Human Traffic ½

Dire.

A catalogue of Friday night's pills and powder intake does not a movie make. Nor do five endlessly self-justifying bores constantly winking and nudging and screaming and sledgehammering the viewer with "THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE WHEN YOU'RE ON DRUGS! THIS IS EXACTLY HOW IT FEELS WHEN YOU ARE ON DRUGS! AM I RIGHT? AM I RIGHT?"

That it has the gall to reference TRAINSPOTTING, an immensely superior film which throws its own failings into almost comic relief, is just one of the many artistic decisions on director Justin Kerrigan's part which completely baffle me. Nothing quite so baffling though as the generally held view that it is something of a "British Cult Classic". A turgid mixture of nostalgia (the turn of the millenium setting always feels a bit anachronistic for a film centred on rave culture) and borderline propaganda. I've had comedowns that were more pleasant.