Cocaine Bear: No Bluegrass Conspiracy, just one hopped-up apex predator | Opinion
Kentucky will once again be thrust into the spotlight on Feb. 24, 2023. On this day moviegoers nationwide will be able to feast their eyes on the glorious interpretation of what might have happened in 1985 when a North American Black Bear stumbled upon 75 pounds of cocaine and decided to eat every last bundled package. If someone grew up west of the Mississippi River, there’s a good chance they never heard this fabled story. As for kids growing up in Kentucky and hearing murmurs of The Bluegrass Conspiracy, the thought of a drug crazed black bear was normal and utterly amusing for some odd reason.
The Hollywood movie being released in late February is being marketed as “horror/comedy.” Those categories might sound like a strange combination but will undoubtedly include a sizable amount of gore and hysterically bad dialogue, all centered around a hopped-up apex predator. From the outside looking in, I’m anticipating the mashup to be somewhere between Jaws meets Dumb and Dumber.
Although this bear was quietly living in Georgia when cocaine started falling from the sky in 1985 and the plane which dropped the illegal drugs crashed in Tennessee, the original origin of this story spawned in Central Kentucky from the bluest of blue bloods. I don’t have the time or space to detail Sally Denton’s amazing book The Bluegrass Conspiracy but would encourage those looking for a page turner to give it a read. It hooks all the usual suspects and puts a wide magnifying glass on the sordid affairs of Kentucky’s golden triangle.
If the black bear was just a small supporting character in this ordeal, why is he getting his own film out of it? What exactly is the appeal to this spin-off tale traveling down its own farcical rabbit hole? Funny enough, the director of the film sees it as a revenge story. Elizabeth Banks who directed Cocaine Bear said that this provided the opportunity to give restitution to the bear. Her interpretation is that the poor black bear was collateral damage of the war on drugs. A martyr to be celebrated and honored with a scripted, budgeted, feature-length film. While her take is hilarious, I can’t quite tell if she’s serious or the smartest salesperson around.
Give Lexington-based company Kentucky for Kentucky some detective credit. They claimed to have tracked down the real “Pablo Escobear” through an arduous seven degrees of separation. Not only did they chase down the taxidermied black bear who died of heart failure, the folks at KYforKY managed to acquire him and have him shipped back to Kentucky where he currently greets shoppers at their Fun Mall. It could be debated if they have in their possession the same Chattahoochee National Forest black bear that stumbled upon 95 percent pure cocaine, but nonetheless they have successfully sold quite the story to their rabid customer base.
Besides being a mess of a romp in the theatres and reason to eat buttered popcorn, what lessons can be learned from Cocaine Bear? Is it about the dangers of excess and the downfall of those who overindulge? Maybe it’s a metaphorical story about the inner animal in all humans, only needing a spark of serendipitous circumstances to go down the wrong path. It might possibly be about total destruction of all inherent truths, presenting nihilism to the masses in the form of a mind-altered bear.
More than likely this movie’s sole existence is to entertain and present the context of a crazy historical story in the most fantastical way possible. There is no subtext or hidden easter eggs, only the wild ride of a drug laden black bear who appears to go on a killing spree. As for the Kentucky connection to the source material, we have a fairly good idea of what happened in that Georgia forest and can assume it’s anticlimactic. Even so, I’ll buy the ticket and take the ride when this movie comes out, if for no other reason than to cheer on that poor victimized bear who was minding his own business.
Jim Jackson resides in Franklin County. He can be reached by email at jackson.m.jim@gmail.com.