Andrea Di Stefano’s Escobar: Paradise Lost blends fact with fantasy. Pablo Escobar, the late, legendary Colombian drug trafficker, is the central figure in the movie, which was screened at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. But virtually everything else in it is a figment of Di Stefano’s fervent imagination. Which is to say that Escobar, its flights of fancy notwithstanding, keeps you at the edge of your seat.
The two-hour film, starring the smouldering Benicio del Toro as Escobar, opens in Medellin in June 1991 as he’s about to surrender to the authorities. Escobar, fully bearded and intimidatingly hulking, looks at first glance like a younger Saddam Hussein. This may be intentional. Like Saddam, Esobar is cold, calculating and amoral, a man who should not be crossed.
Having been cornered, Escobar is finally ready to go to prison. But before he gives himself up, he phones his mother, who prays with him, and hands out an important assignment to one of his minions, Nick (Josh Hutcherson), a young Canadian surfer who became a member of his inner circle by virtue of his romance with Escobar’s winsome niece, Maria (Claudia Traisac).
Nick and Maria, played to perfection by Hutcherson and Traisac, are imaginary figures. Nick and his brother, Dylan (Brady Corbet) are diehard surfers and run a surfing camp on a beach near Escobar’s compound. By chance, Nick, decent and clean-cut, meets Maria, who works for her powerful uncle, a billionaire who’s acquired his wealth in the extremely lucrative cocaine trade. It’s love at first sight.
In a flashback, Nick and Dylan are seen clearing bush in the jungle and surfing. The camp they’ve built near the ocean is rudely dismantled by the rough-hewn landowners, who demand payment. Against this menacing backdrop, Maria informs Nick that foreigners who seek paradise in Colombia will be sorely disappointed.
Escobar appears again when he inaugurates a clinic in a small town. Portraying himself as a folk hero and a latter-day Robin Hood, he promises to fight for the rights of the common people and protect them from the capricious powers who exploit them.
The scene shifts to Escobar’s palatial estate, nestled in the mountains. Despite his fearsome reputation, he’s a family man, devoted to his wife, children and relatives. Surprisingly, Nick has no idea how Escobar earns a living. “Cocaine,” says Maria, noting that the cocaine trade goes back a long way in Colombia.
Nick finally meets Escobar and the conversation is short and sweet. In a philosophical aside, Escobar observes that drugs “eat of the souls of many great men.” This is merely a preface to the two topics on his mind. Does he believe in god and does he love Maria? In both cases, Nick replies in the affirmative. Escobar, who’s religious and treats Maria like a daughter, is pleased by his answers. 
Benicio del Toro, far right, portrays a Colombian drug lord
Nick, whom Escobar affectionately calls Nico, starts working on the grounds of the hacienda, but he’s uncomfortable there. He wants to go back to the surfing camp, but Escobar wants him to stay. Del Toro, his swarthy features denoting masculinity and his Latino-accented voice giving off a low growl, is wonderful as Escobar.
The film doubles back to the beginning as Escobar hands Nick his instructions. “Our task is to hide our economic power,” says Escobar, who likens Nick to a son. Nick is supposed to drive to a remote town, where a local man will guide him to a cave in the countryside. Nick will then deposit Escobar’s treasure in gold in the cave, blow up the entrance and kill the man. Not being a cold-blooded murderer, Nick is unwilling to complete the last part of the job.
At this juncture, the film takes off in wild and unpredictable directions. Nick struggles with Escobar’s chilling order, discovers that his life is in dire jeopardy, dodges assassins and tries to save his brother.
Escobar sags a bit toward the denouement, but on the whole, it’s fast and furious and leaves you intrigued and glued to the screen.