Narcos: “The Men of Always”/”The Palace in Flames”
(Episode 1.03 and 1.04)

The exposition could have grown as thick as gun smoke in “The Men of Always,” Narcos’ third episode. Thankfully all that abundant billowing plot didn’t become too hazy or disorienting, due to the use of archival new footage and the deft narration of DEA agent Steve Murphy (Boyd Holbrook). While those voiceovers were frequently clunky in the premiere, they have become an essential tool to move this series’ plot forward, and the fact that the screenwriters have given Holbrook better lines (and fewer clichés) certainly helps. With a “just the facts, m’am,” demeanor, Hollbrook describes one of his characters’ fellow DEA agents, who was brutally murdered with a drill to the head by traffickers while working an investigation in Columbia. That voiceover is expertly synched with the news footage of the slain expat’s body, and gives the audience a sharp and horrific reminder that the gruesome events depicted in this prestige drama actually occurred. As Hollbrook goes on to detail how the DEA retaliated fiercely, the audience quickly realizes why his character’s cat was killed by the drug runners in the final moments of the preceding episode, “The Sword of Simón Bolivar.” We now know that Columbia’s kingpins fear the DEA enough to avoid killing another agent, which makes Hollbrook’s character safe, for now. Too bad the same can’t be said for his cat, whose death became a clear message from the dealers.
As Murphy and his new partner Javier Peña (Pedro Pascal) move to investigate the feline’s death and— much more importantly— which specific dealer was bold enough to send the DEA this gruesome message, the episode transitions to a scene that is far stranger, but nonetheless grisly. Murphy and Peña’s looming nemesis, cartel king Pablo Escobar (Wagner Moura), has tied up and blindfolded the reporter who helped enthral the public in his Robin Hood style myth. What ensues isn’t so much torture as sadomasochism, as Escobar threatens, then sexually stimulates the bound journalist with his pistol, because her reporting has drawn too much attention. The scene evokes a similar moment of pistol/phallus innuendo from The Man With the Golden Gun— the cheesiest of James Bond movies, in which a Bond girl caresses the the titular golden weapon— and it’s a testament to Moura’s mesmerizing acting that the scene’s menacing ambiance doesn’t devolve into such silliness.
The plot then swerves back to a scene (with far better writing) between Murphy and his wife, Connie, who refuses to obey her husband’s demands that she cower and stay safe after their cat’s death. In fact, she insists on continuing to volunteer at the nearby clinic, and it’s refreshing to see a lead female character in a prestige drama come across as assertive without sounding shrewish (an issue that even recent classics like Breaking Bad have struggled with). This leads to a subtly effective plot twist— one of Connie Murphy’s fellow nurses is Elisa (played with great intensity by Ana de la Reguera), one of the M-19 communist radicals who attempted, and failed, to topple Escobar in the previous episode.
Again, we circle back to Escobar, who proves to be as good a public speaker as he is a crime lord, as he attempts to entice a new clientele— the electorate. With help from the pistol mesmerized reporter, Escobar makes his first foray into the political arena, feigning innocence and nobility (while maintaining his multi-billion dollar drug dealing operation out of the limelight). He brings his Robin Hood myth to new heights with promises to “fight for the poor, educate those who want to learn, and help those with dreams find no limit to what they can achieve,” as he endorses a candidate named Jairo Ortega. But Escobar’s heartening speech wasn’t a mere sign of support for Ortega— instead, the drug lord has bought the politician off, and plans to clinch his Congressional seat after he is elected and, conveniently, resigns.
There’s a brief interlude in Escobar’s political ascent, focusing back on Murphy and Peña’s investigation, which finally proves fruitful as they uncover a crucial piece of evidence. Meanwhile, Escobar’s plan appears to be working perfectly, and he arrives at Congress to take his newly acquired seat. He encounters his first hitch upon entry, when a staffer tells the underdressed kingpin that a tie is necessary for entry. Escobar gratefully borrows the young man’s tie and steps inside, and the scene is intercut with a wide angled shot of him stoned while standing in a Colombian jungle grove, his eyes wide as he fantasizes about reaching that political pinnacle and finally breaking in to his country’s tightly knit elite. But alas, that satisfaction proves to be presumptuous. During the Congressional meeting Rodrigo Lara, the righteous minister of justice,who has partnered with Murphy and Peña, presents the detectives’ evidence to his fellow officials: a blown up copy of Escobar’s mugshot from a prior arrest, which completely undermines his claims at legitimacy in both the press and the Congressional hall.
Again, Moura plays the scene perfectly, inhabiting furious poignancy as he unknots his tie and agrees to leave, before vowing to not go quietly. The intensity of Moura’s expression matches that of the next action packed scene— in which one of Escobar’s henchmen speeds by Lara’s car on a motorcycle and slays one of Colombia’s few honest politicians.
The next episode, aptly titled “The Palace in Flames,” quickly picks up after Lara’s death. Murphy feels guilty about pushing the justice minister to confront Escobar. This escalates the cat and mouse game between the DEA agent and the underlord, and leads to the one consequence that Escobar fears—the threat of being extradited to an American jail for his ongoing trafficking, as opposed to Columbian incarceration, where he would have access to drugs and call girls.