Starring Michael Douglas, Benicio Del Toro and Catherine Zeta-Jones
Director Steven Soderbergh’s “Traffic” (USA Films, R) details the convoluted and depressing business that routes drugs, specifically cocaine, from Mexican drug lords to preppy, bored teen-agers. The magnificent, engrossing tale combines great acting with a telltale visual style as we weave in and out of lives directly affected by the drug trade. All that without one mention of 4:20, a small feat for a tremendous movie looking for answers like everyone else.
The epic topic allows Soderbergh to err on the side of excess, but he rarely does. A huge cast, some characters not even sharing the screen with one another, keeps the focus personal even as the monkeys on backs grow larger. The buzz on this film is well-deserved, as the toughest thing coming out of “Traffic” is who excelled the most.
Three main plots dominate the storytelling. Robert Wakefield (Michael Douglas, using a variation of his “American President” character) is the new U.S. “drug czar.” His character allows us to see the multitude of opinions that arise from a mention of that dirty four-letter word in the realm of politics. A trek across the continent introduces Javier Rodriguez (Benicio Del Toro), an honest cop from Mexico asked to guard the border from illegal drug trafficking. Those drugs help keep the Tijuana drug trade alive, led by the Ayala family and watched obsessively by U.S. federal agents Montel Gordon and Luis Guzman (Don Cheadle and Ray Castro).
In all, there are many characters with many complications. Wakefield’s daughter, Caroline (Erika Christensen) develops into a 16-year-old coke fiend, adding immediacy to the drug czar’s job description. And the rival drug cartels in Mexico use the United States as a pawn to further their own goals full of corruption. The corruption even stems to the seemingly innocent Helena Ayala (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a wife asked to take over the family business while her husband stands trial.
The multitude of characters and plots are sequential but seldom connect, relying on the viewer to fill in thematic links prepared by Soderbergh. The two-and-a-half hours of viewing time help the film develop at its own pace, but “Traffic” doesn’t feel long. In fact, the main flaw of the movie is an overly pat ending, which somewhat goes against the overall themes of massive problems with few good answers.
But that is a problem the rest of the movie overshadows. The story offers few partisan politics, even though Sen. Orrin Hatch of Utah makes a brief cameo to please the C-SPAN crowd. Rather, buzzwords fall by the wayside as the human element takes over. Cheadle and Guzman are great as comic relief, but the anguish on Cheadle’s face as drug lords heckle him about his impactless job is the true addition to the story.
The moods are set by Soderbergh’s unique use of color and motion. Mexico is overexposed and sunburned in a bright, tan hue like the “Three Kings” desert scenes. Meanwhile, Caroline’s descent into addiction is a sad blue. Those colors are heightened by frenetic cinematography that jiggles, jumps and shifts, promoting confusion at crucial times, like an assassination attempt, while continuing to look over moral shoulders.
The overwhelming helplessness, barely offset by moral victories, promotes the “edge” that beckons such substance abuse. What irony. What a great movie.
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