge — a sandbox in which she can exorcize her demons without ever having to invoke her conscience. Empowerment rests within her escapism to create a paradoxical fantasy that, while separate from reality, can palpably shape and influence it situationally.
Enter China Blue, a sex worker who matches her alter ego’s ambition with added salacious panache. China is a sexual deity steeped in divinity; a self-trained seductress adept enough to be crowned an honorary succubus. She maneuvers with a controlled malleability, facile yet guarded enough to control her presentation in each and every situation. Whereas Joanna eschews attention, China invites it. She’s unmistakable in her individuality, strutting confidently in a simple yet sexy blue satin dress, red lips pulled into a smirk as her platinum tresses feather gently in the wind. A shape-shifting goddess, no doubt, who can fulfill any role except for that of her own self.
In erecting this identity, Joanna concomitantly establishes a fantasy playscape wherein she can distill omnipotence from the protective comfort of her anonymity. She can abscond into a realm where, as a woman, she is superior. Consider the sample of clients featured throughout the film: they grovel at her feet, supplicating for release on her terms. In the sexual arena, emasculation is rampant — even for the likes of a hardboiled cop, who lets China brutally dominate him in feverish delight. In the heat of the moment, they are just two people — two unknowns — seeking pleasure without any tangible consequences. The very same secrecy that protects Joanna also serves to liberate her male clientele from the reigning expectation of toxic masculinity. It is a lawless wilderness and land of self discovery, a threat to the standing order and therefore vilified to uphold the patriarchal vision.
Joanna’s reclamation of her sexual identity via China is power at its most potent and unadulterated. Her sexual confidence subverts, refutes, and upends societal equilibrium in an unapologetic decree that women can be and are as assertive and ambitious by weaponizing the very thing that has been leveraged against them. Being one of the only women in her workforce makes for a volatile imbalance in which her femininity lands her in a defenseless position, jeopardizing her societal measure to instead suggest that such accomplishments were borne only of a projected sexualization over which she has no control. Unwilling to relinquish her power, she circumvents the issue by embracing masculine ideals, and in doing so affords herself a sense of immunity by discordant queering. In manipulating her presentation, she earns the upper hand and thus can regain control by intentionally drawing attention to herself, on her own terms.
This subversion unsettles her peers and in particular, her boss, who accuses her of stealing designs purely out of emotional disdain. When interrogated for specific suspicions by hired detective Bobby Grady, he cites only irrational grievances regarding Joanna’s comportment. In other words, Joanna must be guilty because she has an aloof disposition, is cold around men, and dresses androgynously. Innocence notwithstanding, her aberrance becomes a source of wanton intrigue for those obsessively bent on deciphering why, potentially obscuring and complicating motivational notions beyond that of framing her as a scapegoat.
Her boss’s fixated resentment is indicative of a larger societal fault, and a marking of his own insecurities. Joanna’s existence and continued success shakes and dislodges the core tenets of the generational toxic masculinity in which he and others are hopelessly entrenched. Years of inherited conditioning coupled with demoralizing threats have cemented and perpetuated the sexist ideology of femininity as being weak and despicable, and thus by proxy inherently inferior. Even just the threat of being seen as effeminate instills a fear both violent and robust enough to uphold this performance of hyper-concentrated machismo — and worse still, encourages targeted projection to prove its proverbial point.
Yet, arbitrary gender norms — and the threat of weighted ignominy they bear — do not discriminate in their persecution and punishment. Consider the demons of Joanna’s two central pursuers, and how they’re grounded in societally imposed insecurities. Where masculinity is a safe haven and means of liberation for Joanna, it imprisons and torments those expected to adhere to its code. Emotional release and vulnerability is inarguably the cardinal incriminating sin under masculinity — and thus it sits, bottled, pressurized, until it vaporizes into a geyser of violent anger. Both Bobby and the Reverend are first introduced in crises of sexual duress — an intentional parallel drawn by Russell that aptly defines the baffling non-logic and relative hypocrisy in how we gender sex. Joanna thrives on account of her sexual potency, but cannot do so without adopting a false identity. Conversely, both men struggle with their virility, but never have to escape themselves in order to explore. In other words, a man can openly flaunt his perversions without judgment — but only if he is confidently rugged.
Neither Bobby nor Reverend Peter Shayne are secure in their masculinity for two vastly different reasons, both of which are engendered by the prickly intersection of gender and sexuality — or in the Reverend’s case, a trifecta that compounds the two with religion. Bobby’s reluctance to accompany his friend to a sexual support group is plenty telling of his hang-up and hyper-fixation, despite the fact he has no direct involvement. When jokingly questioned about his own sex life, his bravado quickly dissipates into defensive frustration, prompting an disproportionately bombastic outburst when forced to even consider the faults of his marriage and his potential sexual inadequacy. It is the very catalyst that sets him on his own revelatory journey — coupled with a suspected fraud investigation that inadvertently introduces him to a sordid, sexual underworld which he has never known.
Bobby tails Joanna as instructed and inevitably learns of her exploits, yet spares her from the systemic sexist consequences his confession would bear by keeping mum. Circumstantial synergy draw the two together: Bobby is struggling in a sex-starved, passionless marriage and returns to see China/Joanna for companionship, smitten by her confidence. Joanna, far more circumspect, masks her burgeoning fondness by maintaining a demeanor of tough indifference — one of the many clues to decoding the mystical motives behind the China persona and the intricacy of her character. Morally adherent though he is, he cannot resist curious temptation, and pays China an anonymous visit of his own. What begins as a frivolous game soon blossoms into a full-fledged emotional affair, posing significant danger to the stability of both their lives.
After making love for the first time, the two descend into an ephemeral episode of mutual hostility on account of their own sexual hang-ups. Bobby feels slighted because China won’t concede her feelings; and China, threatened by the prospect of emotional intimacy, retreats behind her callous exterior. The intensity of their encounter begets a confrontation for which neither is ready, but additionally establishes a safe and burgeoning trust between the two. In China, Bobby rediscovers his sexual confidence — and in Bobby, China slowly thaws to reacquaint herself with emotional intimacy. As they navigate fear on their own terms, they grow close and comfortable. An emboldened Bobby musters up the courage to visit her at home as Joanna; and though initially put off, she acquiesces seconds later in a way that is more than indicative of her underlying feelings toward him. What neither realizes, however, is that their budding relationship is threatened by the shadow of a jealous and tortured lunatic.
To the Reverend, China stands as a beacon of all things wanton and impure — things that he was taught to condemn but actively craves. What starts as intrigue develops into lurid obsession and invokes a disorienting dissonance within. Unable to conjure the confidence to proposition China, the Reverend instead beseeches her openly to seek salvation. In return, she mocks and belittles him, brushing off his pleas with amusement. This does not deter him, and instead emboldens his arousal and obsession. As his confidence grows, so does his instability. Each new encounter imbibes and titillates his budding effrontery until he is robust enough to proposition China without the threat of self-sabotage.
Though Peter makes no secrets of his perversions, he never once expresses any interest or desire to fuck China. He plans their initial arrangement solely to help China find salvation. She scoffs at his offer and refuses, choosing instead to goad him sexually until he can no longer withstand the mounting weight of his arousal. He cracks momentarily to beg God for forgiveness, and then surrenders sexually in allowing China to explore his bag full of sex toys. As her amusement shifts into discomfort, Peter coasts along the opposite trajectory. She asks him to reveal his true identity as he departs, to which he answers, “I’m you.” This enigmatic proclamation, while seemingly trite, lends foreboding insight into the root of Peter’s multifaceted identity complex. A later visitation plays like a reprise of the first: just as sexually fruitless in outcome and full of character denigration.
These interactions unveil a sly reversal of gender play between the two. As the power shifts in China’s favor, she assumes the dominant position; in turn, Peter grows increasingly complacent and dependent, bodying the submissiveness expected and demanded of women within the confines of the gender binary. Eager as Peter may be to be sexually conquered, he refuses to totally submit — instead, each consequent visitation catapults him to unprecedented displays of instability. China eventually refuses his patronage, but her efforts are fruitless. His obsessive frenzy has overtaken his periphery in a bout of psychosis induced tunnel vision. No longer is his behavior an amusing nuisance, but a very real and palpable threat expressed in convoluted means.
Peter is not chasing China because he wants her, nor to “save” her as he so often proclaims, but rather because he wants to be her. He recognizes and sympathizes with her escapism, himself pining to vicariously live through her shoes. China is everything both he and Joanna aren’t, in separate but juxtaposing ways. Peter adopts his Reverend persona to escape from his wanton inclinations, while Joanna leans into her sexual proclivities in order to escape the severe mundanity of her day to day life. In the harrowing buildup to an unforgettably brilliant climax, he broaches the one extant boundary left between himself and Joanna and tails her to her day-to-day workplace. While she is able to escape, she realizes the inevitable is careening ahead at full speed.
It is also worth noting that Peter, in spite of his identity crises, retains an overarching patriarchal sense of entitlement in that he expects her to be constantly available for his own benefit. Her sexual agency is an unnerving point of contention, and something he views as an infringement despite having no right to do so. Thus, China’s agency is unwittingly compromised beyond her control on account of external variables to grimly suggest that even at their most free women continue to face oppression in a patriarchal society.
CRIMES OF PASSION’s gripping finale finds a terrified Joanna squaring off against Peter in her own apartment due to an ill-timed coincidental lapse in judgment. Expecting Bobby, she answers the door and is violently accosted by her aggravated stalker. He locks the two of them inside for one last game in a final bid to grant her salvation. He restrains her and then produces an “ecclesiastic” bladed dildo, revealing that redemption is only possible by way of death. “My mission has always been your salvation,” he proclaims, calling back to his earlier comment in equating his own self and identity with that of Joanna’s. The puzzle finally aligns, revealing it is not Joanna who will or must die — but Peter, who succumbs to his religious ideals rather than accept a transgressive identity that will ultimately brand him an anathema.
After a deranged rendition of Judy Garland’s “Get Happy,” Peter lunges toward Joanna and cuts her loose, proceeding to hand her the knife as he begs for death. When she refuses, he commands her to take out the blue dress. “China Blue lives,” he declares, before adding, “Strip, bitch.” The scene then cuts abruptly and shifts once more to Bobby, who is en route to tell Joanna of his impending separation, hyperbolizing suspense by obstructing the viewer’s voyeurism to show his own distress. It is only after we hear screams that Bobby is able to break through the locked door, conjoining our perspective with his for the grand reveal. “Joanna” is perched silently on the edge of the bed, alive but unresponsive. When Bobby walks past in search of Peter, a masculine silhouette enters the foreground, pausing momentarily before plunging the knife into Joanna’s back. Bobby rushes back into the room to find the slumped body of China Blue, falling to his knees in devastation. A closer inspection reveals that it is Peter who has been stabbed, and that his shadowy assailant is Joanna in drag.
This miraculous confoundment repairs their fractured trust, and the mutual realization is a beautiful sequence to behold. Bobby’s desperation may as well have been a declaration of love on multiple planes, affirming the finality of his choice to leave his ex as well as the ardent care and worry he harbors toward Joanna — even though her peril has significantly waned by this point. When Peter learns that Bobby is en route, he abandons his previous ideas and instead shifts his focus to killing him. Joanna quickly becomes cognizant of this, and despite her aversion to violence, attacks Peter in Bobby’s defense. It is a tacit and mitigating understanding, one that gives both the closure to move on from their past and begin anew. As the final scene pans across the screen, it plays as a direct reflection of the opening shot. Bobby is once again shown attending sex therapy, albeit this time of his own volition. He is no longer antsy, but comfortable. When prompted, he shares that he left his wife and is seeing a woman named Joanna, which is met with warm reception before the screen fades to black.
Joanna no longer has to parade herself about for the thrill of sex now that she’s found someone to love and confide in. Bobby does not judge her for her past actions and sees her for who she is: a human being with a healthy sexual appetite. And through Joanna’s doing, Bobby is humbled and is no longer intimidated by how his sexuality affects his masculinity. In their nascent union, constructs can be created or abandoned free of repercussion or judgment: for at the heart of everything they understand each other not man to woman, but human to human.
CRIMES OF PASSION, at its heart, is an eccentric cross-section of what it means to be human, and how that very essence is often lost to the daunting rigidity of societal structure and order. Expectations become gaping divides in an ever-growing competition to define and differentiate oneself in order to validate a constructive ideal, and often sex is sanitized at its expense. Russell contests this brilliantly in swarths of subversive, subtextually loaded style, celebrating sex as the communicative medium most human of all. No nadir or zenith is left unexplored at his fingertips to gauge the range of human experience good and ill. Never does he condemn his characters for their carnal voracity, either — instead choosing to silently chastise the institutions that psychologically weaponize shame in order to keep appearances. Russell shows us the raw underbelly of the animal in all its shame and glory, and in doing so creates a compelling portrait of love, life, and acceptance where viewers of all kinds can come together and take refuge.
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