Ordinarily, ‘breaking the 4th wall’ is a pretty tired convention - but here, it becomes an integral part of the film - since the entire thing is essentially plotless, it has to be driven by the characters and so through a combination of flashback montages narrated by Jip, comments directly to the audience, and clever cinematic tricks, writer/director Justin Kerrigan manages to make people care enough about the characters to forgive the fact that the plot seems to have escaped off the lot during filming.Īll the characters, like everyone I know really, are bags of insecurities. Jip introduces us to the characters, situations, and ideas of the film by regularly addressing the audience directly. The film’s narrated by Jip, a twenty-something boy who hates his job and lives for the weekend. In the sandwiches case, it’s the bread in this film’s case, it’s the characters. But it’s not a complete anything it’s like a sandwich with grape jelly, lime pickle, whipped cream and chocolate chips a blend of things that don’t really mesh, but are held together by one thing. As a film, I don’t really know what to call it it’s part documentary, but not shot in the documentary style part commentary on drug culture, social values, and the alienation of the younger generation it’s part love story, part family tragedy, part character study. The trouble with Human Traffic is that it has less plot than 30 seconds of Sunset Beach. If you read my reviews a lot you’ll know that it’s around about paragraph five that I actually bother to get round to giving you an idea of the plot rather than burbling on about myself. Regardless of my long forgotten reasons, I watched it, and was amazed by it for several reasons, some good, some bad. Maybe it was the hype, or maybe I just wanted an outsiders perspective on it. Nothing about it really appealed to me on the surface it wasn’t about me. Why I watched this film really still eludes me. That is, if Mecca sold bottled beer at 300% overcharge and had bass so loud you could stand still and use the vibration of the floor to propel you around.Īll this long winded and wordy garbage is my way of telling you that Human Traffic is a film about club culture in fact, many of the people that I know who are into the club scene consider this film their manifesto the expression of all the reasons they love their weekends. Of course, my personal preference only for music with 3 guitars and heavily tattooed men shouting so loud your ears bleed probably has a lot to do with it but I’ve just never really ‘got’ the club scene - but I have known several people for whom their weekend club trips were their equivalent of pilgrimages to Mecca. However, the biggest scene that I was never a part of has to be the ‘Club Scene’. All these subcultures are mysteries to me.
Those people who stick 80 foot spoilers and 30 foglights on the front of their 1987 Ford Capri. The whole Heath & Fitness/Gym culture passed me by. Line Dancing, for example - I can quite happily say that I have never dressed up in a tasselled denim jacket and cowboy boots and danced to country & western music. However, since it’s impossible to do everything there were several ‘scenes’ I only ever saw from the outside in. I can look back at my twenties without feeling like I wasted my youth (even though I probably did). I’ve never been one for sitting at home and thinking about doing them instead, I’ve often gone out and done them, with disastrous results - but at least I did them in the first place. Rich’s review: Now, as I’m one of the many twenty-seven year old ball of collected neuroses occasionally known as human beings, I like to consider myself ‘worldy’ to some degree.
Rich’s rating: This is going to be an impossible sell.
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