One group of murderers kills another group of murderers. We like one group-- the others are darkskinned and wear mustaches.
Plenty of crowd scenes in airports & bars with the same longlegged girls prancing in hot pants; and of course the helicopter pilot is a drunk.
But men bond, effusing that good male love. A likeable sidekick dies. So many things to watch, so many things to consider-- the images flow together like the rapids of an Andean river into decanters of colored water, like the murderous smile of a Cali whore reflected in the hero's Ray-Bans.
The ending ends like all endings: bullets richochet like sparklers thrown into the air at carnival-- the hero scowls and hardbodies fall into an abyss. The good self devours the ill and the only justice is poetic.
copyright 2001 Phoebe Claire Publishing, LLC All rights reserved