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A physician in Michoacán, Mexico leads a citizen uprising against the drug cartel that has wrecked havoc on the region for years. Across the U.S. border, a veteran heads a paramilitary group working to prevent Mexico’s drug wars from entering U.S. territory.
Humanity has always been on a quest for power. It’s difficult to argue with the fact that most wars were essentially caused by our animalistic desire to lead, to reign over others. That feeling of superiority and control – be it over dozens or thousands or millions – drives us to rob and pillage and slaughter. And no matter how idealistic their cause, leaders tend to become corrupt, overwhelmed and aroused by their own authority – the line between right and wrong, between philanthropy and self-interest, becomes increasingly blurry.
Matthew Heineman’s edge-of-your seat documentary portrays the trajectory of such doomed idealism, through the prism of a Mexican cartel’s comparatively short lifespan. From the very first shot until the last unforgettable frame, it holds our attention like a first-rate thriller (the director’s intention), breathlessly taking us right into the midst of the action, making us participants, as opposed to mere passive observers. “Cartel Land” traces the rise and fall of a small empire, one of thousands, in a land riddled with warfare and unthinkable acts of violence – but it’s also a statement on our penchant for violence, a reflection on the state of current affairs…and a humanity that’s perhaps beyond exoneration.
The “empire” Heineman depicts began as the Autodefensas: a small-town citizen uprising in Michoacán, led by the charismatic Dr. Jose Mireles, also a physician, known as “El Doctor.” After his neighbors were beheaded by the Knights Templar cartel – and an innocent farmer family massacred by the same criminals (a heart-wrenching scene shows a family member describing the massacre in vivid detail), Dr. Mireles took matters in his own hands. He, along with fellow townsmen, “identified the houses where the Templars lived” and struck back (an edge-of-your-seat sequence follows them on their “hunt”, a prime example of the striking verisimilitude Heineman achieves in his documentary). They were met by “corrupt government forces,” who confiscated Autodefensas’ weapons – but the town rebelled and cornered the military, until their weapons were returned. Was it truly a “victory?” And was Mireles driven by a strong need for justice, or did he have a hero complex and merely craved recognition and servitude (after all, he’s shown as unfaithful, with numerous mistresses, of whom his saddened wife is bitterly aware)?
The beauty of Heineman’s documentary is that it’s never manipulative, and the emotions it evokes are always conflicting: small victories result in horrific consequences; in “Cartel Land,” one man’s justice is another man’s tragedy; the heroes become villains, but the preconception of “right” and “wrong” is questioned; a quest for peace gradually reveals itself as an exorcism of personal demons.
This latter observation may be applied to “Cartel Land”‘s other “cartel” leader, leathery-faced Tim “Nailer” Foley, a veteran living in Arizona’s Altar Valley (known as “Cocaine Alley”), right on the Mexican border. Abused by his father, and consequently resorting to drug abuse, Tim managed to quit, but grew appalled by the number of “illegals” after the economy crisis, working “under the table” and not paying taxes. This led to Tim forming the Arizona Border Recon, a paramilitary group, whose tracking of illegal immigrants morphed into a quest to hunt down drug cartels. Similarly to the Autodefensas, Tim was labeled a vigilante by the media. His unclear intentions lead to questions of motivation – is Tim just projecting the anger of his abusive childhood, searching for recognition (when asked why he does it, he says, “If not me, who else?”)? His troops’ reasoning differs wildly too: one man spews out nonsensical rhetoric about needing a wall to separate two groups of people who will never get along.
The film switches between Foley’s and Mireles’ stories: as Mireles’ troops became more violent, spinning out of his control and forming their own cartel, led by “Papa Smurf” (a frightening, insipid, chubby little man, lacking Mireles’ charisma but possessing an affinity for violence, who quickly lost the Autodefensas leadership to the Michoacán government, who, in turn, formed their own cartel, called the “Rural Defense Force”), Foley’s band of troops observed the news, approving of the cartels without any real understanding of their logistics, and attempted their own vigilante justice. If the film does have a flaw, it’s that Tim Foley’s story is under-developed, especially when compared to the “City of God”-like, deeply thorough portrait of the Autodefensas clan.
There are countless scenes of such power, they’ll wedge themselves into viewers’ minds forever. A girl recounts how she witnessed her entire family massacred by the Templars; she was later thrown in the graves with their dismembered bodies, raped and left alive to “live with it.” This leads to the viscerally intense apprehension of her captors. Another scene shows the Mexican President, assuring the civilians a “state of law” will be enforced – a statement that rings even more absurd from the perspective of the Autodefensas, to whom law, by this point, is an abstract term. Heineman is wise and true to his cinematic ambitions when it comes to portraying violence: at one point, Dr. Jose tells Chago, a member of the Autodefensas, to kill a member of the Templars, and Heineman wisely doesn’t show the consequences, letting the viewer’s imagination run wild.
Heineman’s goal to make his documentary as cinematic as possible was a success: “Cartel Land” is jam-packed with tremendously affecting, tragically beautiful visuals, such as the milk-white vapor building around a man cooking meth in pitch-blackness; or the outline of a guard, holding his rifle against the tangerine sunset, the juxtaposition of violence and beauty never more apparent; or a shot of white balloons, soaring into the air, an image of freedom in a world that knows none.
“Cartel Land” was criticized by some for lacking scope and answers – but that’s its point. There are no answers. Of all the competing drug lords and politicians, the reigning king in Cartel Land is chaos – and Heidelman’s brutally efficient documentary, an early contender for the Academy Awards, simply shows us the atrocities that happen, how they came to be, and how nothing is being done about them, making us question our own humanities.
In select theaters including the Angelika Dallas July 10th
