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The redemption of sweater-vest youth as irresponsibility, thus a jeremiah on "the frightful toll of the new drug menace." The uptight principal (Joseph Forte) has a tale to tell and begins with a mini-documentary on the devil weed sprouting across the nation, the Narcotics Bureau is happy to contribute to the seminar of misinformation. More dangerous than heroin or opium, "marihuana" here leads to the cardinal sin of laughing at Shakespeare, Romeo (Kenneth Craig) and Juliet (Dorothy Short) themselves are lured into the pusher's den. Heavy petting and heavy cackling fill the pleasure dome like a caffeinated sock-hop, "really swings out with a mess of jive," a single puff is all it takes. Vehicular manslaughter and promiscuous ivory-tickling follow, plus the confession of the remorseful moll (Lillian Miles) and the dissipation of the toking killer (Dave O'Brien). "Tell your children," indeed, one generation's scare-straight tract is another's fetish-object of derisive laughter. The original saeva indignatio comes from a church group and receives Louis Gasnier's square severity, the marvelously barmy elements (peeks at stockings and bra straps, a hopped-up pianist out of Chester Gould, ragged jump-cuts to state a cracked mind before the grand jury) are surely courtesy of Dwain Esper's reissue. No root beer for twentysomething high-schoolers but plenty of groundwork for Blue Velvet, an absurd haze of barren virtue and wicked paroxysms. "You may also believe that the facts have been exaggerated..." The best riposte is from Cheech and Chong, naturally. With Thelma White, Warren McCollum, and Carleton Young. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |