The more religious among you may find the title of Maria Full of Grace offensive in its appropriation of the first line of Our Lady's prayer, particularly when Maria (Moreno), a pregnant 17-year-old, is stuffed to the gunwales with pellets of heroin in her role as a 'mule' trafficking drugs to New York on behalf of a Colombian cartel. An insider's view of what it might feel like to smuggle drugs, the film is shot in grainy, washed-out textures that suggest a documentary feel, while Jim Denault's use of close-ups in confined spaces convey the claustrophobic, nightmarish world Maria finds herself in. Moreno was nominated for an Oscar for this role, and she is indeed compelling as an innocent abroad, determined to do whatever it takes in order to create a positive future for her unborn child. Maria's plans, of course, go awry, or else it wouldn't be much of a story, but for all the ostensible terror of her situation, this film is oddly lacking in dramatic tension. That might well be due to a fatal dichotomy in Maria's character. She is either self-assured and strong-willed enough to survive the various disasters that come her way, or she is the wide-eyed innocent horrified by the grotesque realities of being a mule. Joshua Marston, directing his own script, appears to want to have it both ways, and the result is that the clashing personality types cancel one another out. But maybe that's intentional. Maria appears to be pitched as a metaphor for Colombia itself - pregnant with hope while chock-a-block with drugs - and perhaps Marston is trying to elicit from his audience the ennui that characterises the response of the international community to Colombia's internal problems.
