An E-Z of a misunderstood culture

Twenty-five-year-old director Justin Kerrigan is talking about his generation: his debut film feature, Human Traffic, is billed…

Twenty-five-year-old director Justin Kerrigan is talking about his generation: his debut film feature, Human Traffic, is billed as the first accurate portrayal of the drugs-and-music lifestyle that has spawned a chemical generation. A full-on, hard-focus ride through pumping techno, popping Ecstasy and snorting coke, this is an all-too-rare mainstream glimpse into how a significant number of today's twenty-somethings live their lives.

The picture, for some, is none too pretty: the people portrayed here don't "do" careers and don't "do" politics. They're too busy getting sorted for Es and whizz.

With club culture finally thrusting its way into the multiplexes, a backlash of sorts has already seen Human Traffic being the most discussed (albeit in a Sunday supplement sort of way) film since Trainspotting. However, while the latter could be safely absorbed because it was just about a bunch of smacked-up junkies living in tenements ("it could never happen here"), this film trawls through the leafy suburbs to illuminate what goes down when the day-job is up and it's time to put the gear on and go clubbing. In short, it's the middle-class version of Trainspotting.

No "junkie scum" on view here, these are the sons and daughters of lawyers, doctors and superintendents who collectively make up the biggest youth culture movement ever. The five central characters work in McJobs - nine hours a day, five days a week - and live for a weekend when, in their own words, "all that exists is clubs, drugs, pubs and parties".

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Set around a single, drug-addled night out in Cardiff, it's a one-off glimpse of a world of vinyl records, mobile phones, combat trousers, guest lists, ecstasy and cocaine. And the vernacular never stretches that far from people "largin' it", "being mashed", "crashing" or "being sorted". With a killer soundtrack featuring the biggest DJs and acts in contemporary dance music (Fatboy Slim, The Chemical Brothers, Armand Van Helden and Underworld), Human Traffic is poised to re-open the debate (much of it misinformed) about the extent and frequency of drug use among today's youth and the not-so-youthful.

Virtually plotless and shot like an extended music video, it's not the film itself that is getting the headlines but its self-styled "honest" portrayal of a chemical generation. If the depiction of so many people whacked out of it on E is a tad overly-dramatic, it's merely because the film overcompensates in redressing the balance of how drug use is usually portrayed in film. "We're not saying everyone is doing E all the time", says actor Shaun Parkes (who plays the Koop character in the film), "but this is something that is happening all over the world. Even if you haven't tried Ecstasy, you're surrounded by it. It's in the clubs - people getting off their nut beside you - it's in magazines and on TV.

"I think people will want to see the film because it's a representation of a way of life for a section of young people. No one wants to say they've had anything to do with E, but this film brings it to life. It tells you what your son and daughter are doing every weekend. Whether you like it or not."

Apart from hammering home the rather obvious contrast between a mundane job and being all loved up in a club, the bulk of the film is given over to standard youth fare as we watch the five friends meticulously plan out their weekend night. Clothes have to be tried on, discarded, then tried on again; tickets for the club have to be arranged, guest lists must be negotiated and chemicals must be obtained. It's all very fast and furious in a low-budget sort of way but there's plenty of knowing references to older people's representations of club life, cynical swipes at government drugs policy and a nod and a wink to its rougher predecessor, Trainspotting.

For people who've come in late on club culture, it's enough to know that it grew up in tandem with the explosion of House Music in the late 1980s. Alcohol was shunned as the drug of choice (probably because the kids had seen what it had done to the previous generation) and instead a simple MDMA compound known as Ecstasy (after the feeling it purportedly produces) took over youth culture. Users report being "loved up" - feeling a sense of communal well-being and happiness (before the post-drug comedown) - and have an inclination to dance all night. The music is vital and at its core is the DJ (the new musical icon) who keeps the crowd in bangin' beats. The major difference between alcohol and E is that with the latter you don't get people beating each other up after a night out - they're more prone to hugging each other in their own loved-up way.

Despite tabloid hysteria, club culture is not awash with E. A lot of people go to the clubs for the music and don't take anything heavier than a bottle of mineral water. In fact, the majority of clubs have a strict "no drugs" policy, though this doesn't apply to alcohol.

"I think club culture is the most dominant youth culture there's ever been," says writer and director Justin Kerrigan. "It's bigger than the rockers, the hippies, the mods. And it's not subject to a class system. I've been out in clubs with lawyers, doctors, dentists and policemen. There are no parameters: people of all different ages and backgrounds can come together and socialise in a way that was unthinkable even a few years ago. On the drugs issue, and as is said in the film, in the past 10 years there have been 60 deaths from Ecstasy in Britain, while in the same period there were a million alcohol-related deaths. Now tell me which is the greatest threat?"

The alcohol-versus-E debate is teased out to some extent in the film but not enough. It's a cold, statistical fact (accepted by the authorities and scientists working in the field) that you've more chance of dying from being struck by lightening than from taking Ecstasy (in terms of tabs taken over the population). That, though, doesn't help and won't begin to help until Ecstasy is given the same attention as alcohol by official bodies - including pinpointing the warning signs and letting people know how to deal with problems arising from its use.

The characters in Human Traffic may be from Cardiff, but they behave the same way as people from Manchester, Dublin, Glasgow and Cork. According to the Gardai and drug-awareness bodies in Ireland, another 10,000 Ecstasy tablets will be taken in Dublin alone this weekend. Going to see Human Traffic will not make anybody take any more or less of the drug, but it might make some more aware of a situation that demands urgent attention. Inform yourselves.

Human Traffic goes on release in the Republic on June 18th

Brian Boyd

Brian Boyd

Brian Boyd, a contributor to The Irish Times, writes mainly about music and entertainment