Films with unpleasant protagonists include The Social Network, whose central character Mark Zuckerberg is both described as “an asshole” and as someone trying very hard to be “an asshole”, as well as The Killer Inside Me whose protagonist Lou Ford is violent, psychopathic and misogynistic, which led to the film and its director being criticised. Martin Scorsese's The Wolf of Wall Street has also been attacked for its uncritical portrayal of the ruthless stockbroker Jordan Belfort as well as its potential misogyny. I disagree with these criticisms because they are too easy, a superficial reaction to the film that suggests an assumed moral superiority on the part of the critic. What The Wolf of Wall Street does do, however, is perform an interesting engagement with moral superiority precisely by eschewing such superiority on its own part. By refusing to offer a simplistic condemnation of the people, events and ideology it portrays, the film invites self-reflexivity on the part of the viewer in relation to their own reactions.
As a piece of cinema, The Wolf of Wall Street is more sedate than might be expected of Martin Scorsese, a director often associated with a plethora of stylistic techniques – see Raging Bull, Goodfellas, The Departed and Hugo for use of slow motion, whip pans, crash-zooms, pin holes, etc. By contrast, The Wolf of Wall Street uses little or no inflection in its presentation of the narrative, while the dialogue scenes are remarkably long, the actors given time and space to develop their performances. As a result, the traits and flaws of the characters are depicted in exquisite detail, especially the protagonist, Jordan Belfort. Jordan powerhouses his way through money, drugs, prostitutes, clients, friends, wives, and authorities with scant or no regard for consequences. While Jordan is utterly loathsome, he is never less than compelling, a hugely charismatic and enthralling presence so utterly committed to excessive consumption that he is practically a personification of unmitigated capitalism.
The film’s
attitude towards the excess it depicts is neither condemnatory nor celebratory,
and in its most interesting moments invites self-reflective responses from the
audience, which are worth considering in detail. An early scene features Jordan
demonstrating his sales technique to his employees on a customer he has
cold-called. As he progresses through his sales spiel, with his disciples
watching in delight, Jordan simulates unbuttoning his trousers and making a
sexual conquest of his customer/victim, effectively a sexual assault. The parallel
between sexual and financial success is obvious, as is the glee of Jordan’s
followers, but the cinematography places the audience in a peculiar position.
The camera is placed in a position approximate to the speaker phone that Jordan
talks to, so the viewer is looking up at the stockbrokers who appear large and
looming, especially the super-potent Jordan. While the sequence does not
feature Jordan directly addressing the camera, as occurs at other points during
the movie, the shot effectively positions the viewer in the position of the
customer that Jordan is effectively raping. The shot therefore places the
viewer in the position of the victim of Jordan’s ruthless capitalism. In the
current climate of financial hardship and massive resentment towards financial
institutions, The Wolf of Wall Street
presents the violation of customers like ourselves.
One of the reasons
this sequence is so funny is precisely that Jordan is horrible, hateful,
selfish and greedy, and it is amusing to see that the mighty have fallen. It is
similar to scenes in The Simpsons
based around Mr Burns being (literally) weaker than a baby. Burns is the
wealthiest and most powerful man in Springfield, but cannot pull a teddy bear
from the grip of Maggie Simpson. Similarly, Jordan has more money and success
than the average cinema-goer could ever conceive of, but cannot even walk. The
scene is funny as a piece of slapstick comedy, Jordan’s roll down the country
club stairs tantamount to a pratfall, but there is also a darker element to this
comedy – ha ha, this super-rich scumbag looks stupid.
Things become simultaneously
funnier and more sinister when Donnie tries to eat and starts choking, and I
genuinely thought he was going to die – but I was still laughing (and I wasn’t
the only one). It was funny to see this greedy, selfish and fairly stupid man
getting himself into a situation where his own excess might kill him, but on
reflection, this is a rather disturbing reaction to have. As a moral being, I
feel sympathy and empathy for someone in dire straights, or at least I like to
believe I do. But when the person in dire straights is contemptible, their distress might become a source of amusement.
Of course, comedy
deaths are a common feature in films, one of the most famous being in Pulp Fiction: “You shot Marvin in the
face!” Others include the increasingly ludicrous moments in From Dusk Till Dawn, the wackiness of Pineapple Express and the repeated
(futile) attempts at suicide in Groundhog Day. These deaths are mostly for the purposes of spectacle, comedic in
their surprise appearances or repetition. Donnie’s choking, combined with
Jordan’s own difficulties, is something else. The prolonged nature of the
sequence is significant, the distress of Jordan and Donnie protracted for
maximum effect. But pause for self-reflection here: if the viewer sees these
people as despicable because of their disregard for anyone else, this is because
the viewer thinks themselves “better”, more sympathetic, not so callous. But surely
a “better” person should have sympathy for someone in trouble. Jordan,
ironically, does have sympathy, as he
saves his friend’s life by expelling the blockage (once he takes the cocaine
necessary to overcome his paralysis), but the audience laughed at it. This mirth
creates a critique of the viewer’s own self-satisfaction in being better than
these loathsome characters, suggesting that the viewer is not so much better
than the characters after all. Very subtly, The
Wolf of Wall Street uses its non-judgemental treatment of its subject
matter to prompt self-reflection of the audience’s reactions.
The final scene of
the film also prompts self-reflection, in an interesting reversal of the
earlier speakerphone scene. This final scene features Jordan released from
prison and delivering a sales technique seminar in New Zealand. Justice has
certainly not prevailed, as although Jordan was incarcerated it seems rich
people go to a better style of prison, so we see him playing tennis as though
at a country club. If that’s not enough to make you angry, we see him earning yet
more money at these seminars. He demonstrates a technique that the viewer will
recognise from earlier in the film, but the seminar attendees of course do not.
Their faces are eager and expectant, as they anticipate the wisdom of Jordan Belfort.
Jordan demonstrates a simple sales premise: he hands
a pen to an audience member and asks them to sell it to him. In a much earlier
scene one of Jordan’s friends, Brad had mocked the stock market by demonstrating the same very simple technique:
JORDAN
[Handing Brad a pen]
Sell me this pen.
BRAD
Write this down.
JORDAN
I don’t have a pen.
BRAD
Let me sell you this one.
The seminar
attendees try crude and obvious ways to sell the pen, such as saying how nice
it is and that it writes, and as each one fumbles Jordan moves onto the next.
As he does so, the film cuts to a reverse shot of the seminar audience, and
this final shot of the film pans up to capture the faces of the rest of the
seminar audience, who look remarkably like a cinema audience.
 |
| The Wolf of Wall Street, dir. Martin Scorsese (2013) |
This final moment is the film’s strongest invitation for the viewer to engage in self-critique. The cinema audience have the sales knowledge of Jordan Belfort and could use it – doubtless many of the film’s viewers (myself included) work in sales, stocks and finance. Through the shot of the seminar audience, effectively a reflection of the cinema audience, the film asks the viewer how they would use this knowledge. Belfort’s life was certainly successful both in a monetary sense and in terms of personal satisfaction. The film does not condemn its protagonist, but the viewer certainly can out of a sense of righteous indignation. The film’s unbalanced presentation helps us to do this, because we do not see the people who lost money as a result of Jordan and his company. The film directs the viewer’s attention on Jordan because we have no one else to engage with, and the movie’s portrayal of his excess, selfishness and potential Otherness invites judgement, condemnation and mirth, but at the same time, offers the viewer a reflection of themselves.
The Wolf of Wall Street therefore invites the viewer to see a parallel between themselves and these despicable men who profit from and take pride and amusement in swindling their clients. Furthermore, I have only identified one possible response to the film – there may well be other viewers who envy Jordan and would seek to emulate him, even if it means becoming as unpleasant as him. But whatever the viewer’s response, the cinema audience sit in eager anticipation, mirroring the seminar audience. The blame for the current financial climate is largely placed upon bankers and financial wheeler dealers like Jordan Belfort, but The Wolf of Wall Street invites the viewer to take a look at themselves, suggesting that the credit crunch and the recession cannot simply be blamed on individuals whose excess is far beyond the dreams of avarice. The final sequence draws the viewer closer, reducing the protagonist’s aura of Otherness and asking if the “poor-but-proud” attitude is quite so genuine. Unpleasant protagonists can be a barrier to engaging with a text, but in this case, a hateful central character is a route to finding the film’s self-reflective quality.
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