No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent,
a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friend's
or of thine own were:
any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee.
Meditation #17 by John Donne from Devotions upon Emergent Occasions (1623)
A sage, yet, ofttimes raffish Hollywood actor once told me, “Every time an actor swears on screen, it’s not just an insult to himself, but to his audience.” In this regard, THE WOLF OF WALL STREET could be lauded as the most insulting film release of 2013 for its monumentally profound use of profanity, most particularly, the abbreviated acronym of “for unlawful carnal knowledge”. Add to this the film’s relentlessly bacchanalian display of onscreen nudity, group/marathon sex, drug and alcohol abuse that it’s an abundantly clear assessment that the needle of the film's (and filmmakers’) moral compass has severely snapped. And the only thing epic about the film is its running time (180 minutes), just four minutes shy of that of the theatrical premiere of Stanley Kubrick’s SPARTACUS (1960) and twelve minutes longer than Nicholas Ray’s KING OF KINGS (1961); even fifteen minutes longer than Cecil B. Demille’s theatrical premiere of THE KING OF KINGS (1927).
Director of Photography, Rodrigo Prieto adds a visual gloss to an otherwise lamentable motion picture from contemporary Hollywood royalty: Director, Martin Scorsese, and his collaborative muse/Actor/producing partner who invokes crooked huckster, Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio), the film’s eponymous Wolf of Wall Street. Unfortunately, an attractive-looking movie does not a good film make. In the case of THE WOLF OF WALL STREET, Mr. Prieto achieved exactly what he was hired to do: photograph a work that offers glossily polished incentives on the outside yet is heavily tarnished on the inside. For instance, under close examination of the goldenrod hue of the title block hovering above DiCaprio’s dome on the film’s poster, this so-called brick of gold more aptly equates to a brick of projector-expelled, cinematic excrement - - fool’s gold, indeed - - or if you’ll appreciate the homophonous nature of the sedative-hypnotic, methaqualone (Quaalude), used as frequently, effortlessly and carelessly by the film’s protagonists, THE WOLF OF WALL STREET is downright lewd. Let me count the ways …
American theatrical poster for THE WOLF OF WALL STREET (2013)
and lobby card for THE WOLF OF WALL STREET (1929)
No stranger to early talkies and a passionate patriot for film preservation, it would appear that this filmed version, similar to Rowland V. Lee’s THE WOLF OF WALL STREET (1929) which also features a devious manipulator of stocks, a dose of infidelity, trading of insider information (of both the copper market and characters’ unfaithfulness) and climactic financial ruin, would have poised Mr. Scorsese for a profitable prospect, not to mention being cinematic kismet intersecting with the memoir on which his film is based, Jordan Belfort’s “The Wolf of Wall Street”; incidentally, of whom the author shares nearly identical first-and-last-name initialed branding with the original 1929 feature’s protagonist, Jim Bradford (George Bancroft). But in investment circles, not to mention the film industry-at-large, one might regard Scorsese’s film as a reputational risk. Whereas Bradford boasted of his reputation as a wolf (and a fox), Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) was initially enraged upon reading how Forbes magazine dubbed him as “a kind of twisted Robin Hood who takes from the rich and gives to himself and his merry band of brokers” employed at his office of Stratton Oakmont. Stockbroker takes on an interesting perspective in this sense with regards to how Belfort and his troops literally break stocks versus one who typically buys and sells stocks and securities for customers and other entities.
Nevertheless and for the sake of Mr. Scorsese’s filmed entertainment, Belfort believes that even bad press is good press when in the film, Aliyha Farran (Sandra Nelson) denigrates Jordan in her Forbes article wherein she inscribes the moniker, “The Wolf of Wall Street” (however, there is no mention of this in Roula Khalaf’s original, factual, Monday, October 14, 1991 Forbes magazine article, “On the Margin”) which proceeds to open the flood gates for new employment applicants in addition to a bevy of paid escorts or as Belfort demeans them in increasing order of quality - - “pink sheets” (or “skanks” who’d cost $100 per person and would require one receiving a penicillin shot after performing if one didn’t wear a condom); “NASDAQS” (“pretty, not great” valued between $200-$300/person) and “blue chips” (“top-of-the-line, model material” with whom one would have to wear a condom “unless you gave a hefty tip” and who cost around $300-$500/person) - - who storm Stratton’s office likened to a modern-day Sodom or Gomorrah and likewise, by the climax, will be destroyed by the proper authorities. Belfort engages in a three-plus hour festival of unrestrained merrymaking certain to whet the appetite of anyone who finds solace in endeavoring to consume a movie of men behaving very badly. Within the film’s first two-and-a-half minutes, Belfort’s voiceover narration literally orders the audience to return its penile appendage “back in your pants” immediately isolating any suggestion of a female spectator and thus, engaging in an unending stream of cinematic misogyny, unless of course, one has undergone transsexual surgery - - but assuming this is not the case, Scorsese & Company have exposed their hand and it’s safe to say they’re catering to a strictly male audience.
As soon as Belfort’s band of merry men are assembled - - Donnie “Diamond” Azoff (Jonah Hill); Brad (Jon Bernthal); Nicky “Rugrat” Koskoff (P.J. Byrne); Chester “the depraved Chinaman” Ming (Kenneth Choi); Robbie “Pinhead” Feinberg (Brian Sacca) and Alden “Sea Otter” Kupferberg (Henry Zebrowski) - - they go into battle wielding a telephone and a patented script (a “harpoon”) c/o Belfort dubbed a “Kodak pitch” to dispatch a whale (“Moby Dick”): by first offering a legitimate blue chip stock to a gullible investor, they next lead into an over-the-counter, higher-margin, garbage stock where their rewards are eventually reaped.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing, Belfort performs the introductory pitch over speaker phone by fleecing his way into an investor’s wallet with Jordan’s eager-to-learn staff of salesmen-cum-(penny)stockbrokers in the background desperately and childishly holding back laughter as Belfort simultaneously manipulates a sexual act of bending a partner over and preparing to fornicate in front of them as he’s about to close the deal with his hesitant prey on the other end of the line. Within moments, their first customer succumbs to Belfort’s terms, Jordan immediately flashes not one, but two middle fingers to the phone (and, incidentally, the audience!!) as resounding cheers and guffaws are unleashed from the peanut gallery of Stratton Oakmont’s Senior Vice Presidents as Belfort disconnects the call (with his middle finger) and cuts short his investor’s next line of dialogue. I liken this act of seduction to any award-honoring body so easily deceived by the cinematic provocations being pushed by Scorsese & Co. who’d be gullible enough to praise such a work and would like to remind them of this scene - - particularly, of these middle fingers.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing, Belfort performs the introductory pitch over speaker phone by fleecing his way into an investor’s wallet with Jordan’s eager-to-learn staff of salesmen-cum-(penny)stockbrokers in the background desperately and childishly holding back laughter as Belfort simultaneously manipulates a sexual act of bending a partner over and preparing to fornicate in front of them as he’s about to close the deal with his hesitant prey on the other end of the line. Within moments, their first customer succumbs to Belfort’s terms, Jordan immediately flashes not one, but two middle fingers to the phone (and, incidentally, the audience!!) as resounding cheers and guffaws are unleashed from the peanut gallery of Stratton Oakmont’s Senior Vice Presidents as Belfort disconnects the call (with his middle finger) and cuts short his investor’s next line of dialogue. I liken this act of seduction to any award-honoring body so easily deceived by the cinematic provocations being pushed by Scorsese & Co. who’d be gullible enough to praise such a work and would like to remind them of this scene - - particularly, of these middle fingers.
Hook, line and sinker … Belfort & Co. taking down their first prey (an investor, the audience, etc.).
“There’s a sucker born every minute”, a phrase often erroneously credited to Phineas Taylor (a.k.a. P.T.) Barnum, a master showman and founder of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, may have been misconstrued where Barnum is concerned. Those close to him later advised that he’d more customarily effect because of his good nature, “there’s a customer born every minute”. Not where Belfort is concerned, however. Belfort’s big top of Stratton Oakmont operated out of the ironically named Lake Success, New York opens up for another cinematic misnomer of THE WOLF OF WALL STREET: that Belfort’s office wasn’t even situated on Wall Street but about thirty minutes outside of Manhattan.
At the onset of the film, the visual landscape, or, as it’s narrated, “the world of investing can be a jungle”; yet, this jungle of bulls, bears and a lion (the latter of which is stunningly featured in a Stratton Oakmont commercial which opens the film) transforms into a circus where creatures (like his equally aggressive employees whom Belfort dubs his “killers”) are trained (domesticated) by Belfort who cunningly and seductively conjures the essence of a latter-day P.T. Barnum. During their “weekly act of debauchery” to seemingly break the monotony of cold-calling and swindling investors and featuring strippers, trays of served champagne and a partly-nude marching band, a female co-worker agrees to be literally and primitively scalped in exchange for $10,000 to purchase DD breast implants. “That’s Entertainment” in Stratton Oakmont, but for a niche market anywhere else.
At the onset of the film, the visual landscape, or, as it’s narrated, “the world of investing can be a jungle”; yet, this jungle of bulls, bears and a lion (the latter of which is stunningly featured in a Stratton Oakmont commercial which opens the film) transforms into a circus where creatures (like his equally aggressive employees whom Belfort dubs his “killers”) are trained (domesticated) by Belfort who cunningly and seductively conjures the essence of a latter-day P.T. Barnum. During their “weekly act of debauchery” to seemingly break the monotony of cold-calling and swindling investors and featuring strippers, trays of served champagne and a partly-nude marching band, a female co-worker agrees to be literally and primitively scalped in exchange for $10,000 to purchase DD breast implants. “That’s Entertainment” in Stratton Oakmont, but for a niche market anywhere else.
Notice the similar posturing of the three ringleaders (from left-to-right): Brad Braden (Charlton Heston), General Manager, Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus in THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH c/o Paramount Pictures (1952); Jordan Belfort featured in the Forbes magazine article, “On the Margin”, by Roula Khalaf (1991); Jordan Belfort (Leonardo DiCaprio) in THE WOLF OF WALL STREET also c/o Paramount Pictures (2013) presides over his carnivalesque office of Stratton Oakmont
At one instance, Jordan walks the floor of his office with a small chimpanzee (displayed in the film’s poster) dressed in business attire; “lions and tigers and bears”, an undoubted nod to THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939) is uttered between Belfort and Azoff after they first engage in smoking crack together. One (of its currently four) lion statues are featured in London’s Trafalgar Square and on the door knocker of Belfort’s “favorite Aunt” Emma (Joanna Lumley) with whom he hides a bulk of his company’s earnings out of the watchful gaze of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. A lion’s visage emblazons Stratton Oakmont’s logo. Incidentally, "Leo" (as in DiCaprio's abbreviated first name) is the Latin translation for lion.
Confoundedly, there seems to be a grudge against aquatic animals imploring an attack by PETA or other marine life activists. Goldfish and other such tropical fresh water/marine life do not bode well for those that care for them: an employee of Stratton is discharged for cleaning his fish bowl and his goldfish is eaten by Azoff; Belfort instructs his original Senior VPs to target investors (whom he calls whales) like Captain Ahab (the famed captain who hunted the great white whale in Herman Melville’s novel, “Moby Dick”) and take them down with a harpoon (a seductive script); a pair of lobsters are thrown with abandon by Belfort through the gangway of his yacht at federal agents investigating him; sushi eaten by Belfort and Azoff is one of the only consumed meals physically seen in the film; Belfort’s money is tucked away in a Swiss bank account c/o corrupt banker, Jean Jacques Saurel (Jean Dujardin), whose desk sits adjacent to a fish tank filled with colorful fish and other elaborately-designed accoutrement.
The existence of fish, whether as a pet or as presentation prove to be a bad omen and climactically, Saurel is engaged in an arrest, albeit, unrelated to Belfort’s account (involving Benihana restaurants) and divulges everything he knows of Jordan Belfort and Stratton Oakmont. Shortly thereafter, when Belfort welshes on his deal with the Securities and Exchange Commission to maintain a modicum of his financial earnings by walking away from Stratton Oakmont indefinitely, a colleague advises Agent Patrick Denham (Kyle Chandler) that Belfort is “back in the ocean. Happy hunting.”.
The existence of fish, whether as a pet or as presentation prove to be a bad omen and climactically, Saurel is engaged in an arrest, albeit, unrelated to Belfort’s account (involving Benihana restaurants) and divulges everything he knows of Jordan Belfort and Stratton Oakmont. Shortly thereafter, when Belfort welshes on his deal with the Securities and Exchange Commission to maintain a modicum of his financial earnings by walking away from Stratton Oakmont indefinitely, a colleague advises Agent Patrick Denham (Kyle Chandler) that Belfort is “back in the ocean. Happy hunting.”.
For a film seemingly motivated by numbers and money, the first example of counting done in the film is not revolving around stocks or investments, but rather when Stratton’s employees rhythmically count each of three heaves of a helmet-and-Velcro encrusted dwarf as he’s launched onto a human-sized bulls-eye board in Stratton Oakmont’s office. So what of the significance of the name of Belfort’s firm, Stratton Oakmont? Oakmont could possibly be a portmanteau or neologism of some kind with no particular significance (except to Belfort). Coincidentally, Stratton may be a reference to Charles Sherwood Stratton a.k.a. General Tom Thumb, an American dwarf who performed and achieved widespread fame in the circus of (you guessed it!) P.T. Barnum and whose existence was so profound, his funeral was visited by over 20,000 attendees.
Keeping with the circus motif (and Scorsese’s appreciation of classic American cinema), mention is made in the film disparagingly of dwarves similar to characters who were mocked in Tod Browning’s FREAKS (1932) by Belfort, Azoff, Koskoff and Feinberg (the latter of whom is nicknamed “Pinhead” much like a pair of characters in Browning’s horror film) with a cast composed of dwarves and others with deformities who populate the troupe of authentic carnival performers. It may also be worth noting the cinematic coincidence that both THE WOLF OF WALL STREET (1929) and FREAKS featured Olga Baclanova in a starring role (respectively named, Olga and Cleopatra), the latter providing her most notable performance as the devious circus performer who seduces one of the sideshow dwarves which leads to her freakish comeuppance - - seeing a parallel with Belfort? FREAKS would unsuccessfully resuscitate Baclanova’s career which was already in a state of decline.
Keeping with the circus motif (and Scorsese’s appreciation of classic American cinema), mention is made in the film disparagingly of dwarves similar to characters who were mocked in Tod Browning’s FREAKS (1932) by Belfort, Azoff, Koskoff and Feinberg (the latter of whom is nicknamed “Pinhead” much like a pair of characters in Browning’s horror film) with a cast composed of dwarves and others with deformities who populate the troupe of authentic carnival performers. It may also be worth noting the cinematic coincidence that both THE WOLF OF WALL STREET (1929) and FREAKS featured Olga Baclanova in a starring role (respectively named, Olga and Cleopatra), the latter providing her most notable performance as the devious circus performer who seduces one of the sideshow dwarves which leads to her freakish comeuppance - - seeing a parallel with Belfort? FREAKS would unsuccessfully resuscitate Baclanova’s career which was already in a state of decline.
Theatrical poster for FREAKS (1932)
Stratton Oakmont, like the carnival performers of FREAKS, was nothing more than a sideshow and subordinate event in stark contrast to the principal money-making, predominately legitimate (yet occasionally scheming) larger financial institutions, investment firms and New York Stock Exchange which occupy Wall Street, the financial epicenter of the United States of America. Since this is a fact, if the filmmakers are intending THE WOLF OF WALL STREET as an indictment of the financial meltdown that created apocalyptic shockwaves throughout the financial infrastructure in 2008, then that is a further insult as highly speculative penny stocks secured through selfishly shameful means are worlds away from the likes of the (nefarious or not) multi-million dollar transactions c/o institutional giants like Goldman Sachs, Lehman Brothers, AIG and Bank of America.
Martin Scorsese’s presentment for achieving the American Dream through objectionable means is an absurd nightmare of vulgarity; a depraved and cinematic insult that couldn’t be more off target and is chiefly a re-working of the age-old template for an exercise in excess that ends badly for all who try to achieve financial success - - just watch the trailer and notice the reoccurrence of the word, “More”, especially as it’s embedded in that goldenrod hue again.
Martin Scorsese’s presentment for achieving the American Dream through objectionable means is an absurd nightmare of vulgarity; a depraved and cinematic insult that couldn’t be more off target and is chiefly a re-working of the age-old template for an exercise in excess that ends badly for all who try to achieve financial success - - just watch the trailer and notice the reoccurrence of the word, “More”, especially as it’s embedded in that goldenrod hue again.
So who is responsible for such a degenerative cinematic misfortune? Moving in reverse since the film’s release, DiCaprio was instrumental in securing the rights to Jordan Belfort’s memoir of “The Wolf of Wall Street” when it was in a galley proof format and proposed it to Scorsese as their fifth film venture with Scorsese at the helm; while incarcerated in federal prison with Writer/Director/Musician/Stoner, Tommy Chong, Belfort was encouraged by Chong to capture his experiences in a book after laughing uncontrollably at Jordan’s exploits; it was while briefly working on Wall Street (at L.F. Rothschild before the firm collapsed in the stock market crash of 1987) with Mark Hanna (Matthew McConaughey) who trained Belfort in not only learning a jungle-like war cry but also in abusing cocaine and masturbating (manipulating a sexual act likened to manipulating and coordinating action in the stock market) regularly on a daily-basis; meeting his destructively enabling friend, Donnie Azoff at Kacandes Diner (so named after one of the film’s executive producers, Georgia Kacandes) seduced by Belfort’s shimmering Jaguar in the parking lot and prowess for earning $72,000 in a month who becomes second in command of Belfort’s company and supports Jordan in leading him down their larcenous and lascivious road to ruin; Belfort’s first wife, Teresa Petrillo (Cristin Milioti) who prompted Jordan to respond to a “stockbroker” posting in the want ads for a job at the Investor Center which led him to meet Dwayne (Actor/Director, Spike Jonze), who introduced Belfort to the potential fortune behind penny stocks and pink sheets.
John Donne once wrote, “no man is an island, entire of itself; every many is a piece of the continent” and this could be no truer in this regard. The through-line that connects each of these separate strands, however, is the prevalence of money and the covetous concept of greed. Perhaps it’s not a who, but a what that is partly responsible. Of money, it was noted by Carlo (Mischa Auer) in Gregory La Cava’s screwball masterpiece, MY MAN GODFREY (1936), as “The Frankenstein monster that destroys souls.” It is money that drives Belfort’s desires and it is its paper spine that tolls on the bell signaling his destiny as well as for those in his corporate network. The symbol of "$"/money also rests in the center bulls-eye of Belfort's dwarf-tossing money board.
Scorsese & Co. miss the proverbial target; Stratton Oakmont’s employees pass the time by tossing dwarves onto their money sign.
Notice how Jordan crumples and tosses a $100 bill into his wastepaper basket which then falls upon more benjamins? How exaggerated is that?! I suspect that various welfare and other financial assistance groups would find this out of line. I haven’t seen someone this spoiled abuse money this much since Scrooge (or “$crooge”) McDuck in “Duck Tales” when in his multi-story, private vault, would boldly plunge through the air (ironically) bill-first into and swim amidst a sea of gold coins and other currency. Logic tells us that any mammal performing such a stunt would break its neck. Of course, McDuck is an animated character.
Apropos, of a Popeye cartoon depicting the eponymous tattooed sailor finding profound strength in a can of spinach, seeing Popeye achieve this burst of energy on a nearby television set inspires Belfort in one scene to take an urgent snort of cocaine to combat a debilitating Quaalude high to immediately revive himself and perform the Heimlich maneuver on his friend, Azoff (whose dental work resembles that of an animated and phosphorescent-toothed, Totoro in Hayao Miyazaki’s (1988) animated feature MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO), who has a piece of luncheon meat obstructing his trachea. Logic in this case tells us that Belfort is a nincompoop who’ll idiomatically risk dancing with death.
Apropos, of a Popeye cartoon depicting the eponymous tattooed sailor finding profound strength in a can of spinach, seeing Popeye achieve this burst of energy on a nearby television set inspires Belfort in one scene to take an urgent snort of cocaine to combat a debilitating Quaalude high to immediately revive himself and perform the Heimlich maneuver on his friend, Azoff (whose dental work resembles that of an animated and phosphorescent-toothed, Totoro in Hayao Miyazaki’s (1988) animated feature MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO), who has a piece of luncheon meat obstructing his trachea. Logic in this case tells us that Belfort is a nincompoop who’ll idiomatically risk dancing with death.
MY NEIGHBOR/friend TOTORO/Azoff
What is more disappointing is that Scorsese and DiCaprio had already crafted a film that is profoundly more elegant and altogether inspiring with striking, contrasting elements to THE WOLF OF WALL STREET. And not only did both films amass for DiCaprio a Golden Globe for his respective acting performances, but both motion pictures also feature extravagant amounts of excess attained through different means and for different ends entirely from two very contrary individuals: Howard Hughes and Jordan Belfort. At one end of the spectrum is THE AVIATOR whereas on the furthermost point is THE WOLF OF WALL STREET: two films containing the acquirement of excess, the former is visually and verbally more luxurious and opulent with a tinge of blue painted onto much of the film-stock like the limitless sky which inspires Hughes to take flight and incidentally is the one natural thing on Earth he is unable to control or conquer; the latter is a modern-day example of the absurdity of greed.
Scorsese provides Howard Hughes (Leonardo DiCaprio) with a cinematic flourish as he looks onto the ravishing floor of the (now demolished) Ambassador Hotel’s Cocoanut Grove and the set-pieces and attendees who have flocked to the room appear to illuminate at the very moment Hughes looks on and musical notes of “I’ll Build a Stairway To Paradise” soar from the band stand. It’s a profound, seemingly unnatural moment that unfolds naturally which hearkens to one of the film’s closing lines to Howard by his close business associate, Noah Dietrich (John C. Reilly) in that “Everybody works for you, Howard”.
Watching THE AVIATOR, it’s easy to see how Hughes’ entrepreneurial instincts complemented by the coordination of his fortune seem to be able to employ or own nearly everything under the sun or at least as far as his business venture at that moment is concerned. At several instances, Hughes is juggling multiple requests simultaneously but needs to focus on the task at hand and with computerized efficiency and rapid-fire, ticker-tape delivery, his cerebral performance is ever precise and unmatched. He is literally a machine whose internal motor runs indefinitely as his work days revolve around airplane and/or automobile motors and is incapable of engaging in practical matters with his business colleagues.
Of course, he has his missteps both professionally (a near-fatal crash of his XF-11 prototype aircraft in Beverly Hills, CA) and personally (publicized scandals with female celebrities and a decline in health due to an obsessive-compulsive disorder), but his contributions to the aviation and film industries, to name but a few, are abundant and renowned and it’s no wonder he was one of the wealthiest and most fascinating individuals in the world. Battling with personal demons of her own, Katharine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) intimates to Howard with regards to being in the public eye that “We're not like anyone else. You have to be very careful not to let people in or they'll make us into freaks.” She continues, “There's no decency to it.” If only she had the pleasure of meeting Jordan Belfort.
Of course, he has his missteps both professionally (a near-fatal crash of his XF-11 prototype aircraft in Beverly Hills, CA) and personally (publicized scandals with female celebrities and a decline in health due to an obsessive-compulsive disorder), but his contributions to the aviation and film industries, to name but a few, are abundant and renowned and it’s no wonder he was one of the wealthiest and most fascinating individuals in the world. Battling with personal demons of her own, Katharine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) intimates to Howard with regards to being in the public eye that “We're not like anyone else. You have to be very careful not to let people in or they'll make us into freaks.” She continues, “There's no decency to it.” If only she had the pleasure of meeting Jordan Belfort.
Like Hughes, Jordan Belfort also employed an army of employees to sell the vision of his company, Stratton Oakmont, how unethical and indecent it may have been. Belfort hires women to satisfy his and his employees’ appetites just as Hughes hires (and interviews) a woman, Faith Domergue (Kelli Garner) to escort him in public. The female form in THE AVIATOR is compared numerous times with planes under Hughes’ command; there is even a graphic match of Hughes running his hand down Hepburn’s nude back intercut with his gliding hand along the smooth fuselage of a plane. Lavishly-costumed female entertainers defy gravity as they flow back-and-forth on extravagantly ornate swings above the handsomely-dressed nightclubbers in the Cocoanut Grove just after Hughes’ fleet of aircraft take to the sky. Belfort crash lands his helicopter in his backyard although Howard (with Hepburn in the cockpit) is able to land his private aircraft on a dime in the backyard of his Angeleno estate.
Theatrical poster for Hughes' directorial debut, HELL’S ANGELS (1930); Jean Harlow’s female form embraces a male shape in the clouds amidst a fiery, aerial dog-fight.
After Hughes crashed his XF-11 reconnaissance aircraft during its first air test and sustained massive burns and injuries including the shifting of his heart from the left to the right side of his chest, when he was hospitalized, the discomfort of his hospital bed inspired him to have his team of engineers design what is now the prototype for the modern hospital bed in addition to drinking freshly-squeezed orange juice that he felt sped up his recovery due to its “nutritional value”. The only medical issue that Belfort complains of is his slipped disc he’s no doubt received from the multitude of prostitutes with whom he’s bedded.
Although there is no instance of murder that occurs at the hands of Stratton’s employees, Jordan calls them his “killers” and “telephone terrorists”. Unless of course you consider an attack on a customer’s financial well-being a form of monetary manslaughter. When a member of the press, Roland Sweet (Willem Dafoe), has a mysterious evening rendezvous with Hughes who intends on having Sweet hand over compromising pictures of Hepburn with Spencer Tracy, Roland worries that Hughes is going to kill him when Howard immediately advises he is no killer.
Whereas Howard Hughes suffered from hearing loss, Belfort had difficulty
listening to others and heeding the beneficial advice of his social circle further
contributing to the state of his being an anti-hero. An excellent golfer, Hughes engages in nine holes (on an ironic blue green) with an equally enthusiastic golfer, Hepburn. The only exercise exhibited by Belfort and Donnie is momentarily in Jordan’s private gym, respectively on a treadmill and exercise bike to get their heart racing to achieve a better high off a discontinued Lemmon Quaalude.
Scorsese’s one visually stylish flourish in THE WOLF OF WALL STREET similarly takes place in a party atmosphere under Stratton Oakmont’s roof involving about a dozen strippers chaotically careening into each other amidst confetti and unending trays of bubbling champagne as someone on Scorsese’s (or DP, Prieto’s) production team repeatedly flips the light-switch on and off while Howlin’ Wolf’s “Smokestack Lightning” enters the Soundtrack and disjointedly begins reverberating.
Chaos, indeed.
By the climax of THE AVIATOR, Hughes is nearing the point in his life when he chooses living in seclusion and publically consulting when he must, while his trusted employees and highly sustainable empire continues to produce at maximum capacity. Research laboratories, medical institutions, airlines, airports, film studios, television stations, freeways, real estate complexes and a corporation at one point or another and many to this day still bear the name of Howard Hughes. In light of this, it is audacious to believe that Jordan Belfort provides lucrative sales training and wealth management programs to the public now that his existence is regulated and under the watchful eye of the American Government. The conclusion of THE WOLF OF WALL STREET featuring Belfort trying to motivate his audience to sell him a pen, unsuccessfully, resembled a dispirited Frank T.J. Mackey (Tom Cruise) of MAGNOLIA (1999) who’d literally reached the end of his "Straight Line" and was dwarfed by the shell of the man he once was during his run as flimflamming founder/ringleader of Stratton Oakmont.
To show you my heart is in the right place, I'd suggest re-naming (at least, temporarily) that famed, oft-traveled San Francisco landmark located on Lombard Street that lasts for one block, known and visited by hundreds of tourists annually to the City by the Bay, The Crookedest Street: Belfort Way.
To show you my heart is in the right place, I'd suggest re-naming (at least, temporarily) that famed, oft-traveled San Francisco landmark located on Lombard Street that lasts for one block, known and visited by hundreds of tourists annually to the City by the Bay, The Crookedest Street: Belfort Way.
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