'Cartel Land' offers conflict without much context
<b>Mini-review: 'Cartel Land'</b>
Matthew Heineman opens his rough and tough documentary "Cartel Land" with the funerals of many family members killed because their employer didn't pay enough extortion money to Mexico's drug lords.
The cartel soldiers executed the adults. They took babies by their feet and smashed their heads on rocks. A woman later recounts how the cartel soldiers used a blowtorch on her husband before he died.
Heineman wants us to know upfront exactly what the drug lords do in Mexico so that when he introduces the protagonists of his story - organized vigilantes - we sidestep our immediate, negative American reaction and filter our view through the eyes of the fearful local citizens desperate for help.
The most impressive aspect of "Cartel Land" is the trust and access Heineman's crew obtained to the two central figures of his report.
In America, low-key veteran Tim "Nailer" Foley heads the Arizona Border Recon, a bunch of armed guys self-appointed to stop immigration from Mexico and stem the influence of cartels in America.
In Mexico, Jose Manuel Mireles heads the Autodefensas, a citizens' paramilitary group dedicated to stopping the cartel violence. We later discover Mireles is actually a respected, married surgeon, a family man with a media star's ego and an eye (plus other body parts) for the ladies.
Parts of "Cartel Land" make us shudder in fear for the camera crew, subjected to frequent gunfire and the company of armed, disgruntled characters. For their efforts, the crew delivers incredibly polished production values, excellent sound (does everybody in Mexico wear a body mic?) and real scares.
What Heineman lacks is a perspective on his subject matter, presented straight without much context or point of view. But then, do we really need that when the Mexican citizens accuse the heroic Autodefensas of becoming as brutal and oppressive as the drug lords?
"Cartel Land" opens at Chicago's Music Box Theatre. Rated R for drug use, language, sexual situations, violence. 98 minutes. ★ ★ ★ ½
Dann Gire's Reel Life column appears Fridays in Time out!