WITH ALL the critical drool coating Steven Soderbergh's Traffic before its release, all the accolades and raves and nominations, one would think that the film somehow transcends its medium, maybe even shakes up the world a little. The topic, after all--America's War on Drugs--is ripe for controversy, and Soderbergh himself has emerged recently, after such films as Out of Sight, The Limey, and even Erin Brockovich, as one of the best directors working today, a director not afraid to take risks for the sake of art. But the result, despite all the awards and slots on "10 Best" lists, doesn't quite live up to the expectations (or the acclaim, for that matter). In the end, Traffic is more of a whimper than a flash of brilliance. A political docudrama with all the insight of an after-school special.

Most Hollywood films about drugs tend to follow one of two story lines: Good Guys versus Bad, or the Rise and Fall (and Eventual Re-Rise) of an Addict--the Lethal Weapon and Go Ask Alice territories that we have all become bored with, maybe even immune to at this point. Cops try to catch dealers, and every addict follows the same story arc--sweet and innocent, fucked up on drugs, crash... recovery! They are drug tales at their most simple; easily digestible for the unwashed masses. There is rarely a gray area, outside the perceived allegiance of a fellow cop, or the shady behavior of the cute new boyfriend. In the end, most drug movies are nothing more than simple morality tales--drugs bad, not doing/ selling drugs good.

Traffic wants to exist in a gray area, where the lines between right and wrong are often blurred, but somehow it manages to fail. For all its posturing, it's really nothing more than these two stories mashed together (the inevitable consequence, I suppose, of condensing a six-hour BBC miniseries into a two-and-a-half-hour star vehicle), shot with a grainy, handheld camera for an aura of importance. All the talk of a "major indictment of America's War on Drugs" is, in the end, pure nonsense. There are hints at condemnation, to be sure, but nothing really laid plain. In the end, the film is a coward. A big drug movie full of questions, but never offering any answers (or even ideas, for that matter). A bundle of loose ends knotted up into one big Drug War ball of yarn.

The film begins by tossing a handful of random characters into the air, then sits back for the remainder of its 147 minutes to watch how they land. Some gently glide back to Earth, others crash violently, but in the end they all have one thing in common: They've all had to pick themselves up off the ground. That is the big message in Traffic, perfectly laid-out by its tagline: "Nobody gets away clean." Read the poster and you've saved $8.50. Drugs lead to bad things, that is the moral, and I believe I learned it in ninth-grade health class.

Of course, I'm not being completely fair. The film is not terrible, by any means. All the performances, especially Benicio Del Toro, are universally swell. The story, such as it is, moves, and Soderbergh's direction certainly has its moments. Somebody even gets shot in the foot. But all the praise lavished upon Traffic's lap is completely unfounded; the trumpet blasts heralding a masterpiece ring hollow. Overrated, I believe, is the word. Every year about this time there is a film that the critics go apeshit over, a film that doesn't really deserve it. Last year it was American Beauty, the year before that Shakespeare In Love. This year it may be Traffic (although I haven't seen Cast Away). Going in to the film I was all nervous excitement. Leaving, I was slumping dissatisfaction. I walked in anticipating a lightning rod, a film that took on the Drug War and showed it for what it was--a complete failure, a dunderheaded scheme. I left having watched an arty episode of Miami Vice. A glossy episode of Frontline starring Gordon Gekko.

All the flashy directorial touches and sterling performances in the world can't cover the fact that Traffic is just another example of Hollywood tackling a complex problem with the simplest and most conservative of solutions. Expect six Academy Awards, including Best Picture.