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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

‘Cartel Land’: Scarier than ‘Sicario’

Dan Webster

Though recent events have proven the Academy Awards to be as much a political statement as they are a popularity contest, they remain both the literal and symbolic gold standard of the U.S. film industry. As such, they can't be ignored. Which is one reason why I reviewed a film, the Oscar-nominated documentary feature "Cartel Land," that isn't playing in any local theater but instead is available through various streaming services (I saw it courtesy of Netflix).

Another reason for me to review it? "Cartel Land" scared the veritable wit out of me. Following is a transcription of the review that I wrote for Spokane Public Radio:

Denis Villeneuve’s film “Sicario” delivers a stunningly scary portrayal of the drug war being waged on both sides of the U.S.-Mexican border – a war that, according to official reports, has caused some 164,000 Mexican deaths since 2007. “Sicario,” justifiably, has been rewarded with three Academy Award nominations – though, sadly, Benicio del Toro’s acting was overlooked.

Yet “Sicario” isn’t the only Oscar-nominated study of the Mexican Drug war. Matthew Heineman’s “Cartel Land” is one of five nominees up for Best Documentary Feature. And if anything, Heineman’s film is even scarier than “Sicario.”

The why of this involves a couple of things. One, Heineman’s documentary takes us directly into the true-life murderous conflict; it introduces us to real people on both sides of the border and puts actual faces to the growing vigilante movements both deep in Mexico and, north of the Rio Grande. Two, though “Cartel Land” starts out seemingly as a simple study of good versus bad, it gradually evolves into something far more complex. It becomes an examination of whether vigilante justice – no matter how well-intentioned at the start – is doomed, ultimately, to become just another example of would-be good guys falling prey to the lure of egotism and/or big money.

Overall, Heineman takes a broad view of the drug war, even as he avoids following the typical protagonists. The only government representatives here are held firmly in the background, referred to in news reports or dismissed as ineffectual – or worse – by citizen self-defense groups in both the U.S. and Mexico. Instead, Heineman takes us to the Arizona border, where he introduces us to Tim Foley, leader of the self-proclaimed Arizona Border Recon, a volunteer group that patrols the state’s frontier scrublands in search both of illegal immigrants and cartel drug mules.

He contrasts the efforts of Foley’s group with those of Dr. Jose Manuel Mireles, leader of the Mexican self-defense organization known as the Autodefensas. The charismatic, mustachioed Mireles spearheads the efforts to unite the towns of the Mexican state of Michoacan. His target? The Knights Templar cartel, the group that through murder and extortion – and, some charge, aided by factions within the Mexican government – had become the region’s ruling power.

And we meet others, too, from those who have seen family members slain by cartel assassins to the assassins themselves – most strikingly in scenes where Heineman and his cameraman Matt Porwoll film cartel members brewing meth by firelight.

But what makes “Cartel Land” special, and particularly frightening, is that – unlike most mainstream movies and TV shows – it reflects the more ambiguous state of human affairs. While Mireles plays the classic hero, he proves to have feet of adobe. Meanwhile, his American counterpart Foley ends up making a strange kind of sense: If you felt as if your government were failing at one of its basic functions, protecting the general welfare, you might feel free to pick up a gun, too.

Problem is, as has been proven time and again, few of us in the real world can handle a Glock as well as Benicio del Toro.