When watching Traitor, the viewer is overcome by the weirdest
urge: You want to will the movie to become better than it really is.
The story, conceived by Jeffrey Nachmanoff and Steve Martin (yes,
that Steve Martin)—taking a “cop undercover in the mob”
movie and shifting it to the FBI and Al Qaeda—is so obvious that
it’s brilliant, and it’s almost impossible to fault a movie that
features Don
“I-even-turned-in-a-gripping-performance-in-motherfucking–Reign
Over Me” Cheadle so prominently. But the fact is that
Traitor is just not a good movie, and all the Cheadle in the
world can’t save it.
The problem lies mostly in the direction: There are a few surprises,
but for the most part the film is choked with bad CSI-style cuts
and a supporting cast that can’t do anything more than pose. Guy Pearce
turns in his worst acting job ever, with a lame Southern accent that
should’ve been aborted in the rehearsal stage. Neal McDonough brings
nothing more than his freaky blue eyes and the same tired old growl
that he’s trotted out on a million TV shows.
The only actor who keeps pace with Cheadle’s mournful elegance is
Saïd Taghmaoui. In a time when most actors of Arab descent are
cashing supporting-actor checks by phoning in roles as either snarling
monsters or tortured martyrs, Taghmaoui’s Omar is an America-hating
terrorist who is actually sympathetic. Cheadle and Taghmaoui make you
wish Traitor was a better movie, but the fact is—despite
occasional flashes of lovely, globe-trotting cinematography—it’s
strictly TV-movie fare. FBI agents say pithy things like, “I must’ve
forgotten my Bill of Rights at home” as they punch terrorists in the
gut, and the terrorists pontificate about how “you must be willing to
sacrifice some of your pawns to win the game.” There’s more realistic
dialogue and characterization in your standard episode of
24.