DEPP'S DRUG SAGA ''BLOW'' STARTS ON A HIGH

Blow (Drama, color, R, 2:04)

SAN FRANCISCO (Variety) - Johnny Depp plays George Jung, a key player in
the 1970s cocaine-trafficking boom, in the fact-based drama ''Blow,'' the
most ambitious project to date from director-producer Ted Demme (''The
Ref,'' ''Life'').

Initially buoyant and flavorful, pic grows less distinctive as Jung's
rise-and-fall saga hits the downhill slope. Respectable but unmemorable end
result may suffer from comparison with the similarly themed, albeit
differently angled, ''Traffic,'' especially if latter gains a theatrical
second wind after the Oscars. However, relative paucity of hip prestige
items in the spring marketplace should help ''Blow'' achieve decent
middle-range returns in most territories.

While unquestionably a spectacular real-life story, the onscreen ''Blow''
(adapted from Bruce Porter's nonfiction tome) hazards direct comparison
with several prior fictive features, from Brian DePalma's ''Scarface''
remake to ''Boogie Nights'' and ''Casino.'' The last two are particularly
similar in narrative arc and retro-high-life atmosphere, and boasted much
more narrative-scale sweep (as well as sustained stylistic bravado) than
''Blow'' achieves.

Part of the blame may be laid on adherence to facts: Covering a roughly
two-decade span, pic's events too often seem overcompressed, with
psychological depth sacrificed. But direction and script (by David McKenna
and Nick Cassavetes) also shoulder some responsibility, as both prove much
more adept at engineering early reels' heady, lightly mocking air than
lending sufficient weight to protag's later free-fall.

Nonetheless, ''Blow's'' first half is quite impressive enough to satisfy
audience expectations raised by star and subject. After initial sequence
showing the now-zaftig, middle-aged Jung pulling one last cocaine megadeal
to the strains of the Rolling Stones' ''Can't You Hear Me Knocking,'' pic
rewinds to his late-'50s Boston-area childhood.

Mother Ermine (Rachel Griffiths) constantly harps on loving father Fred's
(Ray Liotta) erratic abilities as a breadwinner -- frequently walking out
on both husband and son in fits of materialistic pique.

Thus George's youthful move to sunny '68 Southern California, accompanied
by rotund best friend Tuna (Ethan Suplee), finds him an all-too-eager
convert to countercultural venture capitalism. Chicks, beachfront digs and
endless parties reward the duo for just a little free enterprise: Making
sure their ever-widening circle of friends remains well-supplied in primo
marijuana.

George soon broadens his market to Eastern home turf -- with a convenient
assist from girlfriend Barbara (''Run Lola Run's'' Franka Potente), who as
a stewardess can transport goods without being searched.

It all seems blissfully easy until George is arrested in 1972, carrying
some 660 pounds of pot. Meanwhile, Barbara dies from cancer. Given that
tragedy and George's prison stint, the happy-go-lucky partnership forged
with Tuna, fellow Bostonite Kevin (Max Perlich) and well-connected L.A.
hair stylist Derek (Paul Reubens) quietly dissolves.

Fate, however, throws George in the same cell as Diego Delgado (Jordi
Molla) and, after both are released, George takes up Diego's offer to
become the American conduit for notorious Colombian cocaine kingpin Pablo
Escobar (Cliff Curtis). Despite the heightened risk involved in
multinational smuggling, George flourishes for a while during the
coke/disco heyday and gains some insider cache via wedlock to high-born
bombshell Mirtha (Penelope Cruz). Yet her behavior soon echoes Ermine's,
even after she gives birth to a daughter. Life turns darker as his
Panamian-banked fortune is appropriated and escalating FBI heat brings
George closer and closer to permanent incarceration just when he's
desperately trying to focus on his child's need for parental stability.

This final half-hour features pic's most intimate and downbeat dramatics;
unfortunately, they coincide with its most pedestrian writing and direction
as well. There's a tactical error in making George's preadolescent daughter
(Emma Roberts) an only-in-movies fount of cliched grown-up wisdom and
doleful accusations.

But the bigger problem is that ''Blow's'' whirlwind progress hasn't laid
necessary groundwork for a family-values pitch, however much its loss may
haunt the real-life protag. (Postscript notes Jung won't finish his prison
stint until at least 2015, and has never been contacted by his only child.)
As the end approaches, each scene strikes a more heavy-handed, sentimental
note than the last. Reliably brilliant at fleshing out
borderline-cartoonish characters, Depp often grows vague in more
conventional protag roles. This one is no exception: While always
watchable, thesp's interp seems to be hiding its insights behind Jung's
ever-present tinted shades. The arrogance, recklessness or sheer ambition
that might help explain how this all-American boy waded into such deep
trouble are MIA.

Depp's meticulous aging makeup comes off as just that, while his series of
ultra-dated blond frightwigs are fun but wildly unconvincing. Nor can
disbelief be suspended re: George's parents (Liotta being just eight years'
Depp's elder, and Griffiths five his junior), though the actors make a
creditable effort.

As the father, Liotta comes closest to lending pic a center of emotional
gravity. Aussie Griffiths (sporting an immaculate Beantown accent) does all
she can with an aggressively shrill, shallow character; Cruz, who doesn't
appear until 70 minutes in, gets just one memorably berserk scene amid an
otherwise banal hottie-to-harpy arc.

Fellow Spanish star Molla, making his U.S. bow, is fine until Diego's
''Scarface''-like madness unleashes way too much inner jamon. Reubens (aka
Pee-wee Herman) at first makes gay Derek a grating flamboyant stereotype,
then reigns it in quite effectively. But all these plus several other
significant parts ultimately get short shrift from a script that's epic in
outline but thin in character involvement.

Production design pays close attention to the more vulgar nouveau riche
styles of the late 1960s through early '80s, providing considerable
incidental amusement. Demme amplifies that slant in certain segs, reviving
groovy cinematic gimmicks of yore (still photo montages, etc.) to witty
effect. In the same vein, Graeme Revell's sly original score mimics
swingin' lounge music cheese, while vintage rock hits (with special
emphasis on the Rolling Stones) are smartly deployed elsewhere.

Ellen Kuras' impressive widescreen lensing at times draws on the bold
ingenuity of her early indie work (''Swoon,'' ''Postcards From America,''
''Angela''). Mexican locations prove a convincing substitute in
Colombia-set scenes.

George Jung .......... Johnny Depp

Mirtha Jung .......... Penelope Cruz

Diego Delgado ........ Jordi Molla

Barbara Buckley ...... Franka Potente

Ermine Jung .......... Rachel Griffiths

Fred Jung ............ Ray Liotta

Tuna ................. Ethan Suplee

Derek Foreal ......... Paul Reubens

Kevin Dulli .......... Max Perlich

Pablo Escobar ........ Cliff Curtis

Augusto Oliveras ..... Miguel Sandovar

Leon Minghella ....... Kevin Gage

Young George ......... Jesse James

Alessandro ........... Miguel Perez

Cesar Toban .......... Dan Ferro

Sanchez .............. Tony Amendola

Mr. T ................ Bobcat Goldthwait

Dr. Bay .............. Michael Tucci

Maria ................ Monet Mazur

Rada ................. Lola Glaudini

Inez ................. Jennifer Gimenez

Young Kristina Jung .. Emma Roberts

Kristina Jung ........ James King

A New Line Cinema release of a Spanky Pictures/Apostle production. Produced
by Ted Demme, Joel Stillerman, Denis Leary. Executive producers, Georgia
Kacandes, Michael De Luca.

Directed by Ted Demme. Screenplay, David McKenna, Nick Cassavetes, based on
the book by Bruce Porter. Camera (FotoKem color, Deluxe prints; Panavision
widescreen), Ellen Kuras; editor, Kevin Tent; music, Graeme Revell; music
supervisor, Amanda Scheer Demme; production designer, Michael Hanan; art
directors, David Ensley, Bernardo Trujillo (Mexico); set designers, Maria
Baker, William Taliaferro; set decorators, Douglas A. Mowat, Melo Hinojosa
(Mexico); costume designer, Mark Bridges; sound (Dolby Digital), Allan
Byer; supervising sound editor, Mark P. Stoeckinger; associate producers,
Susan McNamara, Tracy Falco, Hillary Sherman; assistant director, Nicholas
C. Mastandrea; casting, Avy Kaufman. Reviewed at Variety Club Screening
Room, San Francisco, March 12, 2001. (In South by Southwest Film Festival.)

Reuters/Variety