The Morning After

When his hangover fades on the morning after, the drunken driver of the night before may turn defensively argumentative. The cops, he usually claims, exaggerated his alcoholic difficulties. If he was lucky enough to escape a serious accident, and cautious enough not to submit his telltale breath to a drunk-ometer's measurement, he can often make his story stick.

Not in Denver, though, or in many another U.S. city where police are practicing a new and legal gimmick for encouraging confessions. The standard sobriety tests—picking up poker chips from the floor, walking a painted line, touching the nose while the eyes are closed—are all recorded by a movie camera and a sound track. When the case comes to trial, the film is produced as the prosecution's most persuasive evidence.

Persuasive it is. These days only about one out of every 20 Denverites charged with drunken driving is acquitted. The films not only keep tanked-up drivers from escaping punishment, but also drastically reduce the number who demand a jury trial. Before a case comes into court, the accused is shown a screening of his on-camera performance. Nine times out of ten, the sight of himself wobbling through the tests is enough to convince the driver that he ought to plead guilty.