Scorsese proposes the true story of a financial shark and his sumptuous empire devoted to illegality, fictionalizing it with an explosion of hedonism that takes center stage but at the same time separates the useful from the pleasant.
self-made man, he chases the American dream riding a caterpillar, demolishing his own integrity, both moral and physical, family affections, friendships and, above all, the life savings that many Americans had put aside with sacrifice. But just when the dream is at the peak of its materialization, the abrupt awakening occurs, because, as Jordan's irascible father reminds us, sooner or later all the knots come to a head.
Since school In primary school, teachers teach students that the gift of synthesis is a fundamental requirement. Yet, today, judging by the massive production of needlessly verbose films, American cinema seems to want to overturn this very dangerous cliché and The Wolf of Wall Street is a candidate for an Oscar as a shining example of this trend. In the beginning the comparison between Jordan and his mentor Mark misleads the spectator who, convinced that he is witnessing the merciless criticism of the mechanisms of high finance peppered with a few notes of colour, is suddenly overwhelmed by a horde of flesh in perpetual convulsion under a deluge of cocaine and Quaaludes. Perhaps the director wants to focus attention on the psychological-social short circuits generated by economic success, so much so that Jordan suddenly looks straight into the camera trying to convince the viewer that it is not that important to explain how his financial schemes work. It's a shame that there are no conditions to empathize with the characters, faded specks incapable of emerging from the whirlwind of events and making us reflect on the contradictions of their lives. Could it simply be a film about drug addiction? No, not even. The further we go, the more confused and approximate the representation flows, filled with accessory scenes designed to satisfy the ventral needs of the spectators. The picture is completed by far-fetched and inconclusive gags (the kiss with the old aunt), forced quotes (the yacht sinks Titanic style while Di Caprio embraces his "Rose") and, last but not least, the chilling scene which in a few seconds concentrates the entire world heritage of stereotypes about Italians: a crew that eats and sings while dancing tarantolato. The final result? A film without an identity that wants to overdo it and which on the one hand, perhaps, is not boring, on the other it is no more compelling than a well-rehearsed minestrone.
Martin Scorsese winks at Baz Luhrmann ( The Great Gatsby, 2013) and makes the camera twirl among orgiastic crowds in the throes of perdition. Every tool is valid for performing, from slow motion to flashback. However, the sensation of the playful effect as an end in itself remains. Of course, DiCaprio still remains in top form and is so convincing as to be almost dangerous when he makes a despicable individual magnetic and seductive. But these are not the actor's choices and if I really had to recommend watching it to someone I would turn to the die-hard fans of the good Leo. The others are invited to choose one of the many themes treated superficially in this film and to explore it in depth with more targeted and effective works: Wall Street (Oliver Stone, 1987) regarding finance and life as a broker, Shame (Steve McQueen, 2011) if you are interested in the psychological implications of sex overdose in the contemporary age and Requiem for a dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000) <3 >to address the scourge of addiction in its darkest implications.
self-made man, he chases the American dream riding a caterpillar, demolishing his own integrity, both moral and physical, family affections, friendships and, above all, the life savings that many Americans had put aside with sacrifice. But just when the dream is at the peak of its materialization, the abrupt awakening occurs, because, as Jordan's irascible father reminds us, sooner or later all the knots come to a head.
Since school In primary school, teachers teach students that the gift of synthesis is a fundamental requirement. Yet, today, judging by the massive production of needlessly verbose films, American cinema seems to want to overturn this very dangerous cliché and The Wolf of Wall Street is a candidate for an Oscar as a shining example of this trend. In the beginning the comparison between Jordan and his mentor Mark misleads the spectator who, convinced that he is witnessing the merciless criticism of the mechanisms of high finance peppered with a few notes of colour, is suddenly overwhelmed by a horde of flesh in perpetual convulsion under a deluge of cocaine and Quaaludes. Perhaps the director wants to focus attention on the psychological-social short circuits generated by economic success, so much so that Jordan suddenly looks straight into the camera trying to convince the viewer that it is not that important to explain how his financial schemes work. It's a shame that there are no conditions to empathize with the characters, faded specks incapable of emerging from the whirlwind of events and making us reflect on the contradictions of their lives. Could it simply be a film about drug addiction? No, not even. The further we go, the more confused and approximate the representation flows, filled with accessory scenes designed to satisfy the ventral needs of the spectators. The picture is completed by far-fetched and inconclusive gags (the kiss with the old aunt), forced quotes (the yacht sinks Titanic style while Di Caprio embraces his "Rose") and, last but not least, the chilling scene which in a few seconds concentrates the entire world heritage of stereotypes about Italians: a crew that eats and sings while dancing tarantolato. The final result? A film without an identity that wants to overdo it and which on the one hand, perhaps, is not boring, on the other it is no more compelling than a well-rehearsed minestrone.
Martin Scorsese winks at Baz Luhrmann ( The Great Gatsby, 2013) and makes the camera twirl among orgiastic crowds in the throes of perdition. Every tool is valid for performing, from slow motion to flashback. However, the sensation of the playful effect as an end in itself remains. Of course, DiCaprio still remains in top form and is so convincing as to be almost dangerous when he makes a despicable individual magnetic and seductive. But these are not the actor's choices and if I really had to recommend watching it to someone I would turn to the die-hard fans of the good Leo. The others are invited to choose one of the many themes treated superficially in this film and to explore it in depth with more targeted and effective works: Wall Street (Oliver Stone, 1987) regarding finance and life as a broker, Shame (Steve McQueen, 2011) if you are interested in the psychological implications of sex overdose in the contemporary age and Requiem for a dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000) <3 >to address the scourge of addiction in its darkest implications.
