The Art of Addiction

Rating: Null/10 (8 January 2014)

For whatever reason, Leonardo DiCaprio really wanted to play Jordan Belfort in a movie; so much so that he went into a bidding war against Brad Pitt's production company and won, though still having to wait several years before being able to convince his long-time counterpart Martin Scorsese to command the helm. Seeing these two names on the marquee certainly stirs the blood up in most people, given their track records both collectively and individually. Indeed, a mere five years removed from what is now becoming known as 'The Great Recession' allows for this material to continue to have relevance in our society. However, this would have been the case regardless because like Oliver Stone's Wall Street and Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story, Hollywood continues to reveal its infatuation with what is perhaps the most ruthless, notorious and powerful area in America.
Honestly, the plot itself is nothing too original. The rise and fall of the protagonist with plenty of drugs, prostitutes, scandal and outrageousness along the way. Scorsese and DiCaprio, as well as writer Terence Winter, knew this all along, even going so far as to mention Gordon Gekko and a few other well-known Wall Street figures. The unique element this film seems to present is its sheer unflinching portrayal of everything excessive and extravagant about this lifestyle, and the self-satisfaction afterward of mission accomplished.
Scorsese has never been a director to pull back and subtly craft his style; he is celebrated for the very reason of his viscerally lavish craft both visual and narrative. Having worked with him more and more, DiCaprio has carefully and steadily grown into perhaps the most fearless American actor today outside of maybe Daniel Day-Lewis. None of his other roles have required such out-of-control insanity, yet he handles it with the sure-fire steadiness of a true professional. Verging on the brink of camp, he always manages to stay right on course, keeping us interested in this character who narrates to the camera in a rather jovial manner of acceptance; he freely admits all his flaws and at times seems amazed at what he was capable of doing. In this film, Jordan Belfort loves the rush of addiction; he is willing to go to any length for any substance or satisfaction. Women, pills, cocaine, alcohol, yachts enormous enough to put a helicopter on top; all this is done with the smug satisfaction of a tested professional. In his own words, Belfort feels he "can spend my clients' money better than they can."
How did Belfort get to this level? Like most memoirs, he has a fall guy: Mark Hanna. Appearing for a mere ten minutes in this three hour marathon, Matthew McConaughey gives a performance that should demonstrate to audiences and executives that he is one of the finest American actors around. No more can we blame him for sappy, empty-headed romantic comedies and the strange satisfaction with constantly taking his shirt off. He has proved himself more than capable in movies like Mud and Dallas Buyers Club, although nothing quite prepared us for this. One scene, one speech to DiCaprio lays out how this film and, perhaps, the brokers themselves view Wall Street, America and the human race in general.
As mentioned before, this film continues to show Hollywood's fascination with the Wall Street broker lifestyle. Is this a cry for help or justification? After all, though they deal in a slightly different trade, it is even more well-known the excessiveness of movie stars and their circles. Maybe it's an affection between kindred spirits. Either way, it shows that once the powers that be begin to descend upon their happy existence, they soon turn upon the very culture and country which made all this possible. Certainly, one can see this and other films like it as an indictment of capitalism gone rogue; figures like Michael Moore will probably spin it that way. Yet, just like in his classic Mafia film Goodfellas, Scorsese prefers to look at people enjoying their addictions. Like his counterpart Henry Hill, Belfort narrates for us plenty of inside information to make us both desire and repulse this type of living. Of course, just desserts must be served. Yet, as many critics have surmised, there is an air of satisfaction from all these characters. Perhaps Belfort wrote his memoirs to prove to himself that he exceeded his own expectations of doing what he set out to do. This does not mean we have to admire him; we can only watch in abject astonishment at the possibilities America has to offer and the obstacles people are willing to scale for them.