Seduction Of The Innocent (1961)

[Music] This is America in the second half of the 20th century. And Janette is a slave. Not a slave by circumstance of birth or force, but by choice. A choice she made herself. not so very long ago. A choice that at the time probably seemed no bigger than should I belong or shouldn't I. The pace of modern teenage society is often fast. The beat is sometimes frantic. Cultures and backgrounds have been mixed. The need to belong is everpresent. Associations are quickly and easily made. Boy meets girl. A seemingly innocent relationship is born. We're all looking for new thrills, new experiences. It's part of life. Unfortunately, it often takes experience and maturity to arrive at wise decisions. A friendly, outstretched hand, an engaging smile and offer. It is second or more commonly referred to as a red. But to the group, it's a means to an end. What can be the harm? After all, the 20th century is run on pills. A pill for extra vitamins, a pill to go to sleep, a pill to wake up. Why not a pill to make you feel good? But that small red capsule is a dangerous drug to be administered by a competent physician, not by a newly found boyfriend. But the pressure of the group, the need to belong, the desire to try something new is too great a temptation. But the effect isn't long and lasting. And when the drug wears off, and the coming down, as it's called, takes place, you feel let down and tired. but more persuasion, a greater need to belong. And it isn't long until you try again and again. You try new things. The hypnotics, as they're called, schanol or reds, nebutl or yellows, tuinol and phenibarbatl, and the stimulants of fetamine, dexadrine, and benzadrine or bennies. You begin to lose track of your friends because now you belong to a group. A group that must move in a veiled world of secrecy because what you are doing is against the law. the constant fear of apprehension. [Music] Now you meet like conspirators because the passing of pills is dangerous and must of necessity be secretive. Nerves begin to wear thin. The fun of everyday living goes and you begin to wonder what your friends and parents think. The guilt grows and as it does, the need for something that will bring more relief. dispel the fears that you yourself have created. You become more dependent on one another, but your pleasure in each other's company becomes less satisfying, and you depend more and more on the pills to help. Finally, the pills are not enough, and you're ready for the second act of your threeact tragedy. [Music] You've heard Mike and the group talk of toking up a joint. You know it means smoking marijuana. Mike is more experienced than you in the ways of narcotics. But until now, he has never suggested that you tooke up together. But the pills don't give either of you the desired effect any longer. And in the insecurity of your relationship, you feel a need to find some new experience to bind you together. So a suggestion that only a short month ago would have been repulsive now is considered. The smell and the taste are anything but pleasing. It makes you cough and your throat becomes dry and hot. You feel like you're floating. You concentrate on one object, a tree in the distance. It's called fixing. As you concentrate, time slows down. You hallucinate. That is you dream. This is called tripping. Your depth perception is affected. If you had to step off a curb or get out of a car, you would probably need help because the distance might be exaggerated. On the other hand, distance might seem to diminish. As with alcohol, the problems don't disappear. They only temporarily seem to vanish and return with jarring force when the effects of the drugs wear off. But when you get on narcotics, it's like starting a neverending downward tail spin from 30,000 ft. You become less sure of yourself, your surroundings, your friends. Quarrels are more frequent with your parents and loved ones. You try to convince yourself you're right, but deep inside you know you're not. You lose your sense of values. You think of little else but another blowup. Your newfound language for smoking marijuana. You've completed the second act. And the third act curtain is just about to go up. You don't know it now, but when it does, it's the beginning of the end. The point of no return. It can start in many ways. At a party, in the secrecy of a dirty room. That's how your third act began. At the top of a crummy staircase on the second floor of a sleazy apartment building. Now, a new character enters your tragedy. His name is Eric. You and Mike had gone to his place to pick up your weak supply of pills. You didn't like Eric, but Mike had insisted. He'd welded you to his code of secrecy and forced you to help push the pills so you wouldn't cop out on him. A user learns to trust no one, not even his best girl. You sat toking up. It didn't give you the kick it used to. Eric, like all addicts, knew this. Oh yes, he smoked with you, but only to be sociable until a time came when he could introduce you and Mike to heroin. A year ago, you would have been revulsed at the thought of heroin. But now, it's an easy step from marijuana to heroin. A pill, a cigarette, a hypodermic needle. [Music] Even now you're afraid. What will it be like? First you'll get a burn. and that is a feeling of warmth will slip over you and then you'll become nauseated and get desperately sick. Finally, the wretching will subside and you'll have a sustained feeling of sensual excitement which will lapse into a state of euphoria or well-being. But it won't last. And when you come down, you'll be in the depth of depression, consumed by a cancer of guilt. [Music] For just one second, your conscience pricks as you see the needle inserted in the death dealing liquid slipping in and mixing with Michael's blood. For a moment, you want to say no. But the will to resist is gone. Temptation is ever present. The desire to try something new, something more powerful is too great. Heroin being one of the most insidious drugs known to man, it only seems like days until you're hooked. You're not turned on any longer. The free ride is over. You're required to pay for your fix. As your tolerance increases, the need for more drugs increases, and this requires more and more cash. Now you're driven to things you would never have considered here to for by your insatiable need for the drug. Your moral fiber has collapsed and no crime is beyond your imagination. You are an addict and your total effort in life is to obtain money to feed your habit. Now you're launched on a fullscale teenage crime wave of your very own. But with each passing day, your tolerance increases. And now a fix only helps to make you appear normal and dispel the symptoms of withdrawal. Withdrawal. The nightmare of the attic. You live in constant fear of not having enough heroin to keep your habit supplied. For when that supply runs low and the first symptoms begin, the yawn, the sneeze, the runny nose, and you can't get another fix, you know you're about to begin a living hell. First you're burning up, then you're freezing, then the cramps and pains begin. Each nerve is laid bare, and all your senses are magnified. Your whole being is like one giant nerve, raw and exposed to every outside stimulus. This period of withdrawal can go on for a week before the pain subsides and your senses come back to something approaching normal. And for this you steal and live a life of degradation and crime. But in your thirst for money, you become careless and Mike is caught. Now you're on your own and you must support your habit in the best way you can. You live in a jungle of fear. You're forced to deal with Eric alone. Mike is no longer there to help. Eric only laughs at your need and tells you to get money. Money, money, and more money. You're not prepared to take a job. Besides, no job would pay the kind of money you now need. You've got yourself a $50 a day habit. You can't support that slinging hash. So, you turn to the only thing you can that will bring your kind of money. You become a call girl. You support that $50 a day habit, but not for long because your looks begin to disintegrate. Your clients will no longer pay your price. You go from callgirl to street walker. Then on your 20th birthday, you'll picked up for soliciting. Janette Michaels, age 20, white Caucasian drug addict, a 20th century slave self-style. She'll suffer through withdrawal, be sentenced for prostitution, released and returned to the habit again. Lost to society, she'll continue her hopeless, degrading existence until she escapes in death. Today, tomorrow, maybe not for years. [Music]