The “War on Drugs” has faded into the recesses of public consciousness since the turn of the century, overtaken by the events of 9/11 and the subsequent and ongoing events in the Middle East. Nonetheless, we are occasionally reminded of the former, through news reports such as the recent capture of Mexican drug lord and head of the Sinaloa Cartel, Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, or through the occasional crime movie or television show. Sicario is one such movie, dropping viewers into a shadowy, brutal, and sometimes extralegal war-zone that rages along the southern border of the United States. The film, however, is more than your typical “things blow up for the sake of blowing up” sort of movie. It seeks to make a larger point about the controversial morality of certain covert black-ops techniques, whether the ends justify the means, the overall lack of results and general futility of the drug war, and its impact on individuals, communities, and governments alike. [Warning: spoilers ahead]
Sicario tells the fictional story, viewed from the eyes of a low-ranking FBI agent called Kate Macer (played by Emily Blunt), of a joint American-Mexican campaign against a Mexican drug lord responsible for numerous deaths north of the border. The movie begins with a raid on a cartel house led by Kate that revealed dozens of corpses of cartel victims sealed within the buildings’ walls. While further investigating the premises, however, two police officers are killed by an improvised explosive device. Kate’s superiors subsequently recommend her for an interagency operation spearheaded by the jovial yet mysterious Matt Graver (played by Josh Brolin) and his equally mysterious partner, Alejandro (played by Benicio del Toro). While Kate accepts this assignment, she is kept largely in the dark about the agencies involved, the real objectives behind the operation, and its legality. As she is dragged along for the ride, Kate is appalled to discover the operation’s complete lack of regard for procedure, legality, and ethics. Matt and Alejandro casually beat, threaten, and waterboard prisoners for information, all while operating in Mexican territory without jurisdiction. Kate also learns the real objective of the operation—to restore a semblance of order to the region by eliminating the Mexican drug lord and handing power over to the ‘more amenable’ Columbian Medellin cartel (side note: such a typical CIA move). Indeed, as Matt cynically explains (and reflecting the overall futility of the War on Drugs), “[u]ntil someone finds a way to stop 20 percent of America putting this [expletive deleted] up their nose, order is the best we can hope for.”
From the very beginning of the film all the way to the end credits, Sicario maintains a heightened sense of tension and discomfort through the combination of a well put-together script, amazing cinematography, a simple yet foreboding score, and an unflinchingly upfront treatment of the subject matter. The performance by Benicio del Toro was particularly powerful. Staying in the background for much of the movie, del Toro still manages to exude a certain kind of magnetism in all the scenes he is a part of without saying very much at all, keeping viewers wary and on guard as to what his character’s true intentions are and where his allegiances lie. And when the latter is finally revealed, all the little details in del Toro’s performance—from his apparent ruthlessness when dealing with the cartel men down to the dark pain that one sees partially hidden in his character’s eyes—come together to unveil the sheer brilliance of it all.
Ultimately, Sicario is as much a thriller as it is a commentary on the moral ambiguities and futility of the drug war. Indeed, it can almost be likened to be “the Zero Dark Thirty for the War on Drugs,” with both movies posing the deeply uncomfortable question to viewers as to whether these wars are, in the words of veteran American foreign correspondent, Sebastian Rotella, “turning us into the very monsters we are trying to defeat.”
Final Rating: 4/5 Stars