Film Review: The Wolf of Wall Street

The Wolf of Wall Street. Rated R18+ (high impact sex scenes and drug use). 179 minutes. Directed by Martin Scorsese. Screenplay by Terence Winter. Based on the book by Jordan Belfort.

Verdict: Vanity project or cautionary tale? You decide.

If there’s a point to this long, raucous and rambling epic about an ambitious young stockbroker’s fall from the dizzying heights of a particular kind of success, it’s difficult to know what it might be.

Through his brokerage firm Stratton Oakmont, Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio at full stretch) ripped off unsuspecting investors in the 1990s. Before he was finally convicted of fraud and jailed, lots of people suffered the consequences; except Belfort it would seem, as he went on to the lucrative international motivational speakers circuit. And why anyone thought that this sordid tale of debauchery, set in the darkest depths of a moral vacuum, should take three hours to tell is a complete mystery.

Problematically, Belfort’s fall from a certain kind of power and influence might be easily considered as unremarkable and equally well-deserved, and it is odd that Scorsese and DiCaprio considered his tale of drug- and sex-crazed indulgence a worthy subject for their fifth cinematic collaboration.

The only revelations are the extraordinary, break-out performance from Australian-born Margot Robbie (Neighbours) as Belfort’s wife Naomi, and an excellent sequence of clowning brilliance as DiCaprio attempts to get back into his car while almost completely paralysed by the effects of a high number of drugs.

Scorsese and Winter (Boardwalk Empire, The Sopranos) take an each-way bet on the extent to which we will care about their fraudster and his eager band of disciples, led by the loyal and enthusiastic Donnie (the always reliable Jonah Hill). DiCaprio plays Belfort as some kind of financial market revolutionary, when in fact, his collision of business misadventures is a good deal less fascinating than the attention this handsomely over-produced film suspects it deserves.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: This is the End

This is The End. Rated MA15+ (strong crude humour, coarse language, sexual references, comedic violence, nudity and drug use). 107 minutes. Written and directed by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg.

Verdict: One for the boys.

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, Seth Rogen (The Green Hornet, Pineapple Express, Superbad, Da Ali G Show) and his gang of (mostly) B-Grade Hollywood celebrities have a field day sending themselves, their employers and the doomsday genre up mercilessly with this rough and ready outing into vanity film-making. How they get away with it (and what their managers might think) is anyone’s guess – especially in the case of James Franco, who risks never being taken seriously in a movie again.

When Rogen’s friend Jay Baruchel (How to Train Your Dragon, She's Out of My League, Million Dollar Baby) comes to stay for a weekend in LA, the best buddies end up at a wild party at James Franco’s (Oz the Great and Powerful, 127 Hours) house where the guests include Emma Watson (Harry Potter’s Hermione Granger), Jonah Hill (Moneyball, Get Him to The Greek) and Rihanna. But when Judgement Day arrives, the fun and games are seriously turned upside down.

On one level, This is The End is a massive ego-trip made by a bunch of actors that many audience members will struggle to recognise – and if you haven’t seen their similarly styled breakout project Pineapple Express, a good percentage of the film will sail right over your head. But it’s precisely the extent of their collective conceit that also provides the film with its peculiar attractiveness. If you can get past the almost prehistoric premise that these actors are playing themselves, it ends up being a snide, funny, crass, breath of fresh air with genuine laughs, a couple of jump-out-of-your-seat frights, and some fabulously over-the-top visual effects.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: 21 Jump Street

21 Jump Street. Rated MA 15+ (strong violence, crude humour, coarse language and drug use). 109 minutes. Directed by Phil Lord and Chris Miller. Screenplay by Michael Bacall.

Verdict: This lame, sluggish, patchy affair all goes downhill even faster after the Johnny Depp cameo appearance.

Playing fast and loose with the iconic television drama series (pictured) on which it is based, 21 Jump Street certainly has its moments – few and far between though they are. Where the series (1987–1991) focussed on relevant and topical issues of the day, this big screen version goes entirely for laughs and, with a couple of exceptions, misses them by a wide margin.

Film Review: Moneyball

Moneyball. Rated M (coarse language). 133 minutes. Directed by Bennett Miller. Screenplay by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin. Based on the book by Michael Lewis.

Well-made films, that there has been a diabolical dearth of this year, are becoming increasingly rare beasts. In their place, we’ve had mostly empty-headed and soulless action flicks and laughter-less romantic comedies. A kind of Diet Cinema.

So it’s almost impossible to know whether the superbly scripted, directed, designed and acted Moneyball is really the cream-filled, strawberry jam-topped lamington it feels like – or whether it shines more luminously in comparison to most of the green bean salads we’ve been served up this year.

General Manager Billy Beane’s (Brad Pitt) baseball team, The Oakland Athletics, is failing. His best players are being poached by other clubs with offers of more money than the club’s owner can match. With the help of a super-smart mathematics nerd Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), Beane sets out to play the man, not the salary cap.

Based on a true story, Zaillian (Schindler’s List, Gangs of New York) and Sorkin’s (The Social Network, The West Wing, A Few Good Men, Sports Night) screenplay achieves the almost impossible task of making the behind-the-scenes machinations of a baseball league absolutely compelling. Focussed on personal as much as professional ambitions, Mr Miller (Capote) elicits outstanding performances from his cast – with Pitt delivering one of the least showy and most involving performances of his career.

Jonah Hill (Get Him to the Greek) is superb as his jovial baseball and software-addicted sidekick, while Chris Pratt (pictured) is equally good as Scott Hatteberg, one of the washed-up players given a second chance to shine on the team.

Ultimately, what absolutely works about Moneyball is the grand and timely theme of believing that goodness – if not greatness – can sometimes be found in people who others have discarded as worthless.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Get him to The Greek

Get him to The Greek. 109 minutes. MA15+. Written and directed by Nicholas Stoller, from the Forgetting Sarah Marshall characters created by Jason Segel.

The world of rock ‘n’ roll – both onstage and behind the scenes – has resulted in a veritable goldmine of unforgettable films including A Hard Day's Night, The Rose, Almost Famous and This Is Spinal Tap. Something deep within the abyss between the drug-addled, booze-soaked, carnivalesque existence of rock musicians and the inspirational and unique concert performances that feed their souls, can fire an audience’s imagination like little else.

With his latest song and music video “African Child” labelled "the worst thing to happen to Africa since apartheid" and then banned, Aldous Snow (Russell Brand, pictured on the right) suddenly finds his previously lucrative career charting toward oblivion. Meanwhile, Pinnacle Records talent scout Aaron Green (Jonah Hill, pictured left) remembers a time when Snow was a big star. When Pinnacle boss Sergio (Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs, pictured in the background) charges him with delivering the luckless Snow to the Los Angeles concert venue “The Greek” for a comeback concert, Aaron must race against the clock to ensure Snow makes it onstage for the most important gig of their lives.

With lashings of irreverent charm and laugh-out-loud hilarity, Get him to The Greek is a refreshingly unpretentious gem that plays it big, vulgar and broad from start to finish. The fantastic cast make absolute meals out of Stoller’s wicked screenplay, with Brand (who first played Aldous Snow in 2008’s Forgetting Sarah Marshall), turning in a powerhouse performance as the bewildered, recalcitrant rock star. Hill is magical as the earnest but determined young talent scout, and it is this unlikely pairing that provides the film with its big-hearted, Laurel and Hardy-esque core.

Australian actress Rose Byrne does some of her best work to date as Snow’s girlfriend ‘Jackie Q’ – revealing a flawless talent for perfectly-timed comedy, while Elisabeth Moss (Peggy Olsen in Mad Men) is equally ideal as Aaron’s girlfriend ‘Daphne’. Cinematographer Robert Yeoman (Whip It) keeps us deliciously on the spot with all the action, while William Kerr and Michael Sale’s (both back from Forgetting Sarah Marshall) editing ensures the film clips along at a marvellously engaging pace.

While Stoller’s skilful and assured guiding hand certainly holds the hedonistic and narcissistic rock star world to account with some brilliant observational comedy (the 'African Child' music video and the Today Show sequence in New York are just two brilliant examples), he does so with genuine affection for the very human element that ties it all together – honesty. Yes, there is the universality of music and its power to unite us in a rare and uncommon ecstasy – but there is also the attendant power to exploit our unconditional surrender to its multi-faceted intrigues.

As Get him to The Greek powers along to the possibility of a big concert conclusion, it unexpectedly reveals itself to also be concerned with the importance and value of honesty – both to oneself and each other. As our rock star idols take to the stage and perform, they do so with the purest of intentions: to create and share with us the power of a thrillingly raw, loud and inhibition-shedding connection with honesty – both in the music and of the moment.

This review was commissioned by the Geraldton Newspapers Group and was published in the print edition of the Geraldton Guardian.