More money. More drugs. More sex. More power. More everything.
If WOWS qualifies as a "punk rock film," then we have reached a cultural moment at which punk is devoid of meaning, reduced to crass commercial form in which the very possibility of rebellion signifies absolutely nothing.
If the message of The Wolf of Wall Street is "drugs are bad," some people aren't getting the message.
Their picks. (My deletions.) My picks. Not all that different. Except where they are extremely different.
This year's award for Best Actor in a Comedy/Musical should have been a matter of principle. The Wolf of Wall Street had no place taking home any Golden Globes.
While I realize that movie and television stars are people who get nervous speaking in public just like many of us, they had weeks between the nominations and the awards to get their presentations together.
The Golden Globes are probably the most light-hearted of the major motion picture or television kudos. So we've come to expect less poignancy from winners at this show than compared to the Academy Awards.
When a fan tells him she's tongue tied, Martin Scorsese becomes wildly animated: "Why? You don't need to be. It's just me," and gives her a hug. You c...
What can't Meryl Streep do? Presenting a Best Actress award to her friend Emma Thompson, she offered the 700 gala guests of the National Board of Revi...
The Wolf of Wall Street was good for one thing: providing a window through which I gained insight into a potential boyfriend's personal values, interests and sense of humor.
As great as these stockbrokers look in Tom Ford and Armani, I'll stick to eating DiGiorno and crying over Ross offering to take Rachel to prom.
What's missing is the moral compass of the film. What exactly does Mr. Scorsese intend?
The Wolf of Wall Street did not create or endorse the corrupt culture and lifestyle it depicts, but simply pulls if from the shadows and puts it on display. If this inspires people to follow Belfort's example, the issue isn't the film.
As a longtime fan of the creative team involved, I'd been looking forward to the film; when the online debate began over the ethical rationale of telling the story of someone like Jordan Belfort, I was all the more intrigued.
The trouble is that last week, my own calculus of rational self-interest took me out to the movies, not to Zuccotti Park. I was aroused, but for all the wrong reasons.
All the films I've mentioned deal with the idea of projection. The characters ask themselves: What kind of image am I projecting? How do people see me?