The Wolf Of Wall Street – Film review by Helena Kealey
The Wolf of Wall Street has been marketed as a comedy but it is an unusually black one.
It crawls over the debauched and immoral life of Jordon Belfort – played by Leonardo DiCaprio – a New York stock broker who clambers his way up the socio-economic rigging into a world of limitless prostitutes (many of them full-frontally nude on screen) drugs, and every imaginable excess.
His climb is also his fall, as, between riffs of expletives (the characters use the F-word more than 500 times) enviable cars, lush yachts and crashed helicopters, Belfort manipulates the market, launders money and trails his coat before the FBI.
“This is America!” screams Belfort during one of his regular motivational talks to employees, whose ever-expanding ranks occupy ever-increasing acres of office space as they blindly, greedily and brutishly worship at the altar of the prophet who taught them to wield the telephones with which to defraud their investors.
Belfort’s employees, who are selected for their lack of intelligence, education or decency, know on which side their bread is bonused.
This is a spectacular film welcoming back the power of the director Martin Scorsese.
Heady and addictive, the three hours of film flash before you in a whirl of cars, sex and women.
It’s one big high. You must watch it.