WHERE Netflix
WHAT Cocaine Cowboys Reloaded
THOUGHTS
First, as an artist, I just love the design of the poster. An uzi made of cocaine perfectly sums up Miami in the 70’s and 80’s. I’m not the biggest fan of gangster films, Miami, or doing coke so this was all knew to me. Miami’s history of smuggling is quite romantic in a way, and I found myself hating the law for trying to put a stop to it. Which is so strange because coke is the worst; seriously. Any other drug is fine. Ish. Not meth. Or bath salts. But coke just wrecks your body. WRECKS. Nevertheless, it built the Miami skyline, brought us some pretty great music, and I’m assuming, some pretty great times for people. It also placed some of the craziness of Florida in context, which begs the question, what IS Florida? What IS Miami? I didn’t know the Miami of the now is so new, which again puts it into a context I hadn’t thought of before. I’ve only ever been to Miami once, briefly, to board a cruise ship. I only remember the street art.
The documentary is long. very long. It’s a little over 2.5 hours but I feel like an armchair expert on the subject of Miami cocaine smuggling. I found it better than any dramatized film on coke. Or smuggling. And everyone felt so sincere. For the most part; it began with a kind of romantic view of smuggling with pilots and captains of boats smuggling some pot and coke here and there… that is, until Columbia got involved until the drug violence of Columbia spilled over into the game and changed it forever; it does a great job of not demonizing the Columbian people for their particular way of life at the time, which I really liked. (There’s nothing worse than armchair anthropologists assuming their way is the best way. It’s too ironic.)
There’s also unintentional comedic moments in some of the interviews. Well, or I’m just a dick. Below is a paraphrased script that I found hilarious. Pause-the-movie-hilarious!
“I was a model. He was a photographer so I posed for him. He bought me everything I wanted. I didn’t know he was into coke. But, I rarely saw him because he lived in Columbia.”
Like, I’m not at all saying all Columbian’s are into coke. That’s absurd and impossible. But I am saying, that if you’re dating someone who pays everything in cash, has erratic moods, is not Columbian but lives in Columbia, and has his own plane, it’s reasonable to assume that A: he isn’t a real photographer, and B: he’s probably into coke. It’s the kind of comedy that only reflection brings.
Watch it, though. It’s a pretty amazing documentary.
The Blue Egret 