Watch Out for This Wolf, Little Red Riding Hood

If his previous films weren't proof enough, The Wolf of Wall Street provides sufficient evidence of Martin Scorsese's cinematic prowess. It is shocking that he made three hours in a theater seat literally "fly by", and even more shocking the things this film manipulated my mind to feel.

The Wolf of Wall Street chronicles the life of Jordan Belfort, albeit to an exaggerated degree (I hope to God, anyhow), the real-life New York swindling stock broker millionaire. He earned those millions by taking advantage of unsuspecting players in the stock market game and swindled the bills on countless hookers, enough drugs to tranquilize a pack of overweight elephants, multiple houses, a yacht... you get the picture. Some critics feel that this film glorifies such a lifestyle but I think they are missing the subtleties that make up the point- it is simply, in my opinion, a portrayal of a macho, testosterone-driven, shallow lifestyle somehow made acceptable by our society.

By some miraculous film miracle, I actually found myself empathizing with Belfort despite his uncountable list of heinous deeds. His partner, played by Jonah Hill, was only slightly less monstrous, yet I found myself "touched" by their strangely deep friendship. As Belfort would say, it's some "f***ed up s***" (actually, he would have sprinkled the phrase with a "c word" or two) to feel that way. That's the magic of good screenwriting coupled with convincing acting.

The cast of this film was bizarre. Random actors and actresses from movies dominating my childhood (Uncle Vernon from Harry Potter, one of the weird aunts from James and the Giant Peach, the main guy from that show where he got the newspaper one day early and saved people who died in the articles, etc.) kept popping up in the film. Everyone played their part perfectly, most notably our dear Mr. DiCaprio. What a loathsome embodiment of testosterone not even attempting to hide his filthy core... I can't stand that Belfort is not a concoction of the imagination.

A sign on the ticket counter warned me that The Wolf of Wall Street well-earned its R rating what with the pervasive language, frequent full-frontal nudity, sex, drug-use, blah-dee-blah. Yes. True. This film is not for the faint of heart. If you don't want to watch Leonardo DiCaprio throw little people at a dart board, beat up his wife, and snort line after line of cocaine through 100 dollar bills (often off the body parts of naked prostitutes) sometimes will already under the influence of quaaludes all while screaming every profanity you can imagine, skip this movie. But if you think there is even the slightest chance you can handle it, it is WELL worthwhile. It gets off to a running start and never really pauses until it beautifully wraps up after, as I said, three full hours, and it never skips a beat. Plus, they teach you all about quaaludes- I can't imagine all the useful things I can do with that newfound knowledge.

See- he really throws a little person at a dartboard... 

The Average Gatsby

I just felt very proud of that blog title, despite the likelihood that I am not the first to have thought of it. I like to think of myself as an original, like Werther's. I really hope you all get that reference.

I am about to give away the entire plot to The Great Gatsby, so if you are like the 90% of students who did not actually read the book when they were supposed to and didn't read it when you went through a post-college classic literature phase, you may want to skip reading on. If you are one of the aforementioned individuals AND have a sick sense of literary masochism, then by all means charge on. Just don't get all offended about me putting oh-so-terrible spoilers in my blog. You have been warned like a cigarette smoker (have you seen those carton warnings these days??).

My particular teachers growing up never actually required that their students read The Great Gatsby. After reading the book in my later years, I was thankful for this- I was irritated enough by Daisy when in my twenties and able to contain my ire- I probably would have lost it Christian Bale style had I read of her obnoxious antics in my teens. Carey Mulligan (one of my major Hollywood girl crushes) captured the irritating naivety of Daisy, the love interest of J. Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio, my Hollywood guy crush), perfectly. I know this because I wanted to wring her stupid little neck and beat some sense into her. She has Leo pining for her and seeking his fortune so he can feel worthy of her love and spend the rest of his life with her, and how does she repay him? She kills a woman with his car and lets him take the blame which gets him revenge-murdered (one of the worst kinds of murdered. Gotta love those crimes of passion). Nice gal. I guess the major takeaway from that is don't let hysterical women drive cars after they have been drinking.

Cinematically, Gatsby, directed by Baz Luhrmann, was very Luhrmann-esque. Anyone who has seen Moulin Rouge ought to know exactly what I mean by that invented adjective. Vibrant colors splashed in every scene and hip hop music completely out of place given the time period are plenty to induce a migraine on their own- throw in the 3D element and we are talking epileptic seizure-inducing. I saw it in good ol' fashioned 2D and trust me- it was more than enough.

Worth seeing? Sure, why not. I've seen worse. Worth paying $9 for? Probably not. Will it piss off loyal fans of the book? What movie based on a book doesn't?

You don't get a guy like that murdered. What a witch with a B.