'You know what's the best thing about Miami? It's just so close to the United States of America!' This little known adage helps explain why this city, and this documentary has such a unique story to tell. Why, as the Former Crime Reporter, Miami Herald Edna Buchanana put it so geographically: 'you get washed up in Miami as there's no further to fall'. In Cocaine Cowboys, we have a treasured documentary that tells that story; why. Arguably, (and this is a first time reviewer putting his neck out) it can place a claim as one of the greatest documentaries of all time.
Let me shape that argument forward in three steps.
First, there's the intimacy of the storytelling. Today's internet can scale just about anything, but it can't scale intimacy. The documentary, which dates back to 2006 when YouTube was finding its feet, unfolds with the first-hand experiences and anecdotes of former traffickers Jon Roberts and Micky Munday. Got lucky! They not only give explicitly clear and remarkably relaxed accounts of what went down in Miami during the crazy late 70's and early 80's, but they do so with intimacy - using the tone and terminology of a fireside chat that draws you (back) into the madness of the time.
When Jon Roberts says 'let me explain this in a language that Americans would understand' - he's generously taking the time out to translate the ruthless culture of the Cubans and Colombians who were populating Miami at the time for us, watching from the safety of our sofas. He didn't need to, after all he spent the best part of a decade in jail, but he's a naturally gifted storyteller and wants the viewer to immerse themselves in the cultural melting pot that was boiling over. Micky Munday matches him for intimacy, explaining what it meant to buy an aircraft for close to $1m dollars in cash in 1981. Rather than do the inflation calculator trick (which results in $3m in cash today btw), he simply pulls a wry smile and asks us to 'imagine doing that today'. You needn't do the math; it was too wild back then to even bother.
Second, there's a saying that goes 'the jockey is only as good as the horse' - and director (or jockey) Billy Corben doesn't just get lucky with the storytellers, but the story itself is leaves your jaw on the floor. Cocaine Cowboys makes Narcos, Scarface and Miami Vice look tame. Especially when you 'follow the money' that was flowing through the city. To learn that the Federal Reserve Bank of Miami had a cash surplus greater than the rest of the United States reserve banks combined underlines how out of control the reality was. In a scene that lasts less than six seconds, the owner of one of Miami's cocaine banks is posed a question as to why, in a normal year, he would deposit $12m with the federal reserve yet records show that over $600m had been shelved. His response, in a mafia-esque Latino accent and a deadpan expression is to throw the question back: "are you implying that this bank does something wrong?"
Third, the cast of characters - Edna Buchana, Sam Burstryn, Raul Diaz - become unforgettable as the stories they tell are unfathomable. Like the drug itself, director Corben takes you on a high, and prepares you for the comedown as order is restored in the mid 80's - the irony being Miami Vice took off just as the crime got under control. On that note, hat tip to Jan Hammer - he of Miami Vice theme tune fame - for providing a soundtrack. It might not be your musical choice, but it couldn't be anyone else. It's those small nuggets scattered across the two hour documentary which can easily be missed on first viewing: heavy rotation is essential.
Imperfections, we got 'em. The fast paced editing, perhaps too choppy for some viewers, is not a crowd pleaser because it's cut in a way that the Director feels right - this is the Cocaine Cowboys era of Miami after all, not a retirement home like it was before, or as it has become since. Simply accessing this documentary ain't easy either. As with all of Billy Corben's impressive work, it's hard to find the original Cocaine Cowboys outside of the US. Also its legacy gets blurred as it's not clear what the purpose of the three hour reprise, titled Cocaine Cowboys Reloaded, was. (Note: If I had the chance to mash up them both, I'd edit down the interview Jorge 'Rivi' Ayala from the original and add back the Barry Seal footage from Reloaded). To make matters more confusing, Corben's reloaded another Cocaine Cowboys onto Netflix in recent months.
Here's the deal in 2021. Netflix is on a Narcotics 'tear' right now with countless dramas and documentaries hitting our recommendations. None come close, just trust me on that. Cocaine Cowboys is the original. It's the best. What's more, it is punk - it doesn't play to the crowd but asks the crowd to lean in and pay attention to what actually happened. It teaches you why Miami was so close to the United States. It had its own rules, and so does Corben's directorial style. It's a masterpiece and it deserves a perfect ten.
Let me shape that argument forward in three steps.
First, there's the intimacy of the storytelling. Today's internet can scale just about anything, but it can't scale intimacy. The documentary, which dates back to 2006 when YouTube was finding its feet, unfolds with the first-hand experiences and anecdotes of former traffickers Jon Roberts and Micky Munday. Got lucky! They not only give explicitly clear and remarkably relaxed accounts of what went down in Miami during the crazy late 70's and early 80's, but they do so with intimacy - using the tone and terminology of a fireside chat that draws you (back) into the madness of the time.
When Jon Roberts says 'let me explain this in a language that Americans would understand' - he's generously taking the time out to translate the ruthless culture of the Cubans and Colombians who were populating Miami at the time for us, watching from the safety of our sofas. He didn't need to, after all he spent the best part of a decade in jail, but he's a naturally gifted storyteller and wants the viewer to immerse themselves in the cultural melting pot that was boiling over. Micky Munday matches him for intimacy, explaining what it meant to buy an aircraft for close to $1m dollars in cash in 1981. Rather than do the inflation calculator trick (which results in $3m in cash today btw), he simply pulls a wry smile and asks us to 'imagine doing that today'. You needn't do the math; it was too wild back then to even bother.
Second, there's a saying that goes 'the jockey is only as good as the horse' - and director (or jockey) Billy Corben doesn't just get lucky with the storytellers, but the story itself is leaves your jaw on the floor. Cocaine Cowboys makes Narcos, Scarface and Miami Vice look tame. Especially when you 'follow the money' that was flowing through the city. To learn that the Federal Reserve Bank of Miami had a cash surplus greater than the rest of the United States reserve banks combined underlines how out of control the reality was. In a scene that lasts less than six seconds, the owner of one of Miami's cocaine banks is posed a question as to why, in a normal year, he would deposit $12m with the federal reserve yet records show that over $600m had been shelved. His response, in a mafia-esque Latino accent and a deadpan expression is to throw the question back: "are you implying that this bank does something wrong?"
Third, the cast of characters - Edna Buchana, Sam Burstryn, Raul Diaz - become unforgettable as the stories they tell are unfathomable. Like the drug itself, director Corben takes you on a high, and prepares you for the comedown as order is restored in the mid 80's - the irony being Miami Vice took off just as the crime got under control. On that note, hat tip to Jan Hammer - he of Miami Vice theme tune fame - for providing a soundtrack. It might not be your musical choice, but it couldn't be anyone else. It's those small nuggets scattered across the two hour documentary which can easily be missed on first viewing: heavy rotation is essential.
Imperfections, we got 'em. The fast paced editing, perhaps too choppy for some viewers, is not a crowd pleaser because it's cut in a way that the Director feels right - this is the Cocaine Cowboys era of Miami after all, not a retirement home like it was before, or as it has become since. Simply accessing this documentary ain't easy either. As with all of Billy Corben's impressive work, it's hard to find the original Cocaine Cowboys outside of the US. Also its legacy gets blurred as it's not clear what the purpose of the three hour reprise, titled Cocaine Cowboys Reloaded, was. (Note: If I had the chance to mash up them both, I'd edit down the interview Jorge 'Rivi' Ayala from the original and add back the Barry Seal footage from Reloaded). To make matters more confusing, Corben's reloaded another Cocaine Cowboys onto Netflix in recent months.
Here's the deal in 2021. Netflix is on a Narcotics 'tear' right now with countless dramas and documentaries hitting our recommendations. None come close, just trust me on that. Cocaine Cowboys is the original. It's the best. What's more, it is punk - it doesn't play to the crowd but asks the crowd to lean in and pay attention to what actually happened. It teaches you why Miami was so close to the United States. It had its own rules, and so does Corben's directorial style. It's a masterpiece and it deserves a perfect ten.