Cocaine Cowboys

Its hard to imagine just how poignant the “where did it all go wrong” moment must have been when Mickey Munday aimed his flare gun at the oil slick he had hastily created in a last ditch attempt to escape the federal agents who were rapidly closing in. Billy Corbin’s Cocaine Cowboys was the ride of a lifetime, a film so honest and comprehensive (with a major exception) that for much of the film the drug trade took on a human face it sorely lacks. However what Cocaine Cowboys does not show is how the nation’s drug habit and the forces which reacted to it changed much more than the streets of Miami.

            The first part of the film which shows the rise of Munday and Jon Roberts (among several others) gives a glimpse into a world which feels more like a Hollywood blockbuster rather than a feasible truth. The sheer amount of money, drugs, innovation, and success came off more like a college student’s dream life than a historical account of a violent and despised enterprise. It was strange to see the origins of the Miami drug trade which lacked violence (comparatively) being presented by two likable guys.  Watching drug money allow Miami to flourish when the rest of the country was struggling to keep their nose above water begged the question; would I have cared as long as my city was prosperous?

            The Dadeland shooting seems to have answered that question for both Miami and the majority of the United States.  For those interviewed in the film, this was a clear turning point in the narcotics trade in the United States.  The threat of violence had always been very real, but never materialized to a degree near what occurred in the aftermath of the Dadeland massacre. The turning point they all referenced was not simply the increase in violence, but apparently was the first offensive launched by the federal government in the war on drugs. Paul Gootenberg’s article in The Americas which focuses on the Pre-Columbian narcotics trade shatters that assumption, noting that the U.S. had launched a “secret war” on cocaine as early as 1947. (Gootenberg, 134). However the film is correct in defining the post Dadeland period and the advent of Vice-President Bush’s new initiatives as an entirely different level of federal intervention. What the film misses (after all it is focused on Miami) but both Youngers and Gootenberg focus on in their articles is how the War on Drugs has been affecting the South American countries.

            Youngers, in her article Collateral Damage, is especially hostile towards the effects of U.S. policies in Andean countries. Her primary argument is that U.S. policy is not only ineffective, but incredibly dangerous and damaging to Andean countries. She argues that the danger lies in how the U.S. has forced the largely feeble civilian governments to craft policies which favor the power of the traditionally violent and belligerent Andean militaries. (130-131) By the U.S. relying on the military, it is undermining the civilian governments which desperately need to find stable ground for issues that are much more critical than the drug war.

            While Youngers supports her arguments rather well, but it seems that she allows an understandable hostility towards U.S. policy drive her arguments into a territory that is overly simple and ignorant of how complex this situation is for all sides. It would be interesting to see how this article would have changed should it have been written with the current situation in Mexico be taken into account. Her advocacy for law enforcement over military in enforcement of drug policy would certainly have to be rewritten, as the cartels have proved far too strong for Mexican police to compete with.

            One thing is certain though, the War on Drugs cannot continue in its current form. It is a war of attrition that is funded by an apparently insatiable American appetite for narcotics. And as much as the American efforts in the Andean countries seem fruitless, as long as the American public demands action from their government, this long war will continue.

Our Lady of the Assassins

Upon first watching Our Lady of the Assassins it easily provoked an unequivocal thought in my mind, “this is the worst film I have ever seen.” While this assertion has not been abandoned, the film makes much more sense when placed alongside the readings. However this extra light shed by the readings in many ways further damns the film if it is approached with historical purpose. While approaching any film with such a narrow vision of what should be gained is presumptuous on the viewers part, the film did open this door by trying to be something more than the story of one man. The result was a plot which could not decide whether or not it wanted to simply be the story of a man, or if it wanted to be the story of Medillin.

            The primary problem with this film as it relates to this class ultimately lies with the fact that for many, there can be little to no empathy for the situation or the characters. First off, the 800 pound guerilla should be addressed. It is much better to be honest and provoke a true dialogue than skirting around an issue in order to be politically correct. The homosexuality made me uncomfortable and judging by the number of people looking away from the screen all at the same time, I know I was not the only one. However that alone could not have been the only problem because regardless of whatever personal convictions I might have I have never found homosexuality so disturbing. It then hit me as I argued with myself about how it was childish to let a homosexual relationship derail an academic approach to the film. It was not the homosexuality in and of itself, but rather that nature of the relationship and the two men in that relationship which ruined any chance for empathizing with Alexis or Fernando. It was borderline pedophilia with an old man who took advantage of the fact that he could basically purchase “love” of young boys to entertain him and listen to his rather insane rants. The only reason I take time to address this issue is that it undoubtedly detracts from the value of this film for many students, and I am only comfortable saying so after to talking to about a dozen classmates on top of the awkward silence after the film.

            As for the film itself, it failed in its attempt to frame its story, which was very personal while completely reliant on the extreme socio-economic situation in  Medillin. Fernando kept talking of the Medillin of old, as if everything was ok before Pablo and the cartels took power. But Hylton’s essay Evil Hour in Columbia presents a picture of Columbia which was never the peaceful and sleepy country Fernando recollects. These recollections, along with only passing comments trying to explain the violence and motivations of the gangs hurt the film. The violence was utterly senseless, yet while it should have been shocking, the film never really presented any understanding for it. The willingness of so man people to use violence as casually as holding a conversation is an incredibly shocking reality, but it never seems so in the film. It did not help that this film was shown after The City of God, which was masterful in how it allowed viewers to understand the motivations of even the most heinous acts of violence.

            With all of this being presented it was hard not to see Our Lady of the Assassins as fantastical; a story of characters who are hard to care for in a world that has no hint of reality. But this understanding is completely false when placed against the readings. Hylton’s essay is incredibly informative as it allows for this incomprehensible environment to become a historical reality. The conflicts between the conservatives, liberals, populist, and all their sub factions is deeply ingrained in the Columbian story and the sheer scale of these incredibly fluid conflicts allows for students to understand how violence had become such a normal part of life. The massive amount of acronyms which would put the bureaucracy of the United States to shame were constantly engaged in conflict, whether it be martial, economic, political, or cultural (or a combination of some or all). However throughout the conflicts that both Vargas and Hylton explore there was one constant feature that was missing from the film. Whether it was Gomez or Escobar or the dozens of other leaders, all the violence had some semblance of leadership and goals, something that was utterly non-existent in the post-Escobar Medillin. The figures and ideals which had propelled the violence were gone in Alexis’s world, yet the violence had remained as a deeply ingrained part of life.

            The final issue I wished to tackle was how the Church was portrayed in the film. While it was not unusual to see the deep Catholic influences shared by the killers, it was strange to see how the reverence was universal among a population which had been involved in a war which very much revolved around factions on the left which had traditionally seen the Church as an enemy. Hylton’s essay shed much needed light on the subject when it was explained how for much of the various conflicts the Church had fulfilled its traditional role of supporting conservative forces; however during the small period of reconciliation under Gomez the Church had tried to be a institution which worked for cooperation. Also the situation in Medillin during the period in which the film took place was not in the wake of political violence and contention, but in the aftermath of the very economic conflict experienced during the cartels rule.

            Overall Our Lady of the Assassins fails to ever allow for an audience ignorant of Columbia’s history to understand or care about the city in the film because it felt so unreal. In many ways this would be forgiveable due to the fact that the students in the United States were not the target audience. However, there were a few times where the film appeared to be attempting to give a context to the audience, and compared to films like City of God the movie failed in its attempt. Additionally, the characters who are meant to take us through this journey are tiring. Even the educated and reflective Fernando is so tiring in his self-righteousness as well as his unwillingness to do anything about the situation (including the much alluded to and entirely plausible escape) that to care about him or his murderous boy toys  (which are almost to the point of being inhuman, which is likely more of an issue of their portrayal in the film rather than who they were in reality) is for this writer, an unachievable goal.