Respond to these rapid questions in our Traffik quiz and we will tell you which Traffik character you are. Play it now.
“Traffik” begins with the classic cinematic lie that it is “inspired by true events” and ends with statistics about women who have been victims of human trafficking in the United States. A steaming pile of exploitative horse manure masquerading as a feature dedicated to the sexual enslavement of women sits in the space between these two bookends. Such films have existed since the beginning of filmmaking, pretended to be self-righteously informative while reveling in every salacious detail of the very thing that they are rallying against. The exploitation genre is notorious for portraying its subjects in a grotesque manner, but “Traffik” is particularly egregious in its portrayal simply because its absurd horror movie clichés make it impossible to be taken seriously.
With this film, I was reminded of Roger’s reviews for “Wolf Creek” and “Chaos,” two films he gave no stars for being completely devoid of entertainment value. In response to a question I once asked Roger about the deciding factor in awarding a film no stars, he responded that these were films he considered to be “morally reprehensible.” Although the fact that I didn’t find “Traffik” to be morally repugnant probably says more about me than it does about the film, I’m willing to admit that I did enjoy some of the film’s home invasion sequences. There isn’t a single honest moment in the entire 96-minute runtime of “Traffik.” A character calls his girlfriend a whore after she sleeps with another character, and the camera of writer/director Deon Taylor leers at Paula Patton’s body and lingers on the battered Daisy Duke shorts of a battered woman in distress. As an added bonus, he includes forced drug injections and an attempted rape in the mix, filming these scenes as if he were putting together the second half of a grindhouse double bill. Then, just before the credits roll, “Traffik” tries to fool us into thinking we’ve just watched a journalistic exposé on the subject. I wasn’t going to buy it.
There will be spoilers from here on out. For the time being, let us grant “Traffik” the benefit of the doubt. Let us suppose that it is truly attempting to bring attention to the issue of human trafficking. So why does the audience have to sit through endless minutes of soap opera-style histrionics before anyone even brings up the subject of the episode? Why don’t we get to know even one of the women who have become entangled in the illegal ring? What is it about the villains that makes them one-note hicksploitation caricatures? How does a horror movie hero end up making the kinds of mistakes that cause people to scream at the screen in frustration?
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During my screening, which was only moderately attended, an enraged patron yelled, “Just give him the phone!” The phone in question is a satellite phone that Brea (Paula Patton) manages to slip into her bag while she’s using the restroom at a gas station. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can on the phone. Brea has been fired from her position as a reporter at the Sacramento Post, but she does not want this fact to overshadow her romantic birthday weekend with her boyfriend John (Omar Epps). A wealthy sports agent friend of John’s, Darren (Laz Alonzo), has granted John full access to a posh mountain retreat deep in the Northern California mountains. Brea and John, however, must first deal with a group of racist bikers led by Luke Goss before they can get to this beautiful piece of architectural porn. As a result of the bikers’ obnoxious and stereotypical comments about John’s awesome muscle car that he has rebuilt from the frame up, John punches one of the bikers out. Just as the situation is about to spiral out of control, Detective Sally Marnes (an excruciatingly bad Missi Pyle) shows up at the gas station to break it up.
Traffik Quiz
In the end, Brea and John arrive at their destination after a mildly thrilling chase scene that was included specifically for the benefit of the gearheads in the crowd. When Brea and John return from an afternoon spent getting freaky in the great outdoors, they are unexpectedly visited by Darren and his most recent fling, Malia (Roselyn Sanchez). Darren is high and incredibly irritable, to the point where you almost wish someone would shoot him in the face. After all, as the old adage goes, “Be careful what you wish for.” The foursome get into a heated argument in which secrets are revealed and Malia becomes enraged. Brea is also enraged, and it appears that John’s plans to propose to her have been tossed to the wind as well.
Also, you will find out which character are you in this Traffik quiz.
You’ll notice that I’ve left out any mention of sexual slavery. At this point, the movie hasn’t either, despite the fact that we’re nearly halfway through its running time. The aforementioned misplaced cell phone rings, and when Brea retrieves it from her bag, she realizes that it belongs to the woman who was using the restroom at the time. The cryptic message the woman gave her is also something she remembers, a message that turns out to be the phone’s code. Upon unlocking, the phone reveals hundreds upon hundreds of photographs of beaten women, including those of the phone’s original owner. The next day, she shows up almost immediately to pick it up from Brea.
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Brea politely declines the woman’s request. She intends to use the information contained in the phone to write the big front-page story that will result in her job being reinstated. The phone remains in Brea’s possession despite warnings from a visitor that the people in charge will kill everyone unless she gives up the phone. Even after people begin to have their brains blown out by the evil bikers, she is adamant about holding on to her possession. This results in a series of increasingly ridiculous events in which Brea attempts to imitate the Scream Queens of old by doing incredibly stupid things in order to gain attention. Before Brea is captured and prepared to be sold to the highest bidder, the majority of the cast is graphically murdered in front of the camera. Brea’s capture is underscored by the song “Strange Fruit,” which is performed by Nina Simone, no joke. After singing about lynched Black people, Missi Pyle walks toward the camera in slow motion, a smirking face on her face. This is completely beyond me as to why Taylor, who is an African-American director, thought it was a good idea.
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The resolution offered by “Traffik” is as absurd as the rest of the story. When everything else fails, it is journalism that saves the day, paving the way for the possibility of a second installment. The credits roll over footage of the California Freeway that has been turned upside down, which makes about as much sense as anything else in this offensive shambles.
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