“Another shoot ’em up gangster movie?” That’s what I thought when I heard “Blow” was arriving to a theater near me on April 6th.

Starring Johnny Depp as George Jung and Penelope Cruz as his wild wife Mirtha, “Blow” was nothing like I expected.

Yes, there were scenes of huge amounts of pot and cocaine being consumed and transported by Mirtha (Cruz), but where were the blood and car bombs?

Where was the tension filled music and darkness? How could a hippy blonde be the main character?

“Blow” was based on a true story of George Jung, an all-American boy who grew up on the East Coast with a loving, hardworking dad, Fred (Ray Liotta), and an unsatisfied mother Ermine (Rachel Griffiths) who was obsessed about money.

George and his buddy Tuna (Ethan Suplee) moved to California and got pulled into the wave of the sixties.

His girlfriend Barbara (Franka Potente) introduced him to the supplier of marijuana, Derek Foreal, played hilariously by Paul Rubens.

Derek and George worked as a team, as the business of drug dealing exploded.

George found a new direction when he met Diego Delgado (Jordi Molla) in prison.

This is where he started his career as the first American contact to perform large imports, and glamorize cocaine to people from all walks of life. He also creates a family with his wife Mirtha.

The wild parties and piles of coke are mixed up with slideshows of his daughter’s birthdays and his disscussions with his dad.

As a member of the female species, I ate up all of the sentimental parts, and gasped at the handsome ensemble in “Blow.”

I dug the soundtrack and artsy effects, and felt maybe there was hope for society that possibly we could be entertained without gallons of bloodshed.