Human Traffic Page #5

Synopsis: The Cardiff club scene in the 90's: five best friends deal with their relationships and their personal demons during a weekend. Jip calls himself a sexual paranoid, afraid he's impotent. Lulu, Jip's mate, doesn't find much to fancy in men. Nina hates her job at a fast food joint, and her man, Koop, who dreams of being a great hip-hop d.j., is prone to fits of un-provoked jealousy. The fifth is Moff, whose family is down on his behavior. Starting Friday afternoon, with preparations for clubbing, we follow the five from Ecstacy-induced fun through a booze-laden come-down early Saturday morning followed by the weekend's aftermath. It's breakthrough time for at least three of them.
Genre: Comedy, Music
Director(s): Justin Kerrigan
Production: Miramax Films
  9 wins & 7 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.1
Metacritic:
53
Rotten Tomatoes:
59%
R
Year:
1999
99 min
3,753 Views


We believe that ecstasy

causes serotonin depletion...

and may lead to depression

in later life.

[ Jip ] Yeah, all right, Doc. Yeah.

Fair enough. But on the flip side, Lee,

you'll feel an overwhelming

sense of empathy with people.

You'll be able to be intimate

with your friends,

talk about things that you never

felt comfortable enough to say before.

Overheating

when dancing on ecstasy...

increases heart rate

and palpitations...

and can cause heatstroke,

resulting in death.

Statistically,

you're more likely to die...

from choking on a cabbage leaf

or an argument in a pub...

than you are

from dropping an "E."

Alcohol kills 30,000 people

a year alone in Britain.

But that's all right because

that's a good taxable drug,

nonetheless, isn't it?

Your penis will shrivel up, and

you won't be able to get an erection.

[ Bell Tolling ]

Anyone, who repeatedly takes ecstasy,

is punching the wall between consciousness and unconsciousness.

In later life,

instead of reaching for the lasers,

you could be reaching for the prescriptions.

- Yeah.

- Anyway, it's good

seeing you again, man.

- Yeah, yeah. Take care.

- See you in the club later on, yeah?

- Yeah, yeah, okay.

- Nice one, nice one. See ya.

- Cheers. Cheers.

See ya. See ya.

F***ing hell, man.

If we'd have been

more honest with each other,

that conversation would have

gone a bit more like this.

- F***ing shame we had

eye contact when I walked in.

- Yeah.

Yeah, I know. Every time

we bump into each other,

we kinda fall into

this groove of pretending

that we like each other.

I don't dislike anything

about you, but I just don't

like anything about you, either.

Yeah. Together we kinda surf the waves

of social paranoia, don't we?

No uncomfortable silences

as yet.

Yeah, well, not as yet,

but, you know, our luck's

not gonna last forever, is it?

Maybe it's time

for your Houdini impression.

What do you reckon?

Yeah, all right, man.

Uh, I'm gonna get

a drink from the bar.

- Yeah, and you're with friends.

- And I'll see you later.

- That's the one.

- Let's pretend we didn't

see each other next time, yeah?

- Absolutely crucifying

as always, mate.

- Yeah, whatever.

- Uh, look forward to seeing you.

- Yeah, like an illness.

- Don't get run over. Die.

- Okay. Die.

- Wanker!

- Wanker!

Friday night

after the club, yeah?

I got a hard-on,

so I ring one of them porn lines.

Hello?

Yeah. My name's... Bob.

I'm from, uh--

from West-- West London area.

What color drawers you got on?

I'm buzzing my tits off,

yeah? I'm f***ed.

I end up going off on these,

on these tangents...

about me life and me aspirations

and sh*t like that, you know?

It's like,

what are you doing?

Yeah, I'm a,

a b-business interpret-- Um--

Ul-Ultra-- I'm an ultrapren--

"Ultrapreneur."

Have you got brown nipples

or just like--

What? You wear all-- What,

you wear all black nail polish

and that, do ya? F***.

Next thing I know,

the old man's hitting me with,

"Who the hell you been

ringing in Taiwan, boy?"

- Who the hell

you been calling in Taiwan?

- Taiwan?

- That's what he said.

- F***ing hell.

Listen, 145 f***ing quid.

- F***ing hell!

- I'm f***ing telling you, man.

145 quid.

- Believe it.

- F***ing hell, Moff.

F***! [ Laughing ]

Fair play, mate, fair play.

That is the most expensive

wank I've ever heard of.

- F***'s sake, keep it down will ya?

- Sorry, sorry.

- Sorry.

- F***ing hell. Listen, listen, right.

What really took the piss was

she was more Cockney than me.

Now can you f***ing believe that, Jip?

Do you know what I mean?

Listen, now the old c*nt's

giving it--

Yeah, I know you're sorry.

Yeah, you will be sorry...

'cause if in seven days you

don't pay it off, I'm gonna

chuck you out, all right?

That's nice, Dad.

That is so nice.

You lie in bed all f***ing day.

You haven't had a job for over a year.

You don't have a girlfriend.

You're throwing your life away, boy!

And chucking me out

on the street, that's just what

I need at the moment, isn't it?

Don't give me that bollocks

about you're gonna throw me out

'cause it ain't even your house.

Ain't even my house?

Well, it won't be your house

in a f***ing week.

- No?

- You're 20 years of age,

for f***'s sake.

You really don't understand

at all, do you, eh?

I haven't got one friend

that actually enjoys their job.

Each one counts down

the days till Friday.

Dad, I'm not ready

to become that miserable.

- Matthew!

- Life's hard enough, for f***'s sake.

- I'm still researching.

- Everyone's gotta work, Matthew.

Don't you understand?

I'm unemployed full time.

- I ain't got enough hours

in the f***ing day.

- "Hours in the f***ing day?"

You ain't even here in the f***ing day.

And take this with you and all,

you f***ing little--

- Yeah? Bollocks!

I mean, how many times have I told you?

Get your own f***ing flat.

Get your own flat.

You need your own flat, man. Seriously.

It's a piece of piss.

You can get it on the Social.

Where am I gonna go,

for f***'s sake?

F***. I don't know.

What the f*** do you care?

As long as it's got a f***ing phone

line, it's all right, isn't it?

F*** off, you c*nt.

[ Jip Narrating ] I can't f***ing relax.

Glad to see I'm not alone.

I really want to lose my inhibitions.

You know, be able to talk to strangers.

Break the ice.

But I can't be arsed either.

I don't need this stress

on my night off.

Britain, chill the f*** out

and then show me how to do it.

I think it's time

for a new national anthem.

You know?

One I can relate to.

[ Jip Narrating ]

Yeah, well, maybe not.

[ Music playing ]

[ Jip ] No, no, Moff, Moff. This is not

funny, man. Don't f*** about.

Look, I-- Look, I just don't understand.

I-I had it in here. I had it in here.

Have you left it

in the pub?

No, I didn't take me wallet out once.

I was paying with shrapnel in there.

That's why--

All right. Well, maybe

there are tickets on the door.

No way. No way.

Not tonight.

- F***. - I'm so sorry, Lu. I'm sorry.

- Look. Forget about it, it was a bad card.

I just wasn't meant to have it.

F***in' anticlimax.

This is not gonna happen, man.

No way is this gonna happen.

Okay, what's the-- What's the owner

of this club called?

- Peter.

- No, it's not Peter.

It's a Spanish name. Pablo.

Pablo Hassan.

No way, mate.

- Pablo Hassan.

- No, mate. Don't even think about it.

- No, sweetheart. You can't.

- No, seriously, right?

Ten minutes. If I'm not

back here in ten minutes,

I'll see you in there, right?

- Ten minutes, it's all right.

- Jip.

- Excuse me, mate.

- What?

I'm from Mix mag.

Got an appointment with Mr. Hassan.

- Jip, sweetheart, no.

It's not worth it.

- Go on, my son. Go on, my son.

- I'm a bit late, mate.

Do you know what I mean?

- Whoa.

- Oh, no. It's not worth it, man.

- Have a bit of faith.

I've got an appointment with your boss.

Can I go in, please?

- Pablo Hassan.

- Listen to me. This geezer's

never let me down yet.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote

Justin Kerrigan

Justin Kerrigan (born 1974) is a Welsh writer and film director, best known for the 1999 film Human Traffic. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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