Cahiers du cinéma: The Wolf of Wall Street

I went to see “The Wolf of Wall Street” last night.

I’m really not the best person to talk about Martin Scorsese’s work and how “Wolf” fits into the context of his career; I’m really spotty on Scorsese, though I’m working to fill in some gaps. But what I can do is take it in isolation as a movie, without the burden of trying to fit it into any other context.

If you like hookers and blow, this is your movie. There is plenty of nekked woman-flesh on display – and we’re not talking just topless; there’s a considerable amount of full-frontal female nudity. There’s also plenty of Bolivian marching powder, and quite a few scenes involving the snorting of same off of the neither regions of paid professionals, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

But even more prevalent than Peruvian E is Quaalude. In case you haven’t read any reviews of “Wolf”, the movie is also jam-packed with references to, and discourses upon, Quaaludes. Quaaludes drive several of the major plot points of the movie, including a funny sequence involving the titular “Wolf” (he he, he said “titular”) suddenly experiencing the effects of an old batch of tablets at precisely the worst possible moment.

Did I mention that “Wolf” is funny? I’ve seen it described as a “black comedy”, and I can’t really argue with that. I wouldn’t say it was as convulsively funny as “Sharknado” or “Spinal Tap”, but it had me smiling and quietly giggling during much of the three hour running time.

(In case you haven’t read any reviews II: this is a long movie. Not Larry of Araby long, but still pretty long.)

I wish Joanna Lumley had more screen time. She’s luminous in the few scenes she has. She’s especially good in the “is he hitting on me/is she hitting on me?” scene with DiCaprio; watching that scene…well, I wanted very much to take Ms. Lumley out for a cheeseburger and the amusing house red, and get her away from that sleezebag.

The problem I have with “Wolf”, though, is that it seems empty: Jordan Belfort, DiCaprio’s character, becomes a greedy bag of crap within the first five minutes of the movie, and doesn’t change at all. Even at the end of the movie, after he’s been sent to prison (for three! whole! years!), it is established that he’s still searching for another big score. There’s no redemptive arc to this story, just a horrible man doing horrible things.

Does a movie have to have a redemptive arc to be good? That’s a fair question. Is there a redemptive arc to Henry Hill’s character in “Goodfellas”? I honestly don’t know; I’ve watched about half of “Goodfellas” and need to watch the whole thing again. But it does seem to me that, redemptive arc or no, Henry Hill and his life as a low level underworld hustler is more interesting than Belfort and his hookers and blow and ludes.

I don’t think “Wolf” is a waste of time. But I don’t think it is that good or memorable of a movie, either; maybe three out of five stars, or slightly above average, and a “wait for the DVD” rating.

(I haven’t been able to make the timing work so far, but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to see “American Hustle” either Sunday or Monday. If I have any thoughts on that, I’ll post them here.)

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