George Jung. You should know his name. If you were doing coke during the late '70s and early '80s in the United States, there was an 85 percent chance that the coke originated from a man named Pablo Escobar, and was then distributed by George Jung.
For doing the United States the small favor of introducing it to cocaine, Jung now finds himself in jail without parole until 2014. His rapid rise to power (and, of course, his fall) is detailed in director Ted Demme's new film, Blow.
George, played by the ever-interesting and always exciting Johnny Depp, grows up as the son of Fred Jung (Ray Liotta), a hard working but poor Bostonian. He vows never to rely on money as his mother did and to always have plenty of it.
He travels to California to live the life of an elusive beach hippie and soon finds himself selling pot on a large scale and making hordes of money with the help of his distributors Derek Foreal (Paul Reubens), Tuna (Ethan Suplee of Remember the Titans) and Barbara Buckley (Franka Potente of Run Lola Run). The drugs become more serious and the quantities skyrocket after George makes a valuable connection in jail. The money flows in torrents, as do the problems.
Don't let the previews fool you. This is not a quick, fun, high-velocity look at the entertaining life of drug dealers. This is a raw portrait - almost a biopic - of a man who wanted the good life and to be a good father. The fact that he was a drug dealer is almost incidental to his success story.
In the end - save for Jung's relationship with his daughter, which becomes surprisingly tender - the film is unexciting. The material is well trodden, and the similarities to past drug and crime films are undeniable. There is the requisite drug deal gone bad, the betrayal, the drugged-out wife (played adequately by Penelope Cruz), the happy days of excess, and the hateful days of loss, loneliness, and prison. The twists and turns are visible long before they occur.
George Jung's life, while compelling, seems to have already been presented in dozens of previous films in similar ways. Johnny Depp's voice over throughout the film through sequences of drug transactions and freeze frames is remarkable reminiscent of Goodfellas, another film starring Ray Liotta.
The writing of David McKenna, who has faltered recently with Get Carter and Body Shots after his awe-inspiring debut, American History X, and Nick Cassavetes who directed She's So Lovely and the upcoming John Q, is competent, if not a bit tame, and never falls into cheap moralizing. Demme's direction lends some strength to the film, using the camera, lighting, and different film stocks to effectively convey the feeling of each scene.
Everyone involved with the project seemed to be trying very hard to inject this movie with some life and create a compelling film, but while engaging and memorable at times, Blow will not be remembered as a classic. Depp swaggers through the role deftly displaying his originality and wit, the camera and editing add interesting elements to the telling of the tale, and the supporting cast does its job.
It seems a shame that this type of material has been done over time and again because Blow is a solid piece of work. Despite its flaws, it is impossible to ignore that the film has been created with care, feeling, and thought. And that is what stays with you long after you leave the theater.
