Cocaine Cowboys: Visualizing Aging Masculinities in Galician Narco Noir

Abstract

Arguably the most recognizable figure of Galician manhood on screen today is the aging drug kingpin, as the burgeoning cinematic genre of Galician narco noir exposes global audiences to Galicia’s key role as a gateway for the steady flow of cocaine into Europe. This article engages with current debates in aging, masculinities and disability studies to examine the depiction of the elderly male drug lords in two recent works pertaining to the Galician narco noir genre; Nemo Bandeira, protagonist of the series Vivir sin permiso (2018–2020), based on a short story by Manuel Rivas, and Antonio Padín from the film Quien a hierro mata (2019), a Galician-Spanish co-production directed by Paco Plaza. It is argued that the intersection of aging masculinities with illness and disability in the representation of older drug lords perpetuates but also renegotiates preconceptions about Galician manhood, reflecting broader issues relating to the representation and commodification of gender, age, illness, disability, and power in popular culture. In the context of the stereotypically “masculine” sphere of organized crime, analysis of how the older male demographic is represented in noir brings insight into the construction of Galician identities on screen more generally, signaling to perceptions of the wider societal impact of crime, corruption, and impunity in Galician society.

Keywords:

• Aging masculinities
• disability
• Galician
• drug trafficking
• narco noir

Notes

1 I borrow the term “narco noir” from Erica Segre’s 2019 volume on the Mexican context, considering it apt to describe the sub-genre of the English-language coinage Galician noir (Barbour; Huete; Webster Ayuso) that centres on drug trafficking. In Galician cinema studies, terminology includes narco-fictions, narco-narrative (Espiña Barros) and narcoseries (Alzate Giraldo, Cardona Cano and Díaz Arenas).

2 Vivir sin permiso is in fact set in a town called Oeste (literally meaning ‘west’).

3 The narrative of Fariña casts a spotlight on real life drug barons, Laureano Oubiña and the late Manuel Charlín, who was arrested at the age of 85 (Romero), showcasing their formidable power followed by their downfall upon entrapment in the web of Operación Nécora, which resulted in mass arrests in 1991 under judge Baltazar Garzón. A key factor that undoubtedly contributed to the unprecedented success of the book and television series Fariña relates to its claims about now aging drug traffickers who operated seemingly with impunity for decades in post-Francoist Galicia, directing large-scale trafficking networks that reached to diverse corners of the globe. The book was briefly banned for libel on 14 February 2013 at the behest of the former mayor of the coastal municipality O Grove. Convicted drug trafficker Laureano Oubiña denounced a scene in the opening credits of the series in which he is depicted having sexual relations with his now deceased wife, claiming this frank portrayal of aging sexuality “damaged his honour” (Nós Diario).

4 Of course, there are notable exceptions to this such as O sabor das margaridas (2018–20), the first work in Galician purchased by Netflix which in a significant feat reached the top ten foreign-language shows streamed in Ireland and the UK shortly after its release (Barbour; Huete; Webster Ayuso), the Galician-language movie Ons (2020), directed by Alfonso Zarauza, and Galician-Portuguese co-production Auga seca (2020–21). Popular Galician-language crime series shown on Televisión de Galicia include Matalobos (2000–13) and Serramoura (2014). Other examples of shows with global reach which are filmed in Spanish with tokenistic dialogue in Galician include Fariña (2018) and El desorden que dejas (2020), based on the eponymous novel by Carlos Montero.

5 The genre hinges on many other aging masculine figures, and further research is needed on the intersection of aging, masculinity and crime in Galician noir on screen more broadly. There is the indefatigable detective Darío Castro who is suffering from lung cancer in Fariña and turncoat former cop and gambling addict Lamas in Vivir sin permiso. Mariscal is a caricature of convicted trafficker Marcial Dorado in Manuel Rivas’ Galician-language novel Todo é silencio which was adapted for screen in José Luis Cuerda’s 2012 Spanish-language film of the same name. Consider too the sparring older men who dominate the narrative of As bestas, Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s 2022 Goya hit that is based on a true story. RTVE series Néboa (2020) and Galician-Portuguese co-production Auga seca (2020–21) contain seemingly respectable greying entrepreneurs embroiled in drugs or arms trafficking. Other examples include Hector the older butler (and amateur sleuth) in Bambú Producciones period dramedy Un asunto privado (2022).

6 This lost generation is represented by Mario’s brother Sergio in Quien a hierro mata and Nemo’s son Carlos in Vivir sin permiso. The coastal town of Vilagarcía de Arousa, infamous for its role in the illegal drugs trade, has been nicknamed a “pueblo sin jóvenes” because of the number of young people lost to drug use and drugs-related crimes.

7 Earlier in the movie, a memorable scene shows Julia and Mario dancing to a song by Julio Iglesias, himself an iconic symbol of sexualized Galician aging masculinity, with its upbeat lyrics of “La vida sigue igual” about the circle of life making an ironic nod to the denouement.

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by the Spanish Ministerio de Ciencia e Innovación and the European Regional Development Fund under Grant ref. PID2022-136251NB-I00 as part of the project “Posthuman Intersections in Irish and Galician Literatures.”