The Wolf of Wall Street
Long in tooth, short in story
We’re fooled to expect a classic arc studying Belfort’s golden years, only to go kaputt from impending lack of morale. Well, morale’s resignation was loud and clear but all redeemable human experience was lost to the inevitable comedown of hedonic (read: cinematic) excess. It felt like only one year. Gratuitous drug scenes helped for two. It’s really ten. Far more compressed than Goodfellas, Casino—ironically with a running time longer than both. At least let someone gray a little before the credits roll.
White isn’t always right
Too much time with white women, the white lady, and the white pill—things even poor and less exploitive people abuse. It didn’t feel like the journey of a brilliant man corrupted but more like the childish rampage of a corrupted man. Nowadays, I think we always favor the former over the latter.
How we didn’t meet your mother
Belfort’s first divorce and final decision to forgo any and all likeability resonates with no one because she was so under utilized. Cristin Milioti seems to be the actor with important roles that the audience never gets a chance to see on screen.
Give him a calculator
Jonah Hill continues mining scene stealing characters who can crunch numbers with scene stealing characters who can crunch numbers while incredibly high. His catalyst for success? Placing him within an arm’s reach of lawful authority. An obligatory handsome partner in crime also helps.
No, Emma Stone was not in this film
Entertaining as hell
Then when it’s over, as the dust settles, you feel slightly confused as to why you did it all. Your friends nod to the shared realization. An allegory to any addictive drug—money, coke, pills, or ambitious film—the best stuff is meant to only be consumed in the shortest bursts.
Or will they?
Photo credit: FirstShowing