TraffickThis saga of the so-called "war" on drugs is a masterpiece of superb performances, intelligent writing and, above all, the sign of a director who not only knows what he wants, but also exactly how to transform his ambitious vision into a glorious reality. Unlike most multi-character pastiches, such as those made by Robert Altman or Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia, the characters in the three Traffic stories do not constantly cross paths, nor are they all brought together by one major event. Intersections are rare in traffic, and the intersections that do occur are often fleeting. Yet the stories are strongly linked by their major thematic concern: to vividly illustrate how the drug problem touches all corners of the country, all walks of life, from people living on tough urban streets to those in luxurious upper-middle-class neighborhoods. Soderbergh and writer Stephen Gaghan, working on the 1980s British miniseries Traffik, steadfastly refuse to force easy, comforting conclusions out of difficult, complex situations; as in real life, everyone can decide for themselves who or what is right and what it all means. While Traffic is essentially about the war on drugs in America, the film's starting point is almost exclusively the south-of-the-border (and almost entirely Spanish-language) story of Javier Rodriguez (Benicio Del Toro, who purges his annoying tics and offers a professional performance), an average cop from the state of Tijuana who is given the opportunity for greater prestige by working for General Salazar's (Tomas Milian) efforts against the drug cartels. Just north of the border, in San Diego, is the setting of another strand, in which European émigré Helena Ayala (Catherine Zeta-Jones, whose real-life plight adds a deeper layer to her role) , heavily pregnant, learns that the pampered lifestyle provided by her husband Carlos (Steven Bauer) comes from the world of drugs, not legitimate business ventures. The film also moves a little northwest, to Cincinnati, the third central location, where Caroline (Erika Christensen), the teenage daughter of America's newly appointed drug czar Robert Wakefield (Michael Douglas), brings the enemy of his father much closer to home than he could. never imagined. Soderbergh effortlessly weaves individual threads into a tapestry that is both cohesive and characterized by its contrasting colors. The latter can be taken in a literal sense: Soderbergh, under the pseudonym "Peter Andrews" (his father's name), shot the film himself and gave each part of the film a distinct look: grainy, washed-out yellow . for Mexico; a solemn blue splendor for Cincinnati; sunny colors for San Diego.