Cast: Johnny Depp, Penélope Cruz, Franka Potente, Rachel Griffiths, Paul Reubens, Jordi Mollà, Ray Liotta
Director: Ted Demme
Producers: Ted Demme, Denis Leary, Joel Stillerman
Screenplay: David McKenna and Nick Cassavetes, based on the book by Bruce Porter
Cinematography: Ellen Kuras
Music: Graeme Revell
U.S. Distributor: New Line Cinema
Blow is the third movie in the past six months to plunge audiences hip-deep into the drug culture. And, like both Requiem For a Dream and Traffic, Ted Demme's feature manages to carve out enough of a unique niche that it never seems to be imposing upon frequently-trodden territory. This is an effective and powerful motion picture that follows the rise and fall of drug dealer George Jung (Johnny Depp) as his story plays out against the ever-shifting tapestry of the '60s, '70s, and '80s. Based on a true story (as related in Bruce Porter's book and adapted for the screen by David McKenna and Nick Cassavetes) and employing a voiceover narrative, Blow shows how George's insatiable desire for material possessions leads him to betray, or be betrayed by, nearly everyone he knows or loves.
The film opens with a brief segment set in George's childhood. His hard-working father, Ray (Ray Liotta), and materialistic mother (Rachel Griffiths) are forced to declare bankruptcy when they can't make ends meet. Ray gives George some advice: "Money isn't real. It doesn't matter; it only seems like it does." That's a lesson George doesn't take to heart; by the late '60s, he's on his own and determined not to end up in the dire financial straits that paralyzed his parents. So he heads out to California with his best friend, Tuna (Ethan Suplee), to make his fortune. There, he meets the love of his life, Barbara (Franka Potente), and, with the help of Barbara's friend, Derek (Paul Reubens), gets established selling pot. Soon, "Boston George" is the King of the Beach, but he realizes that the real money is in transporting the drug to the East Coast, where college students will pay top dollar. So, using the services of Barbara, who is a stewardess (and whose bags are not checked at airports), he sets up a distribution network that nets both him and Derek $15,000 a week - until he gets caught.
While in prison, George's Colombian cellmate (Jordi Mollà) suggests that he change his product from marijuana to cocaine. After being freed from jail, George goes to Colombia, where he is introduced to the most powerful drug lord in South America, Pablo Escobar (Cliff Curtis). Escobar likes what he sees, and soon George and his new wife, Mirtha (Penelope Cruz), are supplying roughly 85% of the United States' coke. But it's a risky business, especially when the dealer is also a user.
In the way it tracks the arc of a man's life and career across the years, Blow recalls Boogie Nights, although the industry here is drugs, not pornography. This is also not a message movie - it doesn't show the effect of drugs upon anyone except George and his family. Blow wants us to see George as a sympathetic, or at least human, figure, not a demonized drug lord. Consequently, Demme is careful never to show any of the "victims" of George's business. Such an approach would have unbalanced the movie's careful rhythm.
Ultimately, the film isn't as much about drugs as it is about generational dynamics - fathers and children. The two relationships that form Blow's emotional foundation are those of George and his father and George and his daughter. The tragedy of the film is that, in one way or another, George manages to betray the two people he loves the most. His failure in these relationships is the thing that haunts him and reduces him to a shadow of the man he once was. In depicting George's relationships with his father and daughter, Blow does an excellent job with an economy of scenes.
Blow doesn't do an autopsy of the drug distribution process, but it gives us a few intriguing glimpses (including during the opening credits, when it shows cocaine being made and packaged). However, just as the movie isn't about the end-user victims, it isn't about the process, either. Blow is about George - the choices he makes, the means by which he attains the top, and the distance he must plunge to reach the bottom.
For Johnny Depp, this represents an opportunity to stretch his range - something he is able to do admirably. Playing George requires him to appear as everything from a fresh-faced twenty-something full of hope and vigor to a fifty-year old man who has been broken by life. Depp doesn't miss a beat. We see all of George's sides: the arrogance, the anger, the fear, the insecurity, and the remorse. The supporting cast is solid. Ray Liotta, still best known to date as the lead in Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas (with whom parallels can be drawn to George), portrays George's supportive father. For Liotta, this is a chance to essay a character who is calm and free of malevolence. Rachel Griffiths and Penelope Cruz play different kinds of shrews - neither is likable and both are detrimental to George. Jordi Mollà is George's Colombian "brother" and Paul Reubens, who looks more like Alan Cumming than Pee-Wee Herman, is singularly effective as the sexually ambivalent Derek. Finally, German actress Franka Potente (who starred at the title character in Run Lola Run and as the princess in the upcoming The Princess and the Warrior, both directed by Tom Tykwer) sheds her accent, but not her charisma, in playing Barbara.
For many years now, Ted Demme has labored in the shadow of his uncle, Jonathan. With Blow, the "other" Demme has finally made the kind of film that should earn him recognition for more than his name. The film has all the right elements in nearly flawless proportions - a well-written script, good acting across-the-board, and perfect pacing. At two hours in length, Blow seems neither bloated nor lean. And, for something released before the Oscar season of October through December, the movie boasts an uncommon level of intelligence to go along with the fine craftsmanship.
© 2001 James Berardinelli