The Wolf of Wall Street

Early in Martin Scorsese’s classic GoodFellas, narrator Henry Hill describes how he always wanted to be a gangster. And though the film doesn’t shy away from the brutality of the mob, it also shows why such a lifestyle would be so tempting. Money, women, expensive things, (almost) consequence-free hedonism. When the dirtier details aren’t on the screen, it sometime looks like a glamorous life.

The Wolf of Wall Street is similar to GoodFellas in a lot of ways, and might be Scorsese’s best film since. It, too, is a stylish, fierily energized guided tour of another world of temptation and indulgence: the stock trade. But while this world might not be as frowned upon by society, the depravity depicted reaches much more extreme levels. It offers the viewer a window to look in on a lifestyle they might dream of being a part of, but it’s so raw and unflinching that they'll be thankful they're not.

The "wolf" of the title is real-life stockbroker Jordan Belfort, played by Scorsese’s frequent collaborator Leonardo DiCaprio (the real Belfort cameos). After striking it rich selling penny stock, Belfort founded the firm Stratton Oakmont, which made many millions in the stock market through dubious, sometimes blatantly illegal means in the 1990s. He and his partners also developed a taste for wild extravagance until the Feds shut them down.

Like the protagonists in GoodFellas and Scorsese’s Las Vegas drama Casino, DiCaprio almost nostalgically narrates this tale. Also like those movies, the narrative encompasses the broad overview of the dates it took place, but also makes time for the little anecdotes and describing the particulars of things (both stock fraud and Belfort and company’s bad habits), all scored to an almost unnaturally perfect soundtrack (an eclectic mix with snippets of classic rock, blues, and even hip hop). Every scene has boundless energy and displays adept filmmaking techniques, some sequences almost like little vignettes that are memorable masterworks by themselves. I won’t describe any and ruin the surprise (and a lot of it has to be seen to be believed, anyway), but I’ll just say they involve much illegal activity, sex, and drugs. Lots and lots of sex and drugs. Not only is it easy to see why the original cut was rated NC-17, but it’s hard to imagine what more could have been in it.

And it’s funny. Hilarious, actually. That’s no surprise, as Scorsese frequently underscores more intense moments in his films with black humor. But here, the wanton depravity is not only appalling, but exhausting. It never ceases to shock with every new excess, but seeing it over and over again is a little draining. So to keep things sailing smoothly, the tone is most often darkly comic to curb our shock and disgust (or at least soften the blow), and said vignette-like sequences aren’t only great pieces of filmmaking, but elaborate setups for humor. It works, as the movie is as laugh-a-minute as any straight-up comedy, and might even leave you feeling dirtier than any gross-out or politically incorrect comedic picture.

DiCaprio shows he’s got great comic timing and can make us laugh. But he never lets us lose sight of the fact that his character’s an awful human being (Ray Liotta’s Henry Hill looks like a choir boy by comparison). As funny as he is on screen, he exudes a serious and real aura of a man whose behavior and increasingly intense addictions—to money, drugs, women, even excess itself—cause him to become more and more unhinged. To call him an animal would be trite, and also a gross understatement; he’s more like a demon.

This is DiCaprio’s movie, no doubt, but the rest of the Stratton Oakmont players also expertly balance being funny while still playing absolutely contemptible scumbags. Jonah Hill does it most often, and to the greatest extent. But he only stands out because he’s given a bigger part, and the lesser known cast members are just as good. So are the less immoral characters, like Margot Robbie as Belfort’s gorgeous bride who seems like a trophy wife but later proves to be a real person with human limits, or a very funny Rob Reiner as his hotheaded father who advises him but never explicitly disapproves of his doings. I say “less immoral” because even they are compromised to a degree just by being in this world. They’re not voices of moral reason, but notches to measure how low Belfort goes.

Come to think of it, there really isn’t a moral center to the picture at all (the closest thing is Kyle Chandler’s FBI agent, but his straight-laced demeanor doesn’t even come close to countering the various vices we see). We also don’t see the people who Stratton Oakmont swindled out of their money. The film doesn’t need either of these to condemn greed and excess, though. The sheer obscenity (a description DiCaprio actually uses in the picture) of what’s on screen does that all by itself. And in Scorsese’s hands, it’s impossible to turn away from.

American Hustle

American Hustle opens with a pudgy Christian Bale, a far cry from his Batman physique, executing one of the worst comb-overs ever shown on screen, and also setting the tone for the entire movie. It’s kind of a funny scene. It’s a little gross. It ends up going on too long and becomes excruciating. Most of all, it makes it clear that the people in the picture aren’t the suave, charming, good-looking (at least not the men) hucksters of a typical caper film. Or even really likeable at all (this goes for all of them).

Who are these characters? There’s Irving Rosenfeld (Bale) and Sydney (Amy Adams), smalltime con artists and sometimes lovers. There’s FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper), who busts the two and offers immunity in exchange for help making more busts. In a supporting role is Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), a well-connected New Jersey mayor who becomes the target of a sting that keeps getting bigger and bigger (based on the real-life Abscam operation in the late 1970s). And there’s Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence), Irving’s volatile, spiteful wife who never ceases to be a thorn in his side.

If that sounds more like a description of the characters than the plot, there’s a reason for it. The film is not a full dramatization of Abscam (which would have been interesting), and admits upfront to altering or embellishing events. It’s also decidedly not a caper film, as it walks the audience through every step of its scheming, rather than giving us mere pieces to have fun pondering until the whole truth is revealed in the end (there’s a small twist, but it comes so late in the picture that it comes off more like a joke than a major plot point). There are elements of both genres, but the story and structure seem very secondary, for the filmmakers apparently decided the interactions between the characters would be more interesting.

Only one problem: these characters are awful. Not because they’re lowlifes, but because they’re underdeveloped, uncharismatic, and often just grating. Only Bale brings anything interesting to his role, evoking the sense, however lightly, that life as a con man isn’t glamorous, that he’s in it out of desperation more than ambition. Cooper, however, is a bully to both superiors and his criminal subordinates who’s hard to root for. Lawrence is a whiny, spoiled housewife stereotype, aggravating or intrusive (and still aggravating) in most of her scenes. And Adams, whose character we're told plays a big part in the scams, is nonetheless given little to do most of the time besides wearing cleavage-baring attire in every scene.

Director David O. Russell worked with all four in his last two films (Lawrence and Cooper in Silver Linings Playbook, Bale and Adams in The Fighter). But the movie doesn’t feel like it was just an excuse for them to reunite to hang out, like some projects made by frequent collaborators. The character interactions and dialogue seem natural, organic, and even real. Maybe that’s the problem: the characters are so much like real people that they’re not colorful or compelling enough to hold a movie. When their interplay isn’t uncomfortable or even painful to sit through, it’s just boring.

As this endlessly plays out onscreen, chances of actually understanding the particulars of the sting plot get slimmer as the scheme grows more complex. And on top of everything, the picture stretches its aim even further by attempting comedy. It works selectively (a recurring cameo by Louis C.K. is hysterical), but most often, the bits of humor aren’t enough to salvage some absolute duds of dialogue exchanges.

The movie almost manages to be a good time, in spite of itself. But there’s no denying that it’s a big mess of narrative, structure, and wasted talent and opportunities. A mess can still be enjoyable with good characters, but that’s a luxury this film doesn’t have.

Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues

I generally enjoy Will Ferrell. But, not Anchorman, despite the fact that it’s probably his most popular movie. This might be partly because its spoofing of the 1970s (especially the sexism and office politics) went over my head, being born nearly a decade removed that era. More so, it’s because the film’s humor was derived from absurd and awkward situations, but the absurdity was just weird and goofy, never in a humorous way.

Anchorman 2 moves on to the 1980s, as Ferrell’s egotistical numbskull newsman Ron Burgundy and San Diego’s Channel 4 team (Paul Rudd, David Koechner, and Steve Carell) relocate to New York City to be part of a radical new idea: a 24-hour news network (just like a real nascent enterprise that began in this era). They bring the network to prominence by blurring the line between news and entertainment.

In other words, they’re the ones responsible for dumbing down the news into the soft brain candy it is today. It’s a golden opportunity for media satire, and it’s clearly right there in the movie, just waiting to be bitingly skewered. But quite frustratingly, that never happens. Ferrell and company tread very lightly, and in fact their use of such fluff is often depicted positively in the plot because it helps them lead in the ratings. When the film addresses this topic in its preachy moment, it carries no weight, either as a soapbox or a joke. And there’s not a lot of satire in anything else, either, save for some throwaway 80s references with the benefit of hindsight.

But, most of the audience probably isn’t expecting anything but a few laughs (I wasn’t myself, but it would have been nice if they had acted on this opportunity). Well, this one’s approach to humor is a little different than the first film (which I appreciate but fans might not). There’s still some of the long, awkward-funny sequences in the form of a few subplots: Carell’s simpleminded weatherman finding a soul mate in an equally dumb receptionist (Kristen Wiig), and Burgundy’s struggle to reconcile his attraction to his African-American boss (Meagan Good) with his traditional (meaning slightly racist) view of the world. The results of these vary from funny, to grating and possibly a little legitimately insulting. But the vast majority of the humor is of the standard one-liner and broad gag variety.

As for whether or not these translate into a laugh, I’d say it’s split about 50-50. There are plenty of gags, and the film moves on quickly from those that clearly don’t work, so it’s an overall pleasant enough experience. There are even a few howlers. At least, that’s until the last half-hour or so, which spirals into a mess of recycled jokes from the first film, truly stupid plot developments, and more cameos than a terrible variety special, as if to substitute stars for humor. So, actually, the whole product might finish a little in the red.

Despite my feelings on the films, though, I actually do like the Ron Burgundy character. He’s quite funny to watch fumbling through a newscast or conducting joke interviews, which get much less cinematic screen time than his dalliances away from the newsroom. Ferrell’s many in-character appearances promoting the film have been funnier and more enjoyable than the film itself. Maybe the character would be better suited living on in such a smaller capacity than in further pictures, one that has him actually doing his job by humorously delivering the news.

Then again, that niche might already be filled…

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug

After getting a Lord of the Rings movie for three successive Decembers from 2001 to 2003, it almost seemed like a J.R.R. Tolkien adaptation became a Christmas tradition. I actually felt like the holidays were missing something in 2004. So I was quite excited Peter Jackson decided to make another trilogy out of Tolkien’s prelude novel The Hobbit. Not just because I loved his Lord of the Rings pictures, but because it seems like a long-lost seasonal tradition has been rekindled.

Last year’s first installment An Unexpected Journey was much brighter and less gloomy than Lord of the Rings. The narrative was that of a quest, not a brutal war, so there was more of a sense of adventure. There was time for fun and humor alongside the thrilling moments, which weren’t quite so intense. Well, there’s still some room for all that in The Desolation of Smaug, but things do start to darken. Not as dark as The Two Towers, the middle and by far grimmest entry of the last trilogy. There’s still adventure, but the drums of war start to beat.

The story finds Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and his Dwarf allies continuing their trek across Middle-Earth to reclaim the vast treasure trove stolen by the dragon Smaug (voiced and performed by Benedict Cumberbatch). En route, they face several dangers, while also coming across some new lands and faces (and at least one familiar one). But while the company’s greatest worry is Smaug, the wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) seeks answers about an evil force plaguing the land.

That's where the darkness comes in, and where things deviate from Tolkien’s written word substantially. Jackson’s previous films all altered or simplified the books’ events, but with a few exceptions, the narratives stayed mostly on track. This time, though, the film travels into completely new territory to mold the story into a much more direct lead-in to the events of Lord of the Rings (the book had some such prequel elements, but only in passing as Bilbo's quest was the main focus).

Plenty of other characters have their roles and depictions altered, too. A completely new character (Evangeline Lilly’s Elf warrior Tauriel) is even thrown in to make a romantic subplot, as is Orlando Bloom’s Legolas for no real reason other than he’s a popular character. None of this is done badly, but it’s all a little intrusive, as if they shuffled a few unrelated scripts in with one following the book. I won’t go so far as to say it disrespects the source material (Jackson’s love of Tolkien’s work is all too apparent for that to be the case). Still, it seems just a bit like they piled on more subplots than needed so they could stretch it out to three films, instead of the originally planned two.

But extra plots aside, the main storyline of Bilbo and company’s journey is excellent. It’s easily the most broken narrative Jackson’s given us, starting abruptly and ending on a full-fledged cliffhanger instead of a moment of rest like its predecessors. It makes up for that, however, by offering little but the good stuff, all the most exciting parts of the story (well, almost all of them; some were saved for next year, no doubt). We even get some character moments when things slow down, specifically the subtle awakening of Bilbo’s bloodlust as the One Ring he found last time starts to take hold of him, and how greedy lust for gold begins to corrupt the charismatic Dwarf leader Thorin (Richard Armitage).

But the star of the whole thing is the dragon, and he’s quite an awesome specimen to behold. It’s probably the most amazing, awe-inspiring CGI creation since the first Jurassic Park. Yet, Smaug’s as fully realized a character as Andy Serkis’ Gollum, not some soulless special effect. Just the half-hour or so he’s onscreen is worth the lengthy runtime (shorter than previous entries but still rather long), although there’s plenty more amazing visuals and exciting sequences, as well. Other highlights include a very spooky forest full of oversized creepy crawlers, and a river battle that boomerangs from thrilling, to silly, to hilarious comedy, and back again.

Such moments are what matter most, I think, for these movies are as much about story as spectacle. But it’s spectacle done with love and imagination, not empty blockbuster flash. It’s obvious Tolkien is near and dear to Jackson and his collaborators. It’s fun to travel with them to Middle-Earth, even if the journey veers off the author’s pages.

South Park, "The Hobbit"

Is it just me, or are the kids of South Park a little young for this kind of storyline?

Given, they’ve been through things a lot dirtier than this, and many that would be extraordinary for any real person. But in a story like this that tackles real, mature issues almost seriously (from what I can recall offhand, this might be the straightest the show’s ever played it), elementary school children seem less appropriate than teens or young adults. And this isn’t the first time I’ve felt that. Maybe since the characters would be in their twenties by now if they aged in real time, Matt Stone and Trey Parker decided their creations have matured enough to be in more grown-up stories (The Simpsons has likewise placed child characters in more adult stories in recent years, but I don’t give it much thought because that show’s frankly beyond irrelevant at this point, while South Park is still going strong).

Those issues I speak of are women’s issues, and this episode lays them on thick. It all starts when Wendy, Stan’s longtime girlfriend and the show’s voice for traditional feminism, does the moral thing in standing up for a classmate who’s picked on for her appearance. Her good deed ends up backfiring, and she becomes the most hated girl in school.

In the midst, the episode makes points on (and these are just the most obvious ones; there's plenty more should you choose to dig deeper) standards of beauty in our celebrity culture and the era of Photoshop, and how the world at-large (specifically, males) boils down any debate between females to shallow jealousy and petty fighting. The way Wendy’s views arise scorn from everyone around her might represent the changing face of feminism (or the death of the school of thought as we know it; the viewer can decide). Although, Wendy’s not perfect either; some of her criticisms contain nearly as much venom as Butters’ super-mean comments that started her whole crusade. It seems like a comment on how women can be as hurtful as men, but somehow get a pass if it’s directed at the same sex.

Am I thinking too hard? Possibly, but this episode got me into an analytical state of mind, and I’m still trying to digest all of it. Hardest of all to swallow is the ending, which might be the darkest (well, darkest that isn’t funny dark) and most emotional ever on the show. I’ve never wanted so much to see one of those corny “I learned something today” monologues from the show's earlier days that sets everything right. But no, it takes the defeatist path. The fact that it offers no easy answers leads me back to my original point: the characters are still kids, but the show’s grown up considerably, and is better for it.

But, I have a feeling no one will remember these elements very much. I imagine the media's focus will be on the fact that the show once again took on Kanye West, and compared an unseen Kim Kardashian to a hobbit. And yes, I laughed at this, for West’s very public lack of self-awareness makes him easy fodder. Since last time happened before his infamous moment with Taylor Swift, the episode makes sure to throw in a jab about that, and it’s very funny. But I’m afraid it might upstage the meatier feminist portion of this episode. Which just makes the cold, cold ending sting a little more.

This was an excellent ending to a season I’d describe as typical. Meaning, there were many very funny moments, some great satire, some stories that turned out strange but watchable nonetheless. And yes, at least one dud of an episode.

South Park, "Titties and Dragons"

Now I really want to watch Game of Thrones.

This whole Black Friday saga rather brilliantly combined so many elements—timeless things like post-Thanksgiving shopping mayhem and stuff more "about now" like HBO’s fantasy series and the newest video game consoles—into a coherent whole. Tonight’s episode concluded the storyline by adding many more twists and betrayals. It worked so well that I wasn’t even watching the show like I normally do, taking it in as comedy; I was actually quite engrossed in it, as if I were watching a great, compelling drama. If a mere parody did that…well, I might just have to check the series out.

It was so compelling that I kind of forgave the fact that it wasn’t as funny as the first two entries in this three-parter. Yeah, there were moments where I laughed, but as sometimes happens, Trey Parker and Matt Stone took the narrative so far that it left less room for humor. And yes, I realize having never seen Game of Thrones, I may have missed some references (I did, however, get the obvious play on the Red Wedding, because frankly, you couldn’t avoid hearing about it somewhere when the show got to the point this summer). But the jokes that had been running through this whole arc were rather played out by now. Especially the fake George R.R. Martin’s wiener obsession, which really had nowhere to go but down after that memorable choir gag from last episode.

As for the newer stuff, I found some humor in seeing a certain nerdy tech icon tattooed in gang-style computer code, although I can’t remember if I actually laughed at it or not. I did laugh really hard at the one-line return of the perverted Elmo doll you may have forgotten about from three weeks ago, placed oh so perfectly in this one's resolving moments. Adding real Black Friday footage to the mall bloodbath was a funny touch, although I’m a little disappointed that the selected film was relatively tame. Some of the more intense fights from this past Thanksgiving weekend would have fit right in alongside the cartoon carnage, and it could have been hilarious seeing the two cut together. I’m still on the fence about the ending, torn between appreciating it as a mildly comical ad-inside-a-show, and hating it as a shameless plug (maybe if it had been funnier...).

I am sure, however, that I loved this episode, and this entire arc as a whole. It was smart, clever, often very funny, and ultimately, surprisingly captivating.

Oldboy

It might not always be fair to judge a remake by simply comparing it to the original. But that’s hard not to do when a filmmaker copies it so closely instead of making the story their own. It’s even more difficult when the original was close to perfect, while the remake is inferior in every way. Such is the case with Oldboy, the dark, twisted South Korean gem from director Park Chan-wook. An American remake has been talked about for years, but upon finally hitting the screen in a crowded Thanksgiving weekend, the Spike Lee-directed movie has received little notice.

The film follows Joe Doucett (Josh Brolin), a drunken lowlife who wakes up after a bender to find himself inexplicably locked in a room. No windows, no phone, and no contact with the outside world. He’s given meals through a trough in the door, and knocked out with sleeping gas periodically so he can be groomed by his captors. His only company is a television, from which he learns his wife was murdered and he’s the prime suspect. After 20 years in captivity, he’s just as suddenly released, and sets out to find out who kidnapped him, as well as track down his surviving daughter.

It was 15 years in Park’s film, one of several small changes in the movie. It’s also Americanized, meaning not only are the look and setting different, but some of the too-extreme-for-Hollywood sequences have been excised, with only a few hinting references remaining. And the reasons for the villainous plot against the protagonist have changed a bit, as has the scheme's complexity. But mostly, the film follows the original’s storyline pretty closely. Same sequence of events, same jarring plot twist, even the same extended hallway battle (although here it seems rather cartoonish, instead of revealing about the character’s atrophied human feeling and iron determination for vengeance). What’s different is how it’s done.

The screen time of Brolin’s captivity is increased, with some new creepy touches as his sanity unravels and further ways his captors torment him. The lead-up to his abduction, as he drunkenly wanders streets as empty and misty as only horror movies get, conjures up some unsettling dread. Lee also expands on the backstory, with a longer pre-captivity introduction that shows just how much of an unlikeable loser the lead character is. It almost makes us not want to root for him at first, but after he’s released from his prison, he seems set up for redemption, at least as much as he can get in the depraved web in which he’s caught.

But whatever potential that's there evaporates quickly. Once he’s freed, he goes into stoic Death Wish mode, committing acts of violence almost mechanically and showing no emotion. Well, some emotion, but it all seems forced. His romance with a young nurse who cares for him (Elizabeth Olsen) is like an unwelcome romantic subplot forcibly shoved into an action thriller, not a sickly tender meeting of unlikely kindred spirits like the original film.

That’s the biggest, most affecting difference between Park’s film and Lee’s: emotion. For all the depravity of the original, Park instilled within it a powerful, shattering emotional depth. Even the villain’s heinous plot turned out to be an act from the bottom of his heart. Here, the villain (Sharlto Copley) is just an insane caricature, and the tone is that of a revenge thriller with touches of the torture porn genre. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the fact that it’s not a very effective thriller is. It’s very straightforward and standard, dragging along to the end and offering very little tension.

The final results might not completely be the fault of the filmmakers, though. Apparently, studio interference resulted in significant cuts against the wishes of cast and crew. We need not wait and hope for an uncut DVD to see the optimal version of Oldboy, however. That film already exists in the form of Park’s original.