‘But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent…’
Blow was one of those films as a teenager that friends of mine would enthuse about over bars of Galaxy Caramel and cans of American Cream Soda. It was a simpler time. Whenever true cinematic classics such as Goodfellas, Donnie Brasco and Pulp Fiction were mentioned, Blow wouldn’t be far behind. When I did finally watch it, I remember feeling pretty underwhelmed before falling asleep for the middle section of the movie. As I’ve never returned to it (until now), I’ve always had a nagging feeling that I’ve missed out on something. Watching Blow again now, I can see the appeal but I also kinda relate to the chubby teenager who feel asleep watching it first time round…
George Jung (Johnny Depp) is a kid from Chicago who goes from selling a bit of weed on the beaches of California to transporting millions of dollars worth of cocaine across America via the cartels of Mexico and Pablo Escobar, much to the chagrin of his loving father Fred (Ray Liotta) and his on/off lover Mirtha (Penelope Cruz).
So, here we have a tale as old as time. Small town boy gets into drugs, gets in over his head, ruins everyone else’s life, goes to prison, cleans up, provides a voiceover for the rest of the film. It’s Goodfellas. It’s Scarface. It’s 90% of all gangster movies ever released. Taken on face value, there is a lot to enjoy here however. Depp in his pomp is a pleasure to watch and he delivers a multifaceted and compelling performance despite sporting a variety of terrible haircuts. He particularly lands the genuinely distressing final scene and this is a timely reminder that when he wants to be good, he can be very good.
Unfortunately, the supporting cast often shrink in Depp’s shadow with Cruz forgettable, Cliff Curtis lacking menace as Pablo Escobar and Ethan Suplee miscast as Jung’s sometime right hand man. Only Liotta really shines in a similarly patriarchal role to the one he played with such warmth in Field of Dreams. Director Ted Demme too often allows Blow to meander, and too often falls back on familiar beats and tropes that we have seen many times before.
Ultimately, Blow is a film that is enjoyable when shorn of context, but there are so many better films with a similar or identical story that it becomes easy to see why it was critically ignored upon release. A fan favourite maybe, but a poor substitute for the real thing. A fugazi if you will indulge me a reference to a much better Johnny Depp movie.