Pubdate: Thu, 05 Aug 2004 Source: Hour Magazine (CN QU) Copyright: 2004, Communications Voir Inc. Contact: http://www.hour.ca/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/971 Author: Melora Koepke MARIA FULL OF GRACE Heroin Chica Maria Full of Grace's director and star on America, Colombia and the cost of authenticity In the opening scene of Maria Full of Grace, Maria, a 17-year-old girl, is frenching her boyfriend Juan up against the side of a building in a poor Colombian neighbourhood. It's the kind of hungry, whole-mouth tongue kiss that you're supposed to really get into while you're doing it, and Juan is certainly up for it. "Let's go to your place," he whispers in Maria's ear, and kisses her neck. But Maria has her face turned upward, staring into the blue sky and up a ladder to the roof of the building she wants to climb. She has bigger, better things in mind. Soon after, Maria's bigger, better dreams find her on an illicit doctor's pallet in a Bogota slum as a shady drug lord carefully manipulates 67 meaty pellets of heroin cased in plastic into her digestive tract. She's headed on a plane to New York City. "Remember, if one of these pellets breaks, you die," she's reminded on more than one occasion. But for Maria, who has rebelliously quit her life as a flower-plantation drone and who is pregnant by Juan (whom she does not love), becoming a drug mule seems like the quickest, and only, way to a new life. In the film, told entirely from Maria's point of view, her plan makes sense. Maria Full of Grace is both like and unlike Traffic and other trenchant war-on-drugs blockbuster investigations that came before it. It is similar in the sense that we get a fully panoramic window into one, less familiar perspective on the drug war: someone in a desperate situation, for whom the stateside saleability of narcotics is her ticket to redemption. Different, because this is fully Maria's story. First-time writer-director Joshua Marston, a former social sciences student in California, was inspired to write the first draft of Maria after talking to an acquaintance that had swallowed drugs. "It was something I had only heard about in urban legends. But hearing the story firsthand, it seemed like a really compelling drama," he told Hour. Though Maria's tagline reads "Based on 1,000 true stories," Marston rigorously sticks to the protagonist's point of view, resisting the urge to generalize or politicize her situation more than Maria herself would. She sits on her flight, tries not to pass the pellets in the airplane bathroom, and escapes from a Queens hotel room after one of her co-mules ends up dead in the bathtub. This makes for gripping, tense cinema that's almost verite. "I discovered in the rewriting process that I was taking out all this background info I had gleaned about the drug war," he says. "I kept rewriting Maria and I wanted to stay true to her point of view, so I started taking out anything that I couldn't imagine her hearing, seeing and doing." Authenticity was an issue: The film, which is one of the first HBO-funded features to make it to theatrical release (last summer's American Splendor was another), is proclaimed to be an American-Colombian co-production. Though the money and the director are American, the entire cast and crew are from Colombia. For safety's sake, however, the film was shot in Ecuador. "The process of making this film was riddled with doubt and uncertainty and it was a harrowing process to construct this kind of narrative," Marston recalls. "There was a time I was thinking of forgoing the HBO financing because of not being able to shoot in Colombia [because of security reasons], and my family worried that I was just being stubborn and idiotic... I didn't want to waste my time and energy making something that I cringe to show, felt fake and untrue." So he didn't really interview 1,000 Colombian girls about their experiences as drug mules? "No," he says, laughing. "That's a marketing thing; the point they're trying to make is that this happens every day, and has happened to thousands of desperate Colombians. This wasn't a sociology project, though I did spend a lot of time down in Colombia talking to people, of course, and had visited the flower plants and the neighbourhoods to understand how people lived." The casting of Maria, the movie's heart and soul, was a giant undertaking: The filmmakers saw 800 girls, from actual flower-plantation workers to Colombian soap-opera starlets. Finally they had to push back production while they combed the country for possible Marias, until they finally found Catalina Sandino Moreno, a 23-year-old marketing student from Bogota. "I knew I had to do a good job, because it was my first movie and such an important one," Moreno told Hour. "I went to a flower plantation for two weeks and I came to understand that the job was pretty crazy and hard, you get fumigants in your eyes and skin and it's really hard work because you have to stand up all the time. I can understand why Maria was bored and miserable." Now, Moreno has won best actress awards at the Berlin and Seattle film festivals (and Maria won the audience award at Sundance). Like the pellets in her character's stomach, Moreno's star turn in the film has helped her to relocate to New York City. "The Americans treat me really well, so in a way I have no complaints," she says. "Politically speaking, this country and my country are not the best of friends... I hope that movies like this one can help the name of Colombia, and help Americans better understand what is happening in their own country." It seems, at this point, that the audience is indeed listening. In a summer that started with the explosive success of Michael Moore's trenchant call to American self-examination, Maria Full of Grace did more seats per screen in New York and L.A. than another film that opened the same weekend, Will Smith's I, Robot. Does Joshua Marston attribute Maria's early success to frivolity fatigue - or an awakening election anxiety - in the American multiplex? "I think as a function of the war in Iraq, the drug war at home is not the most salient issue at the moment; it's not the litmus test issue as Americans are going to the polls, let's say. The war on terror seems to have supplanted the focus on the war on drugs, but there are a lot of commonalities between the two," he says. "We have tried to [politicize] the film's release, we have reached out to various drug reform groups and invited them to screenings, and they have loved the film. It's been hard because Maria isn't overtly ideological and bombastic... but someone wrote a very nice letter to the editor [in the New York Times] that was really praising Maria, saying they hoped this movie could be the Fahrenheit 9/11 for the drug war. And that would be fine with me." - --- MAP posted-by: Keith Brilhart