'The Two Escobars:' An Important, Educational and Highly Recommended Film

This week I am feeling moved by getting the chance to more profoundly and concretely understand Colombian society. This was made possible by watching The Two Escobars, a 2010 documentary by Jeff and Michael Zimbalist. The movie traces the fascinating but bizarre story of the intertwined fates of Andrés Escobar, probably the most adored defender in the history of Colombian national soccer, and the other Escobar--the supremely controversial Pablo himself. The film vividly elaborates the national soccer team's ascendancy to the 1994 World Cup, a period during which Colombia was at both a moment of fútbol-fueled national jubilation and a national security crisis. By the end of this movie, viewers should understand why that period was a tipping point in Colombia's modern era, relevant for the globe through today...

More information on The Two Escobars can also be found here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1522863/

Watching this film has made me again consider the multiple, confusing layers of Colombians' quest for security and a better livelihood. It has helped elucidate why so many foreigners rely on misconceptions about the state of Colombia today, why it is easy for foreigners to assume that Colombians act strange all the time, and why many foreigners have had a hard time getting along in this country for extended periods. It has caused me to think about the extraordinary difficulty--and promise--of the country's evolution toward development, stability, and eventual prosperity. It helps explain why outgoing president Álvaro Uribe's initiatives to consolidate national unity and pride have been so influential. And because the movie's primary setting is Medellín, all of these reflections are utterly relevant for me right now. For about the thousandth time during my Colombian experience, I am realizing the immense value of life. This is a movie that helps make it clear why an apparent culture of fear, mistrust, insecurity, vanity, and classism so seem to pervade Colombian society--at least at first glance. But in turn, it only makes that much clearer why many Colombians also share such an intense enthusiasm for life. It illuminates why the people of this country have collectively rejoiced to know that their country is steadily recovering from decades of violence, disorder, and uncertainty. Knowing just how bad things could be makes each good day that much better. Colombian or not, this is a universal lesson all of us can take away and apply in order to be more content human beings.

So the joint slogan of the Ministry of Culture and several other government offices is true: Colombia es pasión. Maybe what this slogan, intended to spur new tourism and foreign investment, really means is that Colombia is a country of extremes, even those hard to conceptualize. I guess that is true in the hard times as well as in the prosperous ones. The lesson speaks with respect to the very worst of things this country has to offer, as well as to the very best.

Undoubtedly, I will cherish that much more pride and meaning each time I sport my Colombia fútbol jersey from now on. But this is not just a film for fans of soccer, not just a film for security hawks, DEA officials, or development wonks, but a film with immense power to explain the paradoxes of how the world turns. Everyone, please make an effort to watch this film. If you have any interest in the global politics of soccer, international business, the cocaine trade, crime and security, Latin American culture, or just want to understand the deep dichotomy of privilege and poverty that affects EVERYONE in the Americas, this is a must-see. Thank you and amen.