As Donald Trump closes in on the U.S. presidency, it's worth remembering that the demagogic real-estate mogul is far from the most odious individual to have pursued a career in politics. Take Pablo Escobar, for instance: The notorious drug kingpin briefly served as a congressman in his native Colombia during the early 1980s, before it was decided that his achievements in smuggling cocaine to the United States were incompatible with a role in national government.
The life of Colombia's most infamous narco-trafficker was so rich and bizarre, it could have been conjured up by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. At the peak of his reign, Escobar had an estimated net value of $30 billion, enabling him to live in grotesque opulence. He sold himself as a Robin Hood figure, doling out fistfuls of free cash to the poor while presiding over an era of appalling violence. Despite the 6,349 homicides in his hometown of Medellin during 1991, many of the city's inhabitants continued to see him as a folk hero. Even Trump could learn something about populism from this guy.
It's hardly surprising that Escobar's story should eventually make its way to the screen, but trickier to explain the recent profusion of Pablo biopics. "Escobar: Paradise Lost" arrives in Japan on the heels of Netflix series "Narcos," which cast Brazilian actor Wagner Moura as the drug boss. Javier Bardem and John Leguizamo are both lined up to play the portly drug baron in rival movies next year, while "Training Day" director Antoine Fuqua is also working on a film about the Medellin cartel.