In another, when a doctor warns that ecstasy use can cause depression, sexual dysfunction and heatstroke, Jip argues: “Statistically you're more likely to die from choking on a cabbage leaf or an argument in the pub than you are from dropping an E. Alcohol kills 30,000 people a year alone in Britain. But that's alright because it's a good taxable drug nonetheless.” At the end of the night, he and best friend Koop talk philosophy over lines of cocaine. Despite all of the drugs he's taken, no one worries about Jip driving everyone home at sunrise.
Groove was equally unconcerned about driving under the influence, and equally happy to promote ecstasy use. “Pop and beer, they fuck you up,” Cliff, full-time teacher’s assistant and part-time drug dealer, advises. “This enhances you. It heightens your awareness, especially touch. The feeling of connection, openness, honesty. It's like being a kid...”
Mostly though, Groove focused on the sheer effort and organizational clout it took to throw unlicensed parties back then, as well as emphasizing how worthwhile it all was. The film follows several groups of dance enthusiasts who battle power cuts, unreliable DJs, bad directions, sticker-wielding candy ravers and a cop (played by a pre-fame Nick Offerman) in order to have their party—but party they do, against all odds. (Talk about a mid-pandemic fantasy!)
Success is hard won in Go too—a movie that uses a Christmas rave in L.A. as the backdrop for intertwining tales about three broke teenagers, their obnoxious British co-worker, two gay soap opera actors and a gun-toting ecstasy dealer. The Mary X-Mas dance party is a laser-blasted, blacklit spectacular full of glowsticks, bucket hats, mini backpacks and the kinds of space bun hairdos that disappeared with the last century.
In the end, Human Traffic, Groove and Go all captured lightning in a bottle. Partly because of good timing, partly because they were all made by people who understood the culture they were documenting.