Here goes. My first entry. My first time writing outside of English class or my Personal Statement. I think I'm in way over my head. Shout out to Giles Scott, my English teacher from Manchester, Josh Cain, a fellow student with talent beyond his years, and Bill Simmons, whose reputation should precede him. What do these three have in common? They all have blogs, from which I drew inspiration—I advise you to click their links. DO IT. DOO ITT. No? Nothing? Maybe there's a better Starsky and Hutch quote I can use in the future. Maybe there's a better movie I can quote from in the future. But enough rambling, time to man up and cut to the chase. Time to talk about The Great Gats-I mean The Wolf of Wall Street.
I'd like to start by talking about one of the most powerful scenes in any movie and one that set the stage for the remainder of Wolf: Matthew Mcconaughey's chest bump chant. This was heavily featured in trailers preceding the release of the film, and rightfully so. In it, Mccounaughey embodies the ideal (wording?) Wall Street fiend. He is headstrong, stoned, influential, and jubilant, with an aura of confidence that has well past overflowed into cockiness. I say influential because, as viewers, we know that all these traits will envelop the dreamy Leo, only stronger, and more psychotic. After seeing him in this movie, preceded by compelling acting in Mud and followed by an increasingly entrancing and complex performance in True Detectives, I have fallen in love with Mcconaughey. And I haven't even seen Dallas Buyers Club yet (I know, shame shame). In short, I thought he perfectly sprung into action the events that would transform our blessed Jordy Belfort, even though he had a meager 20 minutes of screen time out of a whopping 180.
I watched this movie in Park City (I live in Los Angeles) on a family ski vacation. The snow (or should I say ice) was so bad that I fell 20 times per day instead of my usual 15, and the majority of the time I was skiing over rocks and the hopeful buddings of pine trees. Anyways, I went into the theater having an idea of how raunchy it would be, but my older sister said there was no way she was sitting anywhere but on the aisle. So, I somehow ended up snuggled in between my loving mother and father, whose minds (and mine) were about to be blown to shreds. Roll opening credits. Martin Scorsese, Paramount Pictures, etc. Some guys, some I recognize, throwing little people. Ok. Some exposition. Ok. Some road head from one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen. Fine, could be worse. Lots of expensive things. Then BAM! Scorsese hits me with this (skip to 1:26). While our little lovebird Jack Dawson blows coke into a hooker's ass, I am left quivering in fear, knowing full well that my parents are stealing reproachful glances at each other. Don't get me wrong—it was a great opening sequence... just one I would have preferred to watch in the privacy of... well anywhere far away from Mom and Dad.
I think we can all agree on three things: Leonardo DiCaprio plays a near perfect wasted stock broker; this movie is way too long; and Margo Robbie is topped by few when it comes to beauty and seductive capabilities. (See F.1)
|F.1: This is exactly how she |
makes me feel, too
gives Gary Busey's a run
for its money
I wasn't surprised by the impact or controversy of the film. Almost every normal citizen I talked to hated it, regardless of age. "No story, all fluff, too much gratuitous sex, drugs, etc.". While I am a fan, found it highly entertaining, and would watch it agin, I also found problems with Wolf. While it did a fantastic job displaying the rise and fall of the thieves in thousand dollar suits, it also failed to provide the refreshing perspective that I craved at least a taste of. Only once, and briefly, was there any mention of the pain suffered by those who were cheated out of their hard earned green. While you could argue that they willingly "invested" their money and kept coming back for more, it is clear that there was no intention of helping the "top 1 percent". As Mcconaughey put it nicely, "move the money from your clients' pocket into your pocket". I can't complain about a lack of plot, because that isn't what I entered the theater for. It would be hard to relate to a man who made just shy of a million a week. But the film seemed fairly one dimensional, with hardly anything to take away from it when you throw your ticket stub away.