They may have been known as a mafia, with all the negative connotations that implies, but make no mistake about it, the members of the Cornbread Mafia were a family that looked out for one another and their marginalized communities. Of course, that’s always been a definition of the mafia, too. The new documentary, Cornbread Mafia (directed by Evan Mascagni), which had its world premiere at SXSW on Thursday night, asks us to think about the laws that create the conditions by which we view a group of people living “outside” the law as a mafia or a family co-op. When do those definitions blur? When do those laws become outdated? Why were they instituted in the first place? Who benefits? Who suffers?
Cornbread Mafia tells the unbelievable true story of a group of Kentucky farmers who built the largest domestic marijuana syndicate in U.S. history. How large? Well, at one point, they were weighing money instead of counting it. Sons of tobacco farmers, moonshiners, and bootleggers, they turned to pot to keep their families fed. What followed was straight out of Kentucky folklore: lion cubs on the farm, backroad police chases, and a code of silence that baffled prosecutors. Part true crime and part cartoon, the film blends community, the War on Drugs, and a whole lot of weed with the humor and heart of the folks who lived it.
That anyone ever spent twenty years in jail…or is still in jail for marijuana possession…is in itself criminal. The documentary sheds light on a time when people growing marijuana would be arrested and released on a $500 fine. This was before mandatory minimums and the “war on drugs,” of course. It is past time for de-criminalization at every level. While there have been and will continue to be racist imbalances in conviction and sentencing, the film makes clear that this is also—maybe always has been—primarily about economics. The rich and the poor. The haves and the have nots. Even though it’s not explicitly depicted in the film, you can see (feel) the powers that be simply seething over the Bickett’s business acumen and financial success.
Mascagni’s approach to the story has the ability to bridge diverse audiences. When Joe Keith expresses an ingrained distrust of the cops and those in power, some viewers might find this surprising. And viewers from places far more cosmopolitan than rural Kentucky will be far too familiar with the state-sanctioned murder of Charlie Stiles, a Robin Hood-esque source of inspiration for many of the men in the mafia and for members of the wider community, who benefited from his “outlaw” ways.
Cornbread Mafia takes this small window of time and place and uses it as a window through which we can reflect on the larger history of the second half of 20th century America: the Vietnam War, Reagan, the “war on drugs,” industrial collapse, the increasing wealth gap between the poor and rich, and more. And, oh yeah, it contains some of the funniest and most unbelievable stories you’ll ever hear.