Griselda (M) TV six-episode mini-series. Streaming on Netflix. In Spanish with subtitles, or English dubbed.
Written and created by Carlo Bernard, Ingrid Escajada and Doug Mirov
Griselda is a gripping, based-on-fact story of a completely driven female drug lord, with five of its six episodes coming to a thrillingclimax, the sixth ending as it must, more calmly.
Pablo Escobar is quoted at the beginning: “The only man I was ever afraid of was a woman named Griselda Blanco.”
How can a dramedy be so good to look at, while being so shockingly black?
It ranks with Breaking Bad and Ozark for strong plot and a normalising approach to horrific brutality, but its tone is different from theirs, with superior cinematography, editing, music, dialogue and atmosphere.
Two of Griselda’s creators, Carlo Bernard and Doug Miro, who honed their skills on Narcos (2015-2021), based on Escobar, have teamed up with Ingrid Escajada to show Griselda’s two sides: loving mother and law-defying business strategist.
Dubbed the Godmother, Griselda (Sofía Vergara) held Miami in the palm of her hand, importing and dealing cocaine for more than a decade from the mid-70s, getting around all the doubting macho dealers out to obstruct her, often resorting to hired assassins, notably Dario (Alberto Guerra).
In the opening episode, dispossessed Griselda flees a deadly situation in Colombia with her three sons, arriving in Miami where a friend, Carmen (Paulina Dávila), who has also fled a drug lord husband, takes the family in and tries unsuccessfully to persuade Griselda to leave cartel life behind.
Instead, Griselda focuses on building her own.
Murder and mayhem ensue as Griselda hides in plain sight behind an army of former co-workers, Colombian sex workers who arrive in Miami by the planeload, their bras stuffed full of cocaine, shepherded by ever-loyal Arturo (Christian Tappan).
Sofía Vergara laughingly told the Graham Norton Show recently that she was ready for a new challenge after sitcom Modern Family and had enjoyed preparing for her vastly different role by learning to snort cocaine and wearing a plastic shield over her eyebrows and forehead to hide her own non-70s eyebrows.
There’s only one person who suspects Griselda of all the murders: a Latina police officer, June Hawkins (Juliana Aidén Martinez), also an underdog, victimised like Griselda by men who don’t believe she can do the job.
Like Griselda, she overcomes 70s misogyny and sexism; unlike her, she’s morally upright. June’s work is a crusade.
There’s a powerful concept underpinning and driving the story; that inside the monster that was Griselda Blanco was a woman on a mission, a version of Walter White or Wendy and Marty Byrde but an outsider wanting in, not an established person wanting out.
Griselda is terrifically well paced, with racy dialogue best heard in Spanish with English subtitles, a wonderful soundtrack, perfect 70s costumes, cars and sets, plus outstandingly stylish acting.
Doing a reprehensible job, speaking the language of the most immoral of men, Griselda as played by Sofía Vergara manages to win audience sympathy. Some feat.
