Mobster movies; they come in a variety of flavors. From classic Italian mafia, to Yakuza, to the Hong Kong heroic-blood shed genre, the inspiration for these films is seemingly as limitless as the actual presence of real life organized crime. In sitting down to write this review, I had to stop and ask myself: “What makes a mobster film, an mobster film?” Is the criteria merely one of the protagonists having to be involved in organized crime? Are they the same as heist films? Are they really that different from noir? If anything, American Sicario may have finally given me the answers I needed.
American Sicario, (absolutely no connection to the 2015 Sicario) directed by first timer RJ Collins, is pretty much literally sums up what it’s about in the title: A white, American man Erik Vasquez (Phillip A. Haddad) who also happens to be a Sicario (a Spanish term for “hired killer”). Erik Vasquez is doing pretty good for himself as a cartel in Mexico, despite his “foreign” origins. He’s making tons of money, has a beautiful passionate wife (who is pregnant with his child), a loyal crew, and the fear of his enemies. But, it seems even this won’t be enough to quench his thirst for more money, power, and reputation as the baddest gangster. When an ambitious drug deal goes south, he soon discovers the risks of ambition.
Yup, quite typical gangster film plot. But hey, even the most overdone plots can be brilliant if executed well and with an an original flare, right? Well, I hate to say it, but American Gangster doesn’t exactly have that going on for it either. Unfortunately, there was no point in the film that I felt like I saw anything new. Confession of someone with a weirdo mind: the first half of this movie, I had to keep myself entertained by imagining this as a sitcom, as Erik the main character really looks like a stereotypical sitcom dad. It oddly worked, as I imagined laugh tracks between him bantering with his sassy wife, trying to please her former gagster dad (played by the legendary Danny Trejo), dealing with the wacky hijinks of his lovable underlings, and hoping to impress his superiors. I would legit watch and greatly enjoy the “American Sicario” sitcom I created in my head as I sat through this!
Sadly, the second half didn’t leave me much room to imagine it as a sitcom anymore, as it divulged in the normal Macbeth tragic downfall. I would in fact describe this as “Macbeth marketed to the Fast and Furious crowd.” And that may be why this movie didn’t exactly work for me. The writing, while not absolutely egregious, spells out everything a little too much. While I appreciate call backs to previous lines and plot points, this movie lacks any subtly in the way it went about it. Every other line seemed to exist to remind me that “Family is the most important thing!” or “Over ambition will be your downfall!”
Really, not much about this movie was really bad, per se. It just lacked anything that made it good. But at least it gave me one “eureka” moment. The one thing that connects all mobster films together they are the pure embodiment of mania. Mobster films create a mood of brief joy, heightened energy, and inflated self-esteem. Ok, I realize these are the side effects of all the coke they always show them doing, but it still thematically stays the same. Coke or not, all main protagonists in these movies seem to be in the same manic state, only being stopped by their inevitable tragic downfall. (Could it be said that all noir films are categorized by depression? I’ll have to explore that more another time.)
Sad to say, I didn’t love American Sicario. It was just a little too hallow, basic, and lacking in subtly to leave much of an impression. And if I have to pretend that something is a different genre to get more entertainment for myself the first time I watch it, it’s not a good sign. But hey, at least it still made me sit down and think about what I like about mobster films, and that’s worth something, right?
