Loving Pablo [Hating Escobar]

In 2009, Virginia Vallejo was a columnist for the Venezuelan opposition newspaper 6to Poder, before Hugo Chavez had it shuttered and threw her boss in prison. It is an important story, but it will have to wait for a different movie. This one focuses solely on her affair with notorious cartel boss Pablo Escobar and his fall from power. Unfortunately, Vallejo is nearly dragged down with him in Fernando León de Aranoa’s Loving Pablo (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

This film is adapted from Vallejo’s memoir Loving Pablo, Hating Escobar, so even though the story is credited to documentarians Jeff & Michael Zimbalist (who made The Two Escobars), the film never really asks the obvious question: “what the Hell was Vallejo thinking?” We see her falling for Escobar’s Lord Bountiful act in the Medellin slums and then suddenly she is the drug lord’s mistress and also an advisor to his successful congressional campaign. Seriously, what happened to journalistic distance? Of course, it will not be long before Vallejo rues the day she met Escobar.

According to the film’s account, Vallejo was already a celebrity “journalist” when Escobar paid her (and several others) to lend star power to one of his many lavish parties. Generally, those with high social standing were happy to accept his hospitality, but they never mingled with their “nouveau riche” hosts. That was a euphemism for drug dealers. Vallejo would be an exception. Escobar started his charm offensive at the party, but he sealed the deal when Vallejo produced a story about his supposed philanthropic projects.

Despite the double-speak, Vallejo knew well enough just exactly what Escobar was. In fact, she was present as arm candy at several milestone meetings of the allied cartels (Medellin, Cali, etc.). For a while, she manages to keep kidding herself, but when Escobar’s political opponents are gunned down in broad daylight, she finally snaps out of her denial. As the heat turns up on Escobar, she also starts receiving threatening phone calls from the friends and family of his victims.

Granted, Loving Pablo can get a little cheesy at times. Vallejo does not actually accuse Escobar of stealing her youth, but a line like that would not sound out of place in this film. Nevertheless, it offers a somewhat unusual vantage point on the gangster-rise-and-fall narrative, from the perspective of the disillusioned mistress and media consultant.

You also have to give Javier Bardem credit for all the De Niro pounds he packed on to play Escobar. He looks so bad, viewers will fear for his health. In contrast, Penélope Cruz looks fabulous as Vallejo. When you see them together in Loving Pablo, it is dashed hard to believe they are still married in real life. In terms of actual acting, Bardem growls and chews the scenery with abandon, but his portrayal pales compared to heavy, career defining work in Biutiful and To the Wonder. Arguably, Cruz fares better doubling-down on glamour and old school oh-if-I-had-but-known melodramatic chops as Vallejo. Peter Sarsgaard also helps keep things lively as the corner-cutting but still somewhat principled DEA agent, Shepard.

Loving Pablo has epic ambitions León de Aranoa is not able to fulfill, but he delivers a super-slick two-hour nostalgia trip for eighties-centric fans of Miami Vice and Scarface. That’s definitely something. Recommended accordingly as a grandly shallow indulgence, Loving Pablo opens this Friday (10/5) in New York, at the Village East.

ma ma: Penelope Cruz Wants You to Cry

Magda and Arturo have the opposite of a meet-cute. She is in the hospital for breast cancer treatment, while he has come to say goodbye to his soon to be late wife (having already lost their daughter). Those are some intense experiences to bond over, so you can’t really blame them for marrying so quickly. Unfortunately, they will experience some rotten déjà vu halfway through Julio Medem’s ma ma (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

If you feel a lump during the given self-examination of your gender, do not put off having it examined like Magda does. By the time Julián, her handsome gynecologist with a seductive singing voice biopsies it, the cancer has advanced to a stage requiring a mastectomy. Obviously, Magda is concerned, but she ratchets up her resolve, arranging family to care for her oblivious son Dani and somewhat passive aggressively banishing her ex-husband Raúl from her life. In a case of better late than never, he deeply regrets not being there for her. When he sets about to make amends, it might just be the first miracle attributable to Saint Magda.

Unfortunately, Arturo’s wife and daughter are still dead (from a car crash he was not a party to), but Magda appears to make a complete recovery. Arturo the professional football scout also gets on smashingly with Dani, the talented junior player. However, Magda somehow manages to delay her follow-up exams to the point beyond all reasonable hope. Yet, despite her dreary diagnosis, Magda will keep her recent pregnancy. Their daughter will be her legacy. Besides, as their close family friend, Julián the singing gynecologist will help Arturo and Dani raise her.

Right, so basically ma ma is the most depressing reboot of Three Men and a Baby ever (even the reformed Raúl promises to chip in, making it a veritable barbershop quartet). Yet, for all its naked manipulations, it is impossible to dismiss the film, because it represents such a distinctive vision. It is sort of like a Paolo Sorrentino film on Benzedrine and chorizo. To describe it as an operatic ode to motherhood would be an understatement. It is secular hagiography at its boldest. Plus, there is bizarre symbolism of the Siberian waif (who Julián supposedly was unable to adopt) strolling through the film like a silent Greek chorus.

So, no, subtly is not Medem’s thing. To give her credit, Penelope Cruz antes up at every call. She plays Magda with such ferocious dignity it downright hurts to watch. Basically, the usually forceful Luis Tosar is emasculated by her shadow. This is obviously Medem’s Madonna story, so Arturo, the poor man’s Joseph is just an afterthought.

Realism is probably not much of a priority either. Nobody is claiming to be a doctor here, but we imagine most women with stage three cancer who are also eight months pregnant would not be so keen to frolic on the beach—but hey, more power to Magda. Medem will absolutely beat us over the head with her courage and determination, but at least he does it with style, so it is hard to resent him for it. This is not just a drippy tearjerker, but rather an auteurist re-invention of melodrama. Recommended for those who find Pedro Almodovar too upbeat and Terrence Malick too understated, ma ma opens this Friday (5/20) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine.