After a convoluted fourth episode, Narcos thankfully gets back on track with a more tightly focused and grounded midway chapter. Its title, “There Will Be a Future,” reflects the dogged (and perhaps naive) optimism of Luis Carlos Galán, a presidential candidate who is rallying the masses in Columbia with his impassioned speeches about extraditing Escobar to the United States. Galán’s confidants fret about the risks that lie in opposing the drug lord so publicly, but the candidate remains undeterred. One of the most worried members of his inner circle is César Gaviria, the speechwriter who penned Galán’s galvanizing words, and when he voices those concerns while driving with the candidate in his motorcade, he bravely declares “there will be a future,” before stepping out of the car and into the crosshairs of a sniper, who kills him instantly.
Slaying Galán is enough of a power play for Escobar to convince his men that Colombia is safe enough to reside in, despite the threat of extradition looming over them. Before that, they had been sitting restlessly in Panama, a self-imposed exile to stave off arrest at the hands of the Americans, and a safe haven where they could wait until the dust had settled from the Siege on the Palace of Justice. Those lackeys grumble about Panama’s bad food, boredom and overall homesickness. One, named Fabio, even confronts the boss about tucking tail and running to Panama because the Columbian elite wouldn’t let him in their club. Escobar lets all of that slide, but when he and his wife, Tata, dine in a drab restaurant that’s been cleared for them, she forlornly asks, “What’s the point of having so much money if you can’t go home?” This moves Escobar enough to hatch the assassination on Galán and rally his men to head back, and while they still seem pensive on the flight home, at least their defiance and descent has been somewhat quelled. It’s funny that Tata’s wishes hold so much sway with Escobar, despite his ongoing affair with the Black Widow-ish reporter Valeria.
Speaking of Valeria, Escobar dispatches her and another lackey to proposition, and faintly threaten, Gaviria. But let’s backtrack a bit first: while at Galán’s funeral, the late candidate’s son delivers a eulogy that suddenly turns into an endorsement of Gaviria. The former speechwriter is terrified at the thought of stepping into his boss’ shoes, but feels obliged and does so. He has yet to follow in his mentor’s footsteps though, remaining unsure about whether to publicly back extradition for fear of being assassinated himself. But when Valeria delivers Escobar’s ominous message, Gaviria kicks her out, a moment that both fills him with dread and spurs him to take up Galán’s cause. It’s a tricky performance to pull off, one that would have prompted a lesser actor to succumb to clichés of pure nobility, but veteran Mexican actor Raúl Méndez gives Gaviria the duality he deserves, appearing (understandably) cowardly at the thought of partaking in such a dangerous election campaign, yet seeming even more terrified of what would happen to his country if he fails to stand up to the narcos.
It’s very refreshing to see Narcos spending more time with some of these supporting characters. The series has a tendency to introduce these fascinating historical figures—each of whom appears able to support a series or TV movie of their own—before promptly killing them off. Galán was possibly the most glaring example of this excruciatingly intriguing trend, leaving the audience wondering what might have been (which may be the desired effect, helping us viewers connect a bit to the carnage and broken potential of this volatile period in Columbia’s history). So it’s fantastic to see this tendency reverse in episode five, as we become better acquainted with Gaviria.
In fact, the only notable scene centering on our protagonists in “There Will Be a Future,” comes when Murphy voices his concerns about harboring Elisa, the M-19 communist radical, as an informant in his home, ergo putting his wife in harm’s way. He also confronts Peña about his relationship with her, which he suavely downplays.
Aside from those brief moments with our hero, much of “There Will Be a Future,” is devoted to Gaviria and another equally strong supporting player—Col. Horacio Carrillo, played by burgeoning Cuban-American character actor Maurice Compte (known best as Gaff from Breaking Bad, along with guest spots on 24, CSI, Criminal Minds, and bit parts in films like A Walk Among the Tombstones and End of Watch). Compte perfectly evokes the character’s military background with his rigid posture and clipped cadence, a strong showing as this episode calls on him to do more than sit on the sidelines for the first time. In fact, he shows more bravery and tenacity than our leads in “There Will Be a Future,” as he taps Escobar’s phone lines and begins gathering copious amounts of evidence. However, there’s not much he can do with those findings because he can’t trust his men to not be bought off by the kingpin. That frustration finally prompts him to call Escobar himself, threatening the cartel lord and his family. It’s a brazen move conveyed convincingly by Compte’s sturdy performance, which is outshined by the ever dominant Wagner Moura, who vows to kill Carrillo’s family in return, sneering about his new enemy’s “mama” with a deadly purr, like a cheshire cat from hell.
Still, there’s really no one on the series who can go toe to toe with Moura’s astounding performance, in the same way that Escobar dominated Columbia’s criminal and political landscape. The supporting players still shine in their given moments on this episode though. And there’s one more fantastic example of that in “There Will Be a Future’s,” final scenes, as the paunchy, feisty henchman José Rodríguez Gacha (Guzmán) buys a bazooka in preparation for the coming war with the Narcos.
And while that scene with Gacha toting heavy artillery was a departure from episode five’s otherwise subtle, character and dialogue-driven plot, the subsequent chapter ratchets up the action enough for at least a handful of episodes. Fittingly titled “Explosivos,” this segment climaxes with a war zone style, machine gun laden battle between Gacha and Carrillo. It’s a thrilling finale to a tension-rife episode that is one of the series’ very best so far.
Before Carrillo confronts Gacha, the episode opens with another grisly confrontation—a shot of roundabout street set against Columbia’s Jenga block-esque architecture. A car circles around that street and is stopped by police officers. The driver turns out to be Poison, Escobar’s most perfectly nicknamed henchman, who doesn’t show the officers his liscence, but instead his Uzi, mowing them down. Smoke trails from the weapon’s magazine, giving the scene a brutal realism. The officers are clearly dead, but Poison makes a point of getting out and casually pumping more lead into them, swaying his weapon as if it were a garden hose and he were watering a dry lawn. It’s positively chilling, thanks to the seamless teaming of perfect camerawork, props, and the actors’ un-showy performances.
From there, Escobar’s phone rings with a report about Poison’s itchy trigger finger. Before he get the call though, he gently scolds his son about kicking a soccer ball near where his little sister is sleeping. The jealous elder brother tells his Dad that he wants his sister to die, and Escobar firmly tells him to “Never say that.” But what’s truly shocking about this moment is Escobar’s lack of rage. Instead he shows his son concerned compassion, as if he recognizes the boy’s selfish, unbridled id as his own. It’s another example of the little, but highly unexpected twists this brilliant series can take. And that finely written moment is surprisingly usurped by a henchman’s call about Poison’s killing of the officers. Pablo asks about the rank of the victims, then marks it in his ledger as if it were an everyday item in an inventory. Escobar’s son is in earshot this whole time, and when he asks his father what he was talking about, the narco answers that “It’s just business.” When the boy professes his desire to be a businessman just like his dad, Escobar draws him near and holds him tightly, and his guilt, heartache and worry is etched deeply in his face. It’s difficult to express just how fantastic Moura is in this role, but anyone else who watches this scene will understand fully.
All of this transpires before episode six’s opening credits. It’s another densely plotted chapter, but unlike episode four, this chapter’s numerous details never grow abundant enough to bog down the plot. The next scene involves another deft use of archival footage, as we learn what Escobar was jotting in his ledger and why Poison killed those cops: the kingpin had set up a bounty system for slaying policemen. The vintage documentary clips incorporated into this scene show, without any reservation, those officers who were slain in real life, gaping head wounds and all. It’s jarring, and it escalates the suspense for what’s to come.