This is a highly original take on the familiar theme of Family and Drug Cartels.
By going back to the early years of the drug trade between Latin American countries and the USA, Gallego is able to explore the grey areas between family traditions and capitalist business. As in real life, it is the latter that wins out, and by the end we could be watching any given episode of Narcos.
The rule of business and violence is reflected in the changes of dress, homes and language. However, the older spirits are never completely banished, as can be seen in the quietly constant presence of significant birds.
The prevailing message of the film is that we never learn and that cycles of revenge and greed produce a bitter nihilism.
I admired the world more than I felt for the people in it, which is a slightly awkward place to land with Birds of Passage. It looks terrific: desert light, bold colours, costumes, rituals, family rules — all of it feels specific and lived-in, not just bog-standard narco wallpaper.
The cast are strong too, mostly because nobody overplays it. A look, a pause, a shift in posture does half the talking. Very sensible. Saves everyone from chewing the scenery like it’s made of polystyrene.
But emotionally, it kept me at arm’s length. The Wayúu customs give the story its shape and rhythm, yet the characters sometimes feel more like doomed pieces being moved around a very beautiful board.
The drugs start the trouble, but cash does the real damage: buying status, bending loyalty, and turning belief into business.
Beautiful, sombre, and properly made — just sharper as a warning than as a gut-punch.
An unusual film about an indigenous Indian tribe in Columbia who continue to believe in ancient spirits and customs while exploiting, and hugely profiting from, the international demand for illicit drugs. Brilliantly acted by all and beautifully filmed but quite violent and lawless, with corrupt police and no rule of law, even though set in the 1970s.