Conspicuous Consumption
The Wolf of Wall Street bites off everything it can possibly chew
Written by andrew bonazelli
Leonardo DiCaprio cares. Well before Titanic made him a global pin-up at age 23, he was challenging himself with the likes of well-meaning, provocative indies like This Boy’s Life, The Basketball Diaries and Total Eclipse. While he briefly became a skirtchasing tabloid fixture in the late ’90s, he really did use his superstar currency for good, settling in as Martin Scorsese’s new muse/protégé, the heir to Robert De Niro’s unassailable legacy. That’s an enviable career arc, and the dude’s not even 40 yet.
The problem is he’s just not that good.
Okay, “good” isn’t fair at all. DiCaprio is a student, a workaholic; he clearly strives to emulate the likes of De Niro, but his emotional modulations have always seemed forced and overwrought. The Wolf of Wall Street is his fifth collaboration with Scorsese, an entertaining and very empty callback to GoodFellas, a masterpiece whose manic amoral unpredictability can be copied, but not outdone. As Jordan Belfort, a Quaalude-addicted, thieving stockbroker, DiCaprio carries the film via seductive greed-is-good voice-over, but neither filmmaker nor actor supplies a reason to care about the repetitive excess. Wolf is fun in spurts, but never transcendent, more a showcase for Leo’s (admittedly improving) comedic chops than anything of dramatic value.
The problem is he’s just not that good.
Okay, “good” isn’t fair at all. DiCaprio is a student, a workaholic; he clearly strives to emulate the likes of De Niro, but his emotional modulations have always seemed forced and overwrought. The Wolf of Wall Street is his fifth collaboration with Scorsese, an entertaining and very empty callback to GoodFellas, a masterpiece whose manic amoral unpredictability can be copied, but not outdone. As Jordan Belfort, a Quaalude-addicted, thieving stockbroker, DiCaprio carries the film via seductive greed-is-good voice-over, but neither filmmaker nor actor supplies a reason to care about the repetitive excess. Wolf is fun in spurts, but never transcendent, more a showcase for Leo’s (admittedly improving) comedic chops than anything of dramatic value.