Miss Bala (2018)

★★½
“Cultural appropriation”

As the lazy joke goes, I preferred this film the first time I saw it, when it was called… Well, actually, it was called Miss Bala then too, this being a remake in (mostly) English of the Mexican movie from 2011. Its remake status probably explains why both protagonist and cartel boss antagonist are American citizens: convenient to avoid those pesky subtitles, yet it also allows the director to avoid blaming poor, downtrodden Mexico – in an interview, she pinned the drug business on “American demand, and of course, American guns.” Calling that a gross simplification is an insult to gross simplifications.

It keeps a similar structure to the original, albeit with tweaks necessary to get a Yankee involved. Rather than a beauty pageant contestant herself, Gloria (Rodriguez) is a Los Angeles make-up artist visiting her friend in Tijuana. After witnessing a nightclub shoot-out after which her friend vanishes, and making an incredibly stupid decision to tell the first cop she sees about it (really, I’ve spent one weekend in Mexico and know better than that), she ends up under the thumb of Los Estrellas, a cartel run by Lino Esparza (Córdova) – hey, also brought up in America! After unwittingly dropping off a car-bomb that blows up a DEA safe-house, Gloria also ends up under the thumb of Brian Reich (Lauria), a federal agent who makes her operate as an undercover mole inside the gang.

When Chris discovered the director of this was responsible for Twilight, she paused and then asked with a concerned expression, “They’re not going to turn into sparkly vampires, are they?” Fortunately, they don’t. Yet the adjustment in story is almost as problematic, because it seriously weakens Gloria’s motivation to comply. Rather than having her direct family be threatened, it’s just some friend and her little brother; we’re given no reason to understand her desperate willingness to do anything to save them. There’s also the sudden transformation into a heavily-armed beauty queen at the end, where one quick session of “Fire at them from the pointy end” training apparently turns her into the evening-gown clad angel of death shown in the picture.

Hardwicke even complained the film’s poor reviews were due to male critics preferring the more passive heroine of the original. Uh, no. It’s more that the 2011 version didn’t go full Peppermint – and with less justification. It was because its original heroine was atypical which made it work better. The remake manages to reproduce the flaws, while weakening the best element: depicting the futility of struggling against immensely powerful forces on both sides of the law, which really don’t care, save for how they can use you for their own purposes. Depressing, maybe; yet it had a realism this version could use, wanting instead to be both empowering wish-fulfillment and gritty narcocinema. Hardwicke should have swallowed her faux-feminist outrage, and just given us 90 minutes of Rodriguez shooting shit up in a long dress.

Dir: Catherine Hardwicke
Star: Gina Rodriguez, Ismael Cruz Córdova, Matt Lauria, Ricardo Abarca

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