Traffic
dir. Steven Soderbergh
USA Films

It’s odd to think that barely three years ago, director Steven Soderbergh was considered an eccentric whose best career days were behind him. Always his own man, Soderbergh had followed sex, lies, and videotape, his acclaimed debut film, with obscure choices like a Kafka biopic and Schizopolis, an experimental film starring himself.

But then along came Out of Sight, one of the greatest films of the 1990s. Although it was not a stunning box office success, Out of Sight established Soderbergh as a masterful director and provided a critical breakthrough for Jennifer Lopez and George Clooney.

People took notice and, suddenly, Soderbergh’s profile began to rise. He followed it with The Limey, a stylish revenge film starring swinging ’60s icon Terrence Stamp and a toothy Peter Fonda, and Erin Brockovich, the film that really pushed Soderbergh into the mainstream and gave Julia Roberts the role of her lifetime.

In Brockovich, Soderbergh embraced the clichés inherent to the film and, by so doing, rose above them. In Traffic, however, he employs the clichés by subverting them, taking several contradictory conventions and using them as a commentary on the futility of the United States’ troubled War on Drugs. On this level alone, Traffic would be an interesting movie. But it’s made into a compelling, exciting film by the fantastic, massive cast and wonderful cinematography by Soderbergh himself.

Shot in grainy orange and blue hues, often with handheld cameras, Traffic transports the story of “Traffik,” a 1989 British miniseries on the Pakistani drug trade, to North America, examining similar problems in the United States and Mexico. Traffic follows this struggle from top governmental levels to those fighting it out on the streets of California and Tijuana.

The clichés and conventions come out fairly quickly: A goodhearted Mexican cop (Benicio del Toro, who has never been better) tries to do the right thing and finds himself surrounded by corruption; the newly appointed conservative drug czar (Michael Douglas) discovers that a boyfriend (Topher Grace) has helped addict his brainy prep-school daughter (amazing newcomer Erika Christensen) to freebasing cocaine; two noble DEA agents (Soderbergh regulars Luis Guzman and Don Cheadle) fight the good fight as they surveil a confused society wife who quickly learns the ruthless tactics used by her indicted drug-smuggling husband (Catherine Zeta-Jones) as well as protect a low-level drug dealer (Miguel Ferrer) who knows their actions are only helping a rival cartel.

As all these conventions play out against each other, the utter hopelessness of winning the drug war is shown through the microcosmic worlds of the characters. Yet Soderbergh’s end point is not that all involved parties should give up — there a sense of hope in the characters by the end that, somehow, a better way will be found to combat the dangerous drug trade.

One of Traffic’s greatest strengths, in fact, is its objectivity. This is not a pro-legalization movie and it certainly does support the two governments’ attempts to clean up their respective streets.

Its other great strength is the depth and range of its supporting cast. Although del Toro (deservedly) and Zeta-Jones (undeservedly) are getting the most attention, the entire cast turns in top-notch performances. Douglas shines as a desperate family man who must appear tough in public, Ferrer’s trademark freneticism is spot-on and Grace invests his small but important role with the right mix of naïveté and knowledge.

Soderbergh has repeatedly established himself as a director who is always worth watching, someone who is capable of telling a great story and making it look incredible. But with Traffic, he moves beyond high-quality storytelling to making a compelling film that leaves a deeper mark on its audience.

— Stephanie Kuenn (smkuenn at gmail dot com)