Martin Scorsese’s latest tower of power The Wolf of Wall Street recently opened in cinemas in the UK and is still going strong at the box office; based on Jordan Belfort’s memoirs of the same name, TWoWS chronicles the rise and fall of infamous Wall Street investment-banking firm Stratton Oakmont and its leader, head wanker-banker* himself, Jordan Belfort (Dicaprio).
The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) biography/comedy/crime; USA; dir. Martin Scorsese; writers: Terence Winter (screenplay), Jordan Belfort (book)
Veering frequently between the ridiculous and the sublime, The Wolf of Wall Street draws a distinctly immoral line underneath the story-so-far of Jordan Belfort, happily exploiting his outrageously rockstarry antics for the sake of laughs but not exponentially disgusted with the man himself, whilst presenting him as addict to each and every vice you’d imagine -unable to separate his increasingly chaotic personal and professional lives as he cheats, tricks and trips out at every opportunity. A charismatic and convincing thrill-seeker, an addict and a liar, DiCaprio plays Belfort as a demonstrably unrepentant trickster who loots from the rich and also the poor – a sort of anti-Robin Hood with an inner circle of anti-Merry Men cheering his every move. This is assuredly not a David O. Russell film, and the only hearts of gold to be found in this particular indictment of Wall Street greed would likely be hidden in a Swiss bank account with a box of vintage Quaaludes.
TWoWS is 180 minutes long, boasting an immaculate sense of pace; it fuses its frequently crass scenes of sex, authentic dialogue** and slapstick silliness with emphasis on the larger-than-life persona of Jordan Belfort, infrequently interrupted by the high jinks and one-liners of his cronies and cult-like corporation of rabid but loyal followers. Leo’s over-the-top performance dominates the film, undergirded by the hilariously creepy Jonah Hill and a fine cast of secondary supporting acts. Any other comedy, a different director certainly, we’d likely be invited to root for this rowdy bunch and forgive them their coke-riddled foolishness, but this is Scorsese, and we know it can’t just be for laughs – we know how devastating his sociopaths tend to be.
By the final moments, Belfort is seen to get away with a lot more than he’s punished for; with plenty of reasons to dislike its protagonist and the cacophony of corporate cockheads, strongarm bullies and high-pressure sales tacticians, not until the final act does TWoWS drop the drug-dripped debauchery and show us a truly nasty side of Jordan Belfort, the potential repercussions of which sit not especially well with the dominantly comic aesthetic of the previous two hours.
It’s hard to shake the feeling that the real joke is on the very people never seen and rarely mentioned in the film – the thousands and thousands of victims of the firm – many of whom seem easily talked into handing over their savings and livelihoods in pursuit of the ever-elusive easy money; some of whom may simply have had more money than sense. According to Belfort, some of whom were simply interested in an increase to their initial investment, no questions asked. Indeed, the film is dedicated to the idea that the moral ambiguity of individuals and institutions – the type characterised by the likes of Jordan Belfort and embodied by Stratton Oakmont – is ripe for exploitation.
As for Scorsese and DiCaprio, their fifth collaboration since 2002 is not quite tour de force, stopping somewhat short of the penthouse suite – it places below The Departed, on par perhaps with Shutter Island, whilst sitting comfortably above the likes of The Aviator and Gangs of New York. The director himself lives long in the shadow of Goodfellas, with which the film will no doubt receive a multitude of comparisons. Unlike Henry Hill, JB and his pals are simply too dislikeable, too corrupt, too addicted and having far too much fun for me to really care about their fate. The Wolf of Wall Street is a rare kind of cinematic drug – three fun hours, full of great performances and entertaining to boot; a modern immorality tale that leaves nothing but good memories and an empty feeling in its wake.
by Deryn O’Sullivan (@Silverscene_)
* Listen, it was either wanker-banker or cock-broker. The former is much more self-explanatory than the latter.
** In many instances, the dialogue is taken verbatim from the source material. Jordan’s rallying speech to an office floor full of over-excited ‘Strattonites’ is indeed straight from the horses’ mouth.
Deryn Paul O'Sullivan 