The Wolf of Wall Street
Would you buy a movie ticket from this man?
dir: Martin Scorsese
2013
The Eighties Onslaught Continues!
I don't want to see any more films set in the 80s any more, at least for a while. That toxic decade is being over-represented at the moment, and I'm sick of it.
I mean, sure, it was a great time that a lot of awesome people lived during, way better people than those born in the 90s, but enough is enough.
"Enough is enough" is not a phrase that people like Jordan Belfort must have heard often enough, or accepted, ever. I don't think it's a phrase Peter Jackson understands either. And I don't think anyone says it often enough to Martin Scorsese, because here he has a 3 hour film celebrating the excesses and sheer horribleness of Jordan Belfort and almost every single person around him.
Yes, it's way too much film. It felt like, after the 2 hour mark, that I was watching the Director's Cut version you watch years down the track way after the cinematic release of a successful film. A two-hour version comes out, 2 and a half if it's Oscar-bait, which this most definitely is, and then years later a Director's Cut DVD comes out adding all the stuff the studios forced the director to cut out in order to not test the tolerance level of audiences too much.
Nu-uh. You can't do that to Martin Scorsese anymore. The man is a national treasure. He is probably the most beloved, most adored American director living today. Combine him with the megawattage of A List superstar Leonardo DiCaprio, and no-one will say no to them despite the fact that they should have, very loudly, just like no-one said no enough to Jordan Belfort until it was way too late, or at least he was beyond being capable of listening.
And yet I'm trying to figure out when that 'too late' time was, since Jordan Belfort, that supreme piece of shit as depicted in The Wolf of Wall Street, still lives and breathes, and barely, just barely paid at all for any of his many crimes.
His main crime is being Jordan Belfort. What a guy. What. A. Guy. In a slightly different reality, he would be President of the United States for life.
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason and infinite in faculty! Or some crap like that that Shakespeare once tweeted about.
What a piece of shit is the man at the centre of this flick and its constant flow of excesses upon excesses, how lacking in self-awareness and infinite in his capacity for monstrous selfishness.
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