My feelings towards this first offer is twofold. It is perhaps the most flashy advert to greed and consumerism, a glorious ode to the church of unregulated capitalism. It is also an example of a well made film steadfast in its commitment to it’s original source. Therein lies the problem. Scorsese is a virtuoso, and his has made what some might consider a perfect adaptation, In it’s  unrelentingly faithfulness to Jordan Belfort’s bio, he has perfectly recreated the empty world of which Belfort was King. I tip my hat to Scorcese’s work in this sense, it’s typical Scorcese energy, it has clever shots, is wonderfully directed with great performances.

But I can’t say I like this film. The primary reason is that so much art and talent has gone into recreating a world that is so ultimately empty, this translates to the experience of watching this film.  I  in no way think the film is a waste of time, for entertainment purposes it’s more than one could ask for but it’s ultimately as unlikeable as the story’s protagonists. This lack of commentary about the banker’s culture in which the film presents has often been seen by critics and viewers alike as Scorsese validating the actions of these people. As glorification of their selfishness, and commitment to the Thatcherite theory that “there is no society”.

While I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Scorcese shares these views – I mean I don’t know the man, but I hardly think his background nor his reputation would go in tandem with such an abhorrent culture – the deliberate impassivity/objective storytelling however, appears so deliberately one-sided, the cries of collusion are inevitable. In it’s faithfulness to it’s source material, the film never attempts to offer a contradicting narrative.No real critical eye is given to Belfort’s exploits, the tone supporting his jovial recollections. While I appreciate that this is no typical morality tale, I felt at times really uncomfortable at how funny the film was despite in the back of my mind knowing full well that the actions Belfort and his cohorts took would have such devastating effects on their victims and the world in general.

The lack of remorse Belfort displays, the absolute zero screen time given to any of his victims, the lack of objectivity again gives credence to claims there is an air of condoning in the film. However again, I feel that Belfort was and is not remorseful for what he did, and the American justice system didn’t seem to think it was that bad either considering the meagre punishment he received. Maybe in this a moment of realisation that justice hadn’t been served and that there are those who can seemingly get away with murder (so to speak)  is what has caused such a furore with this film. The truth hurts.

What bothered me more about the film was the emptiness of the characters. I get that the world that they lived in was all about feeling fulfilled by possessing things rather than being people, but I was shocked to find that after watching a film where the main character is present in practically every frame of film (a virtuoso performances from Leonardo Dicaprio, who is as committed in this as in my favorite peformances of his Arnie in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?), so physically present in sight and sound, is still barely a person. I don’t say this because Jordan Belfort appears to a completely unlikeable cocky bastard, that’s a given, more-so because he’s ,that word again – empty – despite his presence and his monologues, he is complete hot air. He is as two dimensional as they come. I still barely know anything about him after watching the film as I did going in. This extends to all the major characters, including Jonah Hill’s (also a surprisingly great performance) Donnie Azoff and Margot Robbie as Naomi Laplaglia. This results in an abundance of complete apathy when there is an attempt of dramatic injection into scenes. I can’t feel empathy for barely there people. The only performance, which is more of a cameo that I enjoyed in the sense I liked both the performance and character is Matthew McConaughey’s Mark Hanna. His less than five minute appearance made me laugh hard and set me up to be a little disappointed with the rest of what followed in terms of characterisation.

After watching the film, I have wondered if the shallowness and one dimension-ability (not a word but you get the jist) of the characters was a deliberate step taken by Scorcese as a subtle swipe at them and their lifestyles. After all, they are  barely people, let alone people who anyone with a decent functioning brain would want to aspire to. I’d like to think that this is the subtle point Scorcese is trying to make. And it’s complete genius if true.

My other issue with the film which I will only briefly touch upon is the gratuitous nudity that was so one-sided it left a nasty taste in my mouth. Now I’m no stick in the mud, but it was galling to see nearly all the female characters bar one presented  as just walking, barely talking sex dolls. The lack of a strong female character wasn’t so much an issue because it was quite obvious that we were entering the mind of a plainly misogynistic fool. What galled me was the explicit nudity of all the women yet none of the men. The only male nudity was a bare ass once and a prosthetic penis. This is both a combination of the film and the film industry’s fault. I’m of the mindset that if you’re gonna have nudity, it applies to all or none. It’s not just because I’m sick of actresses being expected to expose themselves for the male gaze and there’s never anything for the female viewer. More so because in the case of this particular film, this smacks of bowing to industry nonsensical rules. How can you put so much detail in recreating this world, yet when you have a sex scene (of which there is a fair few) the men appear tastefully and unbelievably covered, with their modesty in tact. Hollywood needs to sort it’s priorities out. If it’s not brave enough to be realistic don’t bother to strive for authenticity in your sex scenes when you’re so blinded by institutionalised sexism.

Despite my angry lady rant, the film on the whole wasn’t an intolerable experience. For entertainment purposes this film ticks all the bosses. It’s surprising fun. There are hints of Scorcese’s filmmaking genius. There are some innovative camera shots and the energy of the film is translated in the energy of the central performances. The story skips at such a fresh pace, you’ll wonder at how the two hours fly by. If the film wasn’t based on actual events, I’d be able to marry the film’s tone and the story more. However, it’s based on true events and for that reason, while an enjoyable adventure, there’s also something highly unlikeable about it all. I’d give it an ever-so soft recommend.

If you’re still intrigued and I don’t blame you. It’s Scorcese after all, the DVD comes out on 19th May of this year.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=LFphYRyH7wc
A surprising treat from the Coen brothers. Inside Llewyn Davis reminded me of a slightly less obnoxious, more romantically nostalgic Frances Ha and not just because the two leads names are the film’s titles. Let me explain.

While watching the film, it was striking the similarities between the two leads. Both are immature struggling artists, miserably letting life pass them by while being too-cool-for-school to try hard enough to test their artistic ambitions for fear of failure and rejection. They are both seemingly content with letting those around them take responsibility for them, forever dependent and not always grateful for the kindness extended. Both films follow them at the same juncture of their lives when  the realisation that change is both inevitable and needed. The arrested development irresponsible stage of their lives is drawing to an end.

The ways in which the two films deal with this differ, with I would say Inside Llewyn Davis being somewhat more philosophical about it. Some might say realistic. Others cynical. But the story isn’t just one man’s physical and psychological journey, it’s also a historical (although some have  claimed inaccurate) and analytical glimpse into one man’s experience in the music scene around the time prior to the explosion of the folk scene and in particular the ascent to stardom of a certain Mr Bob Dylan.

Although shrouded in nostalgia, evident in the meticulous look and feel of a recreated Greenwich Village of 1961, the film gives a vivid portrayal of the difficulties in finding that big break in music, which may have been true of then as it is now.

Like Wes Anderson, the Coen brothers have a particular knack of creating distinctive styles in their movies. From the script to the look of the film, there is something quintessentially Coen in all their films and Inside Llewyn Davis is no different. What was most striking about Davis is the film’s palette.  Grey and brown permeates the cinematography (this makes the presence of the ginger cat, a symbol of responsibility and potential redemption for Llewyn all the more striking). The other worldly look created gives a sense of a time past, but also adds to the melancholy of the lead, an excellent turn by Oscar Isaac. He completely embodies a talented musician, both unlikeable in his selfishness but also sympathetic  in his struggle to summon the strength to face personal and societal adversity as well as dealing (sometimes not very well) with a continual sense of loss.

The tone of the film is in direct contrast to other Coen works such as O Brother Where Art Thou? and Burn After Reading, it’s more like A Serious Man but even more melancholic which demonstrates the range of direction the brothers are able to go in and continuously succeed. There touches of humour in what is a rather subdued film, which is what I liked about it. Those moments of levity were well received in a film that sometimes threatened to be a bit oppressive. I, however, welcomed the fact this wasn’t a rose tinted look at the folk scene nor of the 1960s which films often tend to be. It’s quietness in some respects allowed for the music which I really enjoyed, have the spot light, which intensified the power of some of the songs. The soundtrack was both fitting of the time period as well as remarkably fresh “Fare Thee Well (Dink’s Song)” a particular favorite.

The performances for the most part are well rounded and in tune to the tone of the film. My only quibble would be that I wasn’t wholly convinced by Carey Mulligan’s perpetually angry Jean Berkey. The fact she wasn’t on screen for a most the film was a blessing because what presence she did have wore thin very quickly. There’s only so much angry whispering through gritted teeth I can take. I don’t care about her dysfunctional past with Llewyn.

The film is very watchable, if not a little slight. It was still a pleasant way to pass the time. In fact it would make the ideal “night in with a DVD” situation. And you can make it all happen on the 26th May when it comes out on DVD.

A welcome addition the Coen’s film canon.