Sure. Vergara may not resemble the real-life Griselda, but she embodies her fiery criminal spirit in the new Netflix 6-part series.

From the word go, at the beginning of episode one in Griselda, viewers see Griselda Blanco (Sofía Vergara, Modern Family, Hot Pursuit) quickly approaching her home, concealing blood oozing from her hip and ushering her sons to pack up their stuff and get into a taxi for the airport Miami-bound, leaving behind the drug-fueled Medellín Cartel in Colombia.

Miami became Griselda Blancos’s drug-distributing oyster from 1979 to 1981 and was infamously known as the “Godmother” of cocaine.

Upon arriving in Miami, Blanco meets up with an old friend, Carmen (Vanessa Ferlito, 24, Graceland), who runs a travel agency, vows never to return to the drug game, and implores Griselda to do the same. Blanco has other plans. She smuggled enough pure-grade cocaine for others to take notice, sell to, and make a decent life for herself and her family. But she’s a female in a violent male-dominated drug business. After one of the drug distributors’ lackeys assaults Blanco for making him look foolish in front of his boss, Blanco retaliates by following him, ambushing him, and beating his legs with a bat. It’s Sofía Vergara like you’ve never seen. Savage and ruthless.

Vergara owns Griselda’s violence and conveys it well.

She has to capture Griselda’s essence, after all. Undermined and undervalued, Blanco enlists an army of Cuban dissidents fresh off the Mariel boatlift in 1979. It’s not a good look for Cubans, I know (I’m Cuban). Needless to say, this troupe of terrorizing refugees is at Griselda’s beck-and-call, targeting the Ochoas (one of Colombia’s prominent cartels), other drug distributors, and any other man, woman, and child that has the misfortune of crossing her path. The first to discover Griselda’s crimes is June Hawkins (Julian Aidén Martinez, The Black List, Prodigal Son), a Latina cop who also had to contend with sexism of her own in the Miami Police Department. Not believed by her colleagues in law enforcement, Hawkins persevered with the theory that the drug lord behind the murders in that era was a woman.

The filmmakers and executive producers (Eric Newman and Sofía Vergara) wanted to tell Griselda Blanco’s perspective. Still, the last three episodes seem to gloss over the extent of the damage and riches she assumed. It’s not that we need more mounds of cocaine, dead bodies, lavish mansions, and gold toilets. I would’ve liked to have seen more expository details explaining her ascension to the top before eventually being gun-downed in Colombia in 2012 and serving 15 years in federal prison. Nonetheless, Griselda (directed by Andrés Baiz, Narcos franchise) is a captivating glimpse into the only female drug lord we’ve barely seen on-screen, unlike her drug kingpin counterparts, like Pedro Escobar. You can stream Griselda on Netflix.