The Wolf of Wall Street
Go! Get high on Scorsese's supply.
Getting rich gets wild.
Scientists, films and rock star autobiographies have told us that cocaine can make you feel on top of the world. It also raises your body’s temperature and makes your heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird. And when the effects start to wear off, the comedown will bring you suddenly thudding down to earth.
It is no coincidence that these are the same effects as those offered by Martin Scorsese's drug-addled epic, The Wolf of Wall Street; but pleasingly without the high price tag, danger to nasal septums or the risk of incarceration. The portrayal of the 80's lifestyle of wicked Wall Street trader, Jordan Belfort - a raging double-breasted bull of stocks and shares - is fuelled by the white powder; and over its three-hours (yes, literally 180 minutes) of running time, you will experience a sustained, fully-legal high that is rare in modern cinema.
It is no coincidence that these are the same effects as those offered by Martin Scorsese's drug-addled epic, The Wolf of Wall Street; but pleasingly without the high price tag, danger to nasal septums or the risk of incarceration. The portrayal of the 80's lifestyle of wicked Wall Street trader, Jordan Belfort - a raging double-breasted bull of stocks and shares - is fuelled by the white powder; and over its three-hours (yes, literally 180 minutes) of running time, you will experience a sustained, fully-legal high that is rare in modern cinema.
Belfort's story is one of insatiable greed, unending excess, tremendous success and agonising failure. Throw some midgets (quite literally) into the mix; yachts, helicopters and prostitutes (of varying calibre); and we have the potential for a potent, whizzy cocktail. While this tale could so easily have been a mere gratuitous, blingy romp, Martin Scorsese is, without argument, a film-making genius; so it's no surprise that The Wolf of Wall Street is instead tremendous. In his hands, you will easily embrace a steaming heap of repugnant characters; and be whisked along by a thrilling, dark, outrageous and uproarious saga that is more akin to the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, than the rise and fall of a dodgy trader. The film is richly enrobed in Scorsese's 40-year history of film-making artistry and bites with the gripping and gritty gnaw of 1970s American cinema that made that era so laudable.
While Scorsese is the dealer through his euphoric direction, he is (again) selling Di Caprio as his addictive drug of choice. It is his incredibly committed performance as Belfort that will take you into an ecstatic state of prolonged inebriation. In this vein, it would be hard to imagine anyone better in the role than the man who with each film is staking his claim to being the finest American actor of his generation. Every emotion from the human catalogue is on display, and although the pages are turned quickly and erratically, like a flick-book in the hands of a small child, Leo meets the pace with vigour and accelerates it. Beyond that, he offers some truly impressive physical acting, particularly in a scene that will leave you in gob-smacked, joyous awe. And it is not only Leo that injects such a moreish performance into the incessantly pounding flow of this film. Jonah Hill (earning his second Academy Award nomination) tickles as Belfort's fizzy business sidekick; former Neighbours star, Margot Robbie (About Time), gleams with seductive, fiery menace as Belfort's much-maligned wife; while an early cameo by Matthew McConaughey as Belfort's mentor threatens to steal the entire show.
Although nominated, it is unlikely to claim the Best Picture Award at the Oscars; if nothing else by virtue of the fact that the word "f***" and its derivatives are reportedly used 506 times, and the Academy tends to be more prudish than 2.83 "f***s" per minute (fpm) would seem to allow. Nonetheless, that doesn't detract from how fantastic this film is, and Di Caprio and Hill are still both strong and worthy contenders for acting awards.
So kids, don't do drugs. Instead, score some Scorsese and go see The Wolf of Wall Street. Trust me - you'll love it so much that even after three hours of highs and lows, you'll still be yearning and begging for one more debauched hit.
Although nominated, it is unlikely to claim the Best Picture Award at the Oscars; if nothing else by virtue of the fact that the word "f***" and its derivatives are reportedly used 506 times, and the Academy tends to be more prudish than 2.83 "f***s" per minute (fpm) would seem to allow. Nonetheless, that doesn't detract from how fantastic this film is, and Di Caprio and Hill are still both strong and worthy contenders for acting awards.
So kids, don't do drugs. Instead, score some Scorsese and go see The Wolf of Wall Street. Trust me - you'll love it so much that even after three hours of highs and lows, you'll still be yearning and begging for one more debauched hit.
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