The Mule

Leo Sharp probably deserves a better movie than The Mule, depending on your level of sympathy for an elderly man’s complicit criminal activity as a drug runner for a notorious Mexican cartel.

Once you get past the outrageous nature of its true-life premise, this crime drama from director Clint Eastwood stumbles in its attempt to confront a deeper moral complexity, instead opting for a predictable redemption saga.

In the film, Eastwood plays the renamed Earl Stone, an Illinois horticulturalist in his 80s with a struggling floral business that’s facing foreclosure. Besides the mounting financial pressure, he’s facing a lifetime of regret for alienating his family, including his bitter daughter (Alison Eastwood) and his ex-wife (Dianne Wiest), whose health is deteriorating.

In need of some quick cash, Earl begins transporting packages based out of a mechanic shop in El Paso, unaware at first that he’s a courier whose new bosses work for a drug lord (Andy Garcia). The mutually beneficial relationship gives Earl the cash he needs — to pay for the wedding of his granddaughter (Taissa Farmiga), for example — while giving the cartel a driver that the authorities would least expect.

However, as his loads increase, Earl becomes a target for a DEA agent (Bradley Cooper) looking for a major bust.

At 88, Eastwood still commands the screen by exuding a rugged bravado, even if it seems like we’ve seen him play variations of this same irascible and politically incorrect character in his recent screen portrayals.

The Mule is bolstered by its stellar cast of supporting performers, many of which bring depth and complexity to underwritten roles.

Nevertheless, the technically proficient film never feels authentic in its depiction of cartel life. And the absurd naivete of Earl’s friends and family toward his sudden wealth is too narratively convenient.

Earl is engaging enough, and intriguing in the way he disguises the motives and feelings, even if rooting for his methods of family reconciliation is more complicated. Do we pity his circumstances? Do we condemn his involvement in criminal activity? Do we salute his ingenuity?

Perhaps all three are true, but contrivances undermine the poignancy in the straightforward screenplay by Nick Schenk (Gran Torino) — inspired by a New York Times article about Sharp — which hits the road without a full load of cargo.

Rated R, 116 minutes.