When I was in junior high school, our class was given an assignment I'll never forget. We were provided with information regarding the then-current problems in South Africa, and we subsequently had to come up with our own possible solutions. At every turn, at every suggestion, at every proposal, there was a barrier that would come up. For every would-be answer, the teacher highlighted another cause-and-effect response. It was both enlightening and frustrating for me all at once. After having lived in the vacuum-like world of elementary school, in grade seven I had come to realize that there are some global issues that can't be easily resolved.
Traffic, Steven Soderbergh's finest work yet, expertly shows that the North American drug trade problem has no quick-fix solutions. It simply exists; it simply is. For example, it takes more than a government initiative to stop the invasion of drugs into the U.S. from Mexico. It takes more than a few undercover cops to stop 100,000 white kids from purchasing drugs in predominantly non-white neighborhoods. It takes more than spouting simple rhetoric to incite change. And for every action, there is an equal and corresponding reaction.
In a non-linear way, Traffic shows the journey a drug can take from the time it's cultivated on land to its final destination (the user) and all the stop-over points in between. The ebb and flow of the narcotics underworld can often be a business, a rampant addiction, an entrapping situation, a political leverage tool, and an extremely dangerous environment all at once.
The movie offers consistent, high-caliber performances where no actor overshadows another. Michael Douglas plays a judge appointed to be the new drug czar, Catherine Zeta-Jones is the wife of a powerful drug lord who has been arrested, Don Cheadle and Luis Guzmán play agents on trafficking detail, and Benicio del Toro is a Mexican cop who finds himself playing both sides of the border. All are realistically portrayed and finely tuned to their parts.
Director Steven Soderbergh steadily builds dramatic tension as the story progresses. Events unfold much as they would in a Robert Altman or a Paul Thomas Anderson film. The story is at its most suspenseful when Zeta-Jones, desparate for money, makes a pitch to the head of a drug cartel (Benjamin Bratt) to smuggle his coke into the country using toy dolls; when Douglas must search the city streets for his own crack-addicted daughter (Erika Christensen); or when law-enforcing teams of two (Cheadle and Guzmán; del Toro and Jacob Vargas) are tragically brought down to teams of one.
The film is relatively anti-drug, but no dogma is actually injected into Stephen Gaghan's screenplay. Soderbergh's directorial decision to use yellow filters in the scenes set in Mexico and blue filters for the D.C./Ohio scenes are effective narrative devices rather than anything artistic or thematic. I particularly liked the final few minutes, where three scenes stood out: Douglas's disembodied speech from the White House podium after having lived through the family traumas of drug addiction firsthand, his daughter's short scene at a rehab centre, and del Toro's quiet moment as he watches a baseball game from the stands. These scenes exemplify that unless you've actually been in the trenches, no amount of talking or wishful thinking can make you truly see the impact drugs has on society.
Traffic doesn't dumb itself down for its audience. It's a rare treat, insightful and provocative all at once. For this film, Soderbergh earned a best director nod and del Toro won best supporting actor at this year's Academy Awards. In my opinion it should have won best picture too. It's a fantastic work.
