MOVING 'TRAFFIC'

Soderbergh's Riveting Thriller Lays Open America's Anti-Drug Campaign

TRAFFIC: Thriller. Starring Michael Douglas, Benicio Del Toro, Don
Cheadle, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Erika Christensen. Directed by
Steven Soderbergh. Written by Stephen Gaghan. (Rated R. 147 minutes.
In English and in Spanish with English subtitles.)
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Starting three years ago with "Out of Sight" and continuing with "The
Limey" and "Erin Brockovich," Steven Soderbergh has been riding a
remarkable winning streak that fulfills, albeit belatedly, the blazing
promise of his first film, "sex, lies, and videotape."

With "Traffic," his most ambitious and complex film to date, Soderbergh
again proves himself one of our most inventive filmmakers. Soderbergh
doesn't play it safe: With each project he erects a new set of dramatic and
logistic challenges; instead of being intimidated by those challenges, he's
galvanized by them, inspired to greater and more exciting work.

A multi-paneled thriller about the U.S. drug wars, "Traffic" is explosive
entertainment, with the tension and volatility of its subject matter. Three
stories unfold simultaneously, complement one another and eventually overlap:

In one, a conservative Ohio Supreme Court judge (Michael Douglas) is
appointed federal drug czar and discovers that his teenage daughter (the
remarkable Erika Christensen) is a junkie in rapid decline. In the second,
a pair of Mexican cops working the border (Benicio Del Toro and Jacob
Vargas) run a gantlet of betrayals with the Tijuana drug cartels. The
third, set in the wealthy San Diego suburb of La Jolla, follows a pregnant
trophy wife, played with gusto and defiance by Catherine Zeta-Jones, as she
wages a dirty battle to avenge the arrest of her drug-baron husband (Steven
Bauer).

Soderbergh gives each of the tales its own look and energy, and creates an
eerie, desolate quality in the Mexican border sequences by desaturating the
colors and giving the film a yellowish tint. The result is a world that's
geographically close but psychologically alien -- a place where nothing
happens as expected and alliances are easily blurred and shifted.

GROUNDING IN FACT

"Traffic" was written by Stephen Gaghan ("Rules of Engagement"), a former
journalist whose research took him to police chiefs, the Drug Enforcement
Administration and the Office of National Drug Control Policy. His
groundwork pays off in the elaborate detailing of the script and in the
lean, authentic dialogue: Whether we're listening to cops or dealers,
Washington pols or upper-class kids freebasing cocaine after school,
Gaghan's words ring true.

One of the best scenes in the film, in fact, has Christensen and her
prep-school buddies getting loaded one night while her parents are away
from their elegant suburban home. High on a cocktail of privilege and
cocaine, the kids bray and pontificate, decrying the phoniness of social
intercourse. Gaghan hits it right on the head: that twerpy self-importance,
the sense that drugs unmask all charades and give the user an insight that
no one else shares.

Fast-paced and urgent, "Traffic" plunges us into a world that's hurtling
forward regardless of us. Soderbergh shot the film himself with a camera on
his shoulder, and the immediacy and mobility of his method have given the
film a raw, documentary flavor -- as well as eliciting some great performances.

This is a huge cast by any standard, and there isn't a weak performance in
the lot. Del Toro, winner of the New York Film Critics'
best-supporting-actor prize, has a sense of tragic inevitability as Javier.
Stripped of illusions and numb to corruption, he carries his bulky frame in
a languid, John Wayne strut -- and never seems surprised by the escalating
levels of deception.

Zeta-Jones is another standout as a privileged wife turned mama lion. When
her husband is thrown in prison and she's left with the residue of his life
-- she has to come up with $3 million -- she crosses the border and confronts a lowlife Tijuana dealer
(Benjamin Bratt). Zeta-Jones is sensational in that scene through sheer
conviction: She electrifies a moment that could have been absurd.

EVERY PARENT'S NIGHTMARE

Most memorable is Christensen as Douglas' hell-bound daughter. After she's
hit bottom and is turning tricks in a fleabag hotel, Christensen looks like
a fallen angel. When she blisses out on drugs and get a woozy, ethereal
look in her eyes, she's every parent's nightmare come vividly to life.

Those scenes, in a sense, are the heart of "Traffic" -- a cautionary signal
that the drug wars are not only far from over but also woefully
misdirected. Soderbergh makes the point, without preaching, that drugs are
in fact a symptom of larger problems, the result of a society that
separates and isolates people.

Advisory: This movie contains raw language, violence and sexual situations.