The Infiltrator

Based on true events, The Infiltrator follows U.S. Customs officer Robert Mazur (Bryan Cranston) as he goes undercover to expose Pablo Escobar’s money-laundering operations. Filmmaker Brad Furman, working from Ellen Sue Brown’s screenplay, displays little interest in drawing the viewer into the movie’s often impenetrable storyline, with the overly complicated and mostly context-free narrative compounded by an assortment of poorly-drawn characters – starting with Cranston’s paper-thin protagonist (ie what’s driving Mazur forward? why is he putting his family at risk? etc, etc). There’s little doubt, too, that Furman’s efforts at livening up the proceedings by employing a Scorsese-like aesthetic fall flat, as such larger-than-life visual antics, which are certainly not warranted by the material, lend the proceedings a palpably desperate feel (ie it’s as though Furman is trying his hardest to transform the picture into something it simply isn’t). The hands-off atmosphere is perpetuated by an overlong running time and often disastrously deliberate pace, and it’s perhaps not surprising to note that the film grows more and more tedious as it slowly progresses – with the late-in-the-game (and thoroughly pointless) emphasis on Mazur’s fake friendship with one of Escobar’s top men (Benjamin Bratt’s Roberto Alcaino) contributing heavily to the aggressively uninvolving vibe. By the time the seriously anticlimactic finale rolls around, The Infiltrator has squandered its strong cast and promising real-life setup to become one of the more overtly misguided endeavors to emerge in quite some time.

*1/2 out of ****