Traffic Directed by: Steven Soderbergh Much like Soderbergh's other release this year, Erin Brokovich, Traffic deals with cover-ups. In both films, it's hard to tell who can be trusted, and it nearly is impossible to find the missing link to close an investigation. Unlike Erin Brokovich's public safety theme, Soderbergh wrestles with a much touchier, poignant and debatable topic; the war on drugs. The film never answers the question of whether the Reagan Administration's "Just Say No" campaign did any good at all or does it try to blame one government agency or person for the unsolvable dilemma. Soderbergh pins the blame on numerous people in the film, but essentially leaves it up to the audience to decide. What a person brings into the film in terms of expectations, experiences and viewpoints will shape the person's feelings about Traffic once it has come to a head. Unlike Requiem for a Dream, Traffic is more approachable. Requiem has a design that challenges any viewer, with positive and negative results. Traffic is much more audience accessible. The stories and visuals are nothing you haven't seen on the 6 o'clock new or an after-school special. What makes the film work is the interweaving of the rankings of the drug trade. Traffic examines the lives of a drug cartel lord and the DEA and Mexican police trying to bring him down, along with all the king's men. These scenes are shot in either a dirty yellow hue or bright, almost white hue. We encounter two drug lords, one in Mexico and the other in California. Catherine Zeta-Jones, who has yet to catch on to her husbands business, plays the drug lord's wife in California. The naïve Helena doesn't find out about Carlos's (Steven Bauer) operation until the DEA busts down the door and drag him off to jail. Now she suddenly realizes what's put them on the map in their yuppie California neighborhood. On the other side of the country is the newest appointed drug czar, Robert Wakefield (Michael Douglas). Wakefield comes into his position fresh and hell bent on getting to the bottom of a no-win situation known as America's War on Drugs. All these scenes are shot in a cool blue. Wakefield questions the integrity of high-ranking officials who have given up all hopes of winning the war at home. Bringing the matter right into Wakefield's living room is the realization that his own daughter is a crack addict at the age of 16. Who would have thought, as she's ranked third in her class, and her resume is more impressive at 16 than most recent college graduates. It's of little surprise the amount of denial that Wakefield has about the situation. Both father and daughter go through deep emotional changes as the truths and facts found in all the drug brochures approved by his office becomes a reality. The Drug Czar can't come to grips with the fact his daughter is part of a drug use statistic his office is desperately trying to reduce to no avail. The Czar's office is attempting to help intercept drugs being carted through Tijuana. Local authorities Javier Rodriguez (Benicio Del Toro) and Manolo Sanchez (Jacob Vargas) are local Mexican cops waiting to make the next big bust when it suddenly comes upon them, but to soon be taken over by local military forces. This, to me, was the real story at hand. We've seen countless films, news stories and docu-dramas on the effect on drugs on individuals and families. Soderbergh doesn't break new ground in this aspect. It's rare though that a film takes seriously what affect the drug trade has on officials in countries that serve as midpoints or even starting points for drug running. The two cops are suckered into a scam by the military to help them capture certain key players in the Mexico region. Which side they are on, and which steps to take next are deadly and life threatening decisions. The film seemed most alive in the dirty tinted world of Mexico. I could have watched an entire film easily based in that locale and dealing with these characters. Tijuana is notorious for being a dirty city, and Soderbergh takes advantage of that knowledge. No one is stereotyped here though, and it is a relief to seem some real to life Hispanic characters. No one is wearing a sombrero or playing in a mariachi band in Traffic. People sitting around me would sigh at the mere sight of the yellow tint of the Mexico scenes. It was like the film was a slide show for them, waiting for the cool, blue colors or the bright sunny tint of California. A girl a few seats over made several comments such as "I hope this whole film isn't in Spanish" and "Uh, not more of these." More of what, words? Director Steven Soderbergh I'm sure had one heck of a time editing Traffic to a coherent whole. There were times when he could have taken more risks in this film though. The scenes involving the DEA agents seemed like too much fun. Traffic felt like a well-scripted action film at times, and several tragedies occur in the California scenes that didn't impact as hard they could have. Unlike the Mexico and Washington scenes, nothing much seems at stake or personal with the characters in the West Coast setting. Don Cheadle and Luis Guizman, who play the undercover DEA agents, come across as Laurel and Hardy making the big bust. Zeta-Jones pulls off her role quite well as the bitchy yet totally suffering from hubris wife of the jailed drug lord, but we never get any scenes of their marriage until the end of the film. The film is already pushing multiplex patience limit of 2 1/2 hours. Even with rapid intercutting, the film did drag at points. Soderbergh takes too much time solving minor situations. Traffic would have been much more focused of a film perhaps with certain mini-plots left on the cutting room floor. These were my thoughts leaving the film, but then I had a notion of what Soderbergh's true vision was. He wants chaos in the idea of Traffic, but he wants to appeal to an average viewer's senses. This film is an ensemble piece packed with more than a few familiar faces. It's a visionary film much in respect to the films of Robert Altman and Paul Thomas Anderson, but at times comes off too glitzy to be compared to the two directors. It's a difficult film to tackle, and as I had mentioned before each person will see this film in a different light based on his or her owns experiences or expectations. There is a scene in the film where a teenage boy overdoses on coke and his friends leave his corpse outside a hospital door. Half the audience I saw the film with found this rather amusing, but I found no humor in it. Which makes me come to the assumption that Soderbergh is taking it too easy on the audience. Probably the best film I've seen dealing with issue of drugs, Requiem for a Dream, is a cinematic treat in that it never lets you down. There's nothing to laugh about in that film. Traffic gives us too many breaks, too much space to breathe. If Soderbergh is really trying to send a message, it certainly isn't being realized judging from the amount of sighs and laughter coming from the audience. Like the war on drugs, conveying an opinion through a film has mixed results. There is a wonderful analogy at the end of the film over the credits having to do with baseball, and it should be a common enough one for anyone to connect the drug war to an image of a Mexican youth baseball game. But everyone got up to leave the second the credits appeared, and that doesn't show respect to this wonderful film. The war on drugs is about patience and the time needed to work with the problem instead of scoring all your runs in the first inning. Has America lost the war on drugs? It is my belief we have lost only patience. Society demands solutions before the remedy is even brewed. Whose in charge of what operation plays a little part compared to who can bring a better understanding and communication link to those who want to solve the problem, and those making the money off our lack of a solution. Films like Traffic and Requiem for a Dream help raise
the issues, but never solve any problems or headaches. They are not trying
to. These films only serve as means of reflection of our damaged society.
They are but small building blocks trying to reach the consciousness of
the predetermined wills of most citizens. The War on Drugs is a theatre
of pain in which we are all players. Whose side you are on determines the
almighty outcome. |
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