The torturous plight of undercover workers constitutes an increasingly stale sub-genre of its own. Cinema is littered with dramas depicted police offices or special agents burrowing deep behind enemy lines to gain and then betray the trust of unconscionable criminals, all the while surrendering their domestic lives to the dogs as an inevitable payoff. Thankfully, Brad Furman’s The Infiltrator proves to be a cut above the competition in this crowded field. Adapted from former Customs agent Robert Mazur’s book about his 80’s exploits posing as a businessman attempting to gain access to the top financiers a level below the infamous drug lord Pablo Escobar, Furman’s film is stacked with credible layers whilst boasting a slick, high-gloss aesthetic, an economical screenplay – by partner Ellen Brown Furman – and a brilliantly chosen cast led by the imposing Bryan Cranston as Mazur.
In the film’s opening sequence we get a glimpse of the agent at work, easily able to immerse and ingratiate himself into an inner circle of lowlifes. But when the war on drugs requires a radical escalation, Mazur is chosen by his superior Bonni Tischler (a bland, wasted Amy Ryan) to weasel his way into the outer circle of narcotics players. Assuming the alias Bob Musella, he reluctantly takes on fellow agent Emir Abreu (John Leguizamo) as his partner and co-conspirator in attempting to gain traction with the money men whilst climbing the step ladder to the vicinity of Escobar’s lair.
The film’s more generically captured family dynamics, namely the strain placed on Mazur’s marriage to Evelyn – wonderfully underplayed with an increasing apathy by Juliet Aubrey – tilt The Infiltrator into familiar territory but the film’s striking visual texture has a genuine magnetism about it. The crisp cinematography by Joshua Reis, who uses coloured lighting in a manner reminiscent of some of Steven Soderbergh’s best work, gives the film a richly enhanced visual exoticism whilst never betraying Furman’s credible re-creation of time and place.
The exceptional support players complement Cranston brilliantly, especially Benjamin Bratt as Escobar’s charismatic underling Roberto Alcaino who is utterly convinced by Mazur’s act. The two become very close and the genuine mutual respect shared by the pair has us almost dreading that the deferred moment of come-uppance will arrive with a strangely bittersweet charge. Most memorable of the criminal faction is Yul Vazquez’s hilariously eccentric Javier Espina who more than once rattles Mazur with his untoward attentions. The always entertaining Leguizamo tears it up as the mouthy, rabid dog Abreu whose alignment with the white hats is, nonetheless, never under scrutiny. Diane Kruger also makes a noteworthy contribution as the agent drafted to take part in the ruse as Musella’s fiancée, whose convincing role-playing becomes just as crucial to getting a result as Mazur’s dynamic wheeling and dealing.
With his latest film, Furman makes a lie of any notion of him being a one-hit wonder after his superb Michael Connelly adaptation The Lincoln Lawyer back in 2011. He most recently made the bland Runner Runner (2013) which went down that most hopeless of routes, trying to convince audiences that Justin Timberlake can strike a single credible chord as a dramatic actor. Though The Infiltrator looks great, it avoids being tainted by commercial-minded approach. Flawless cast aside, it has humour, grit, complexity and integrity and even when delving into familiar places, it manages to mostly put an entertaining and interesting spin on the material.