"Inside Llewyn Davis" - King Midas's Idiot Brother

*SPOILERS ahead.

After watching over twelves hours of Bob Dylan related movies this month (Rolling Thunder Revue, Factory Girl, I’m Not There, No Direction Home), it seemed only logical that I finally take the plastic off (more on that later) of my copy of Inside Llewyn Davis, a movie that doesn’t glorify the folk scene of 1961 but rather casts a shadow (almost literally considering the color palette of the film) over the era. This is the folk scene right before Bob Dylan showed up (as he appears in the background in the film’s final moments), and for some people, Llewyn Davis specifically, a career in folk music is an eternal struggle. That’s what drew me to this film after all the Dylan stuff. After watching so much film about or inspired by this artist, it was nice to see a story from the same era but about someone who didn’t become an icon. Plus, it’s a Coen Brothers movie, and everything they make should be watched twice, at least.

“[T]he same shit’s going to keep happening to you, because you want it to.” 

Inside Llewyn Davis is a bit of a head-scratcher after the first viewing (at least it was for me). The film seems to end where it begins, so it appears that Llewyn is in some kind of loop, especially once you find out the cat’s name is Ulysses because it makes it seem like he’s on some seemingly endless journey a la Odysseus. But that’s not exactly the case. 

First of all, it’s not a time loop as there are quite a few differences. Llewyn sings another song and is followed by Bob Dylan at the end of the film. Plus, he keeps Ulysses from leaving the apartment with him this time. A lot of similar things happen to Llewyn, but the point of it isn’t that he’s in some purgatory or mythical allegory. He’s just in a rut as a person and an artist that he may or may not want out of.

The easy version of this movie is that Llewyn wants to find success as an artist and reaches some breakthrough at the end. You could argue that he has come to terms with the loss of his bandmate Mike by the end, but he’s still not thriving at the end. What makes it interesting is that it doesn’t seem like he really wants out of the loop. Llewyn Davis is very self-sabotaging, whether he does it consciously or not. For example, he takes a quick check instead of getting royalties for the “Please Mr. Kennedy” recording. He tells his sister to just throw out all of his things without even going through them, not realizing his merchant marine union papers are among them. Why is he like this? That’s where folk music comes into play.

Music, perhaps more than any other artistic expression, glorifies struggle. Success is considered selling out. Folk music in particular embodies this as the songs are typically about struggles among common people, and what’s more common than scraping by? On some level, Llewyn never wants to stop crashing on whatever couch he can find in the Village, because if he somehow makes enough money to get his own place, then he must have sold out to get there. 

This is not necessarily who Llewyn Davis is overall, but it’s certainly who he is throughout the film. He was part of a duo, and his attempt at a solo career is failing. He is trying, but he’s unwilling to admit that he needs someone. Mike’s suicide is still affecting him, and he doesn’t want to find someone new. But trying things on his own has created an endless rut. The end of the film may find him making slight progress (because of his ability to leave the cat in the apartment), but it seems like he may have simply made peace with the rut.

This is best exemplified by his conversations with Jean (Carey Mulligan). In may ways, everything she says to him sums up his character perfectly, even down to calling him “shit.” But it’s her discussion with him about being a “careerist” that is most telling. She talks about how she and Jim want something, and Llewyn is just on the couch, and it’s spot on. But he sees her goal of success as selling out or giving up. To him the struggle is the point, but this is only because he’s miserable. 

Llewyn’s misery isn’t exclusive to music. He has possibly impregnated Jean, who he clearly has feelings for (despite her being with Jim), and he goes on to find out that he has a child living in Akron (the woman he was with decided to keep the baby without telling him). He considers having a family as giving up, as he gives Jean shit for wanting to move out of the city and raise a child, and he is condescending to his sister when discussing her life of “just existing.” Yet when he drives past Akron on his way back from Chicago he stares at it longingly and moments later he hits a cat (most likely the wrong cat he brought with him from New York but abandoned). By passing Akron he is killing his chance at such a life, and perhaps he regrets this a bit. Regardless, he passes it up and head back to his struggle as a folk singer.

Llewyn alienating people around him and showing disdain for people who succeed shows that living as an artist, or at least an artist in Llewyn’s eyes, is a selfish and lonely endeavor. He uses anyone willing to give him a couch, and he doesn’t seem very interested in family ties (family, either his child or his sister and dad, represent a life wasted). Most people seem to hate him or dismiss him (a man seems to stare at him with hate in his eyes on the subway, Roland Turner dislikes him immediately, etc.). It’s a miserable existence, but it seems to be one he wants to live. It’s also a refreshingly realistic cinematic look at a musician, since Llewyn is never going to make it in the traditional sense, just like most people who follow their dreams. Most just keep grinding it out for as long as possible. For every Bob Dylan, there are a thousand Llewyn Davises out in the alley, getting their asses kicked.

The appearance of Bob Dylan at the end while Llewyn goes to the alley to take his beating sums up what his professional life will most likely be. One step away from stardom and success (which he doesn’t actually want, because hey, Dylan ended up betraying his folk beginning anyway when he went electric, right?). One step away from a beating each night. But this is what he wanted, so it’s not really a sad or depressing ending. Llewyn is going to continue to be the artist he wants to be, and the events of the film have helped him come to terms with that. 

King Midas’s idiot brother

The first time I watched Inside Llewyn Davis, I wasn’t blown away by it. But it’s not the type of movie to blow you away. It’s a movie to be absorbed after multiple viewings. I didn’t hate the film, and I knew I needed to give it time. The Coens have earned my patience over the years, so any time I watch a film of theirs and don’t seem to get it at first, I’ll give it a few months and watch it again. 

I have come to love it, but I feel the need to address why I didn’t like it at first. To begin with, Llewyn is a dick. I know the movie points this out plenty of times, but that doesn’t make him likable. I’ve come to enjoy him as a character, but he does a few things I consider unforgivable. The main issue I have with him is having sex with Jean while she’s with Jim, and then, the kicker, trying to get money from Jim for Jean’s abortion while knowing that the baby could also be Jim’s. I get the dark humor in such a request, but when you think about Jim, who seems to be the nicest character in the film, unwittingly paying for the abortion of his own child, it becomes fucking evil. But I’ve made my peace with it because it finally occurred to me that I don’t need to like him. 

Having an unlikable protagonist isn’t a new concept to me, but I wanted to like Llewyn, probably because I think Oscar Isaac is a great actor, and he’s especially good in this film. The fact that I have come to kind of like him despite his despicable behavior is a testament to his performance.

I also wasn’t crazy about the possible time look aspect of the film the first time. It made me wonder what I missed, realizing that the fucking cat was very important, especially with a name like Ulysses. The name thing really annoyed me because I thought this was meant to be about The Odyssey again, which I thought was a bit lazy. But looking back, this has very little to do with The Odyssey and is more of a reference to the Joyce novel, mainly because it’s a slightly plotless look at life in a specific world over the course of a short period of time. (I’ve never read Ulysses, though, so perhaps there’s more than that to it.)

I just didn’t feel like trying to figure this movie out the first time I saw it. But I chalk that up to awards season fatigue (I have to watch 60+ movies in the final month of the year for the year-end awards from the critics group I belong to and sometimes a movie gets less attention than it deserves). After giving it a few years (I opened my blu ray copy a few days ago even though I bought it years ago), I was able to give the film another chance. 

This time around, I found myself enjoying the world of the film. Even though I like digging deeper into the film and thinking about theories about the cat and whatnot, I also just enjoy the movie on the surface. It’s sneakily one of the Coen Brothers’ funniest films, and it features a great cast of characters. And I’ve embraced folk music recently, so that aspect, which was a bit lost on me the first go around, is now part that I enjoy very much.

Inside Llewyn Davis is not only a film I have come to love; it’s also an example of my favorite type of movie. It’s a film that can be as deep or shallow as you want it to be. That shouldn’t have surprised me because the Coens excel at that. I’m just glad I gave this movie the time it deserved, because now I consider it top-tier Coen Brothers.

Why Do I Own This?

I’m a Coen Brothers completionist (or I was since I have yet to buy Hail, Caesar! and The Ballad of Buster Scruggs), so I buy this out of instinct. But this one truly needs to be owned because it gets better with each viewing.

Poe Dameron and Kylo Ren as college students before their relationship soured.

Random Thoughts 

I bet Llewyn apologizes about last night every day. 

"Llewyn is the cat."

Troy Nelson announcing, "Well, that was very good," after eating cereal annoys me for some reason. 

"Everything you touch turns to shit! Like King Midas's idiot brother."

"I'm not a fucking cat!"

There's something odd about seeing Adam Driver sing about "Outer...space!" now that he's Kylo Ren. Not to mention he's singing with Poe Dameron. 

I actually really like "Please Mr. Kennedy."

What happened to Garrett Hedlund? I mean, I know he still works with regularity, but I always thought he would be a bigger star.

John Goodman definitely has some of the best lines, or maybe I just enjoy watching him roast Llewyn. 

"Grown man with a cat. Is that part of your ACT?"

"I just didn't know what to do with it."

"Really? So, did you bring your dick along, too?"

Llewyn is such a fuck-up that he can't even give up and become a careerist properly. 

..

An English Teacher Reviews "The Great Gatsby"

Directed by Baz Luhrmann, written by Luhrmann & Craig Pearce, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Carey Mulligan, Joel Edgerton, Isla Fisher, and Jason Clarke - Rated PG-13

Preface: This review is mainly for people who have also read the novel.  I didn’t focus much on how the film will be perceived by non-readers simply because I cannot imagine what their experience might be like.  That said, I get the impression that if you liked Baz Luhrmann’s other films, like Romeo + Juliet or Moulin Rouge, then you will like The Great Gatsby.

 

I represent a dark side of America, too, friendo.

 

 

The Great Gatsby has been the bane of high school students for years.  The story, set in the 1920s, is filled with symbolism and disillusionment, two things most teenagers aren’t very concerned with.  As an English teacher, I looked forward to the challenge the book presented as a teaching device, but I was disappointed that there was not an interesting adaptation to show my students after reading.  For better or worse, English teachers all over now have the adaptation they need to show students to get a response. 

 

I am not a “movie teacher.”  By that, I mean that movie days in my class are few and far between.  I may be the “movie guy” to my friends and colleagues, but when it comes to literature, there is no replacement for honestly reading the material.  Faithful adaptations are anathema to my classes.  The only reason to show a class a movie is to aid in their understanding of the source material and, more importantly, get them to think about it in new, interesting ways.  I always require students to write an essay after watching an adaptation.  What can you write about a faithful adaptation?  “I liked watching more than reading”?  “The lighting was good”?  A plain film serves no purpose.  I prefer the crazier adaptations because they keep students interested and opinionated.  When I first read that writer/director Baz Luhrmann (Romeo + Juliet) was making The Great Gatsby, I knew this version would be worth watching.

I was able to take my junior class to see The Great Gatsby on opening day (special thanks to Tell City Cinemas for setting up the individual screening for my class).  We had recently finished reading the novel, and I was hoping this adaptation would be interesting enough to get a response from them.  That definitely proved to be the case.  This version of Gatsby is not only interesting, but, more importantly, it’s entertaining.

 

The same qualities I find interesting and entertaining may leave some people baffled, however.  The most obvious element up for debate is the use of music in the film.  The soundtrack is largely made up of current rap and pop artists, yet the film is still firmly set in the 1920s.  I think the music matches up perfectly with the tone of the film.  The music was an odd fit at first, but by the end it seemed natural to me.  Others may disagree with me.  Some people will simply not be able to get past the fact that music from the 2010s is playing while 1920s characters dance.  It can be jarring, but if you’re willing to go with it, I think it is one of the film’s strongest points.

 

Equally important is the casting of the film.  The role of Gatsby is important in that it requires an actor who can express elegance, charisma, and boundless hope.  That pretty much describes Leonardo DiCaprio to a T, so obviously he was perfectly cast in this.  It isn’t exactly a stretch of a role for the eternally young actor, but that doesn’t make it any less impressive.  On the more surprising side, Tobey Maguire made for a very effective Nick Carraway.  Maguire’s constant stare of boyish wonder usually annoys me, but it’s the perfect visage for the character of Carraway.  It is especially effective once Nick becomes sickened by those around him and that boyish stare turns into a dead glare.  Carey Mulligan makes it easy to feel sympathy for Daisy.  Joel Edgerton brings perfect physicality to the role of Tom.  Jason Clarke is effective as Wilson in a few short scenes.  And Isla Fisher is decent as Myrtle, but that character felt a little shortchanged in this adaptation.

 

Shortchanged characters aside, Gatsby is a surprisingly faithful adaptation.  Of course there are a few changes here and there, such as the absence of Gatsby’s father and the inclusion of a framing device for the story, but the overall theme of the novel is intact, which is the most important aspect to me.  The theme regarding the death of the American dream is still relevant today (and always will be) which is why the novel is still taught to students across the country.  The film does a good job conveying that theme and an even better job at explaining the symbolism of the novel.  Anyone who’s read the novel probably remembers the green light and the eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleburg, and if you don’t remember them, the film will make sure that you do by the end of the 140+ minute running time.  I’m glad both elements received so much attention in the film, though I think some of it was a bit too blatant (Wilson pointing at the eyes and screaming that they are the “eyes of God” comes to mind). 

 

The music, acting, and novel elements are all excellent fodder for a student to write a response, but there’s still the matter of style.  Luhrmann has established himself as an interesting director many times over, but Romeo + Juliet is the best comparison to be made here.  That film featured frenetic elements and borderline cartoonish qualities.  Gatsby takes place in a more realistic world than that film, but it is still frantic.  The driving scenes are insane, the editing is rapid-fire, and the party scenes are pure chaos. 

 


The partying is the main selling point for Gatsby, both as a film and a novel.  I certainly focused on it heavily while teaching it.  The point is not to glorify it, though.  The parties or drinking episodes in the novel are not treated as good times meant to be emulated by others.  Instead, we see the parties through Nick’s eyes, and he has come to the conclusion that these events are not happy moments, but are actually the shallow proceedings of a morally bankrupt group.  It’s easy to get that point when you’re reading about the parties; it’s a bit more difficult to pick up on that message when the parties are visually presented with lavish dance numbers and whatnot, all presented in 3D, no less.  (For the record, I have not seen the film in 3D, but I can hardly imagine that it changes the experience much one way or the other.)  Still, the film does not glorify the lifestyle of the characters.  Others may disagree because the parties take the center stage, but as I watched those scenes, I didn’t think, “Oh, how cool.”  My thoughts drifted more towards, “When will these parties end?”   



The Great Gatsby is essentially about the end of the party.  The novel and the film convey that message to the reader/viewer.  Is it possible that viewers will miss that point?  Of course, but they’ll stay awake through the proceedings.  The biggest hurdle any teacher faces while teaching Gatsby is the boredom complaint.  While I find the themes of the novel fascinating, I definitely encountered a student or two that “just didn’t get it” or “couldn’t get into it.”  As the kids filed out of the movie theater, even the ones who didn’t exactly love the movie told me they were surprised by how interested it kept them.  If that’s not a sign of a successful adaptation of a novel force fed to a teenager, I don’t know what is.





Random Thoughts (SPOILERS)




"I'm so tired of partying.  So very tired."

Yes, that is Slurms McKenzie from Futurama to the right.  I couldn't resist including it.

The framing device bothered me a little bit because it turned Carraway into an alcoholic.  Maybe I'm just too trusting of Carraway as a narrator, but I never got the impression that he was drinking himself into an institution throughout the novel.  In fact, I always pictured him as the sober guy at the party, casting judgment on everyone.  I think the novel backs me up on this since the one scene in which he admits being drunk (at Myrtle's apartment) is a haze of random events (staged wonderfully in the movie, by the way), while the rest of the parties are reported on in quite a sober manner.  Having him constantly drink throws doubt on the entire proceeding.  I know there's a question of his bias as a narrator anyway, but the alcohol makes him seem much more like an unreliable narrator. 

That said, I still accept the framing device since it gives a reason for the words to appear onscreen.  The teacher/dork in me enjoyed seeing some of Fitzgerald's greatest lines recreated that way.

I was okay with Gatsby's dad not showing up at the end.  It seems almost better that he's absent so he seems that much more alone in death. 

I was not okay with the absence of Daisy and Tom's daughter.  I know she finally shows up in the end, but I think it would have been very effective had she appeared in the other scenes she was supposed to be in, especially the one with Gatsby.  In the novel, Gatsby reacts strangely to the child, appearing to not have believed she existed until that moment.  It is effective because it is part of the crumbling dream he has.  Here is physical proof that Daisy and Tom have something together.  It is obviously not part of his grand fantasy.  I can live without the scene, but I think the film would have been better with it, and it would only have taken up thirty seconds or so of the running time.

Gatsby doesn't freak out and almost punch Tom in the novel, but I enjoyed that change.  In the novel, Gatsby suffers a quiet defeat.  That's fine, and it shows how dreams can, and often do, die silent deaths.  But that scene in the hotel room was building with such tension that a quiet ending would have been a let down.  Everyone is sweating and uncomfortable, there's a topic brought up that would normally be kept quiet, there's an ice pick... That scene needed some yelling to finish it up.  And who better to yell out in fury than DiCaprio?

I was definitely not okay with Gatsby being a scrapbooker.  In the novel, he mentions that he has some "clippings" of Daisy, but it doesn't say he busts out a full scrapbook that has been carefully put together.  I know Gatsby had some time to kill in that five years leading up to the reunion, but I simply can't imagine him sitting home with his Elmer's rubber cement, pasting newspaper articles onto construction paper.  Sure, maybe he had a servant do it, but I don't buy that.  And it's equally ridiculous to imagine him handing newspaper clippings to a maid, demanding that a scrapbook be made.  Am I blowing this out of proportion?  Absolutely.  But sometimes small details like that really bother me.



"Shame"

Shame - Directed by Steve McQueen, written by McQueen and Abi Morgan, starring Michael Fassbender, Carey Mulligan, and James Badge Dale - Rated NC-17

Seriously digging Fassbender right now.  After Basterds, Hunger, First Class, and now Shame, the guy can do no wrong.  Bring on A Dangerous Method.

Addiction movies are never exactly fun, but they can be great vehicles for an actor and Shame certainly fits that description as Michael Fassbender gives a great performance, quite possibly the best of the year. Even with that performance, Shame does not exactly transcend the addiction genre, but it is still an interesting and beautiful film.

Shame is a character piece about sex addict Brandon (Fassbender), a man who doesn’t necessarily struggle with a sex addiction so much as he struggles to make real connections with people. He’s managed to keep things slightly under control until his sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) shows up and throws his life into disarray. It’s not so much that his sister is troubled (she is a bit sporadic, though); it’s more about complications being thrown into Brandon’s very solitary life.

Solitary is the key word of Shame. Brandon is utterly alone, no matter how many sexual encounters he has. You don’t see this from the narrative necessarily; you see it in Fassbender’s eyes. It’s almost cliché to call a great performance “understated,” but it’s hard to describe this quiet performance in other terms. Fassbender gives a performance of the eyes…it’s Clooney-esque (which is a good thing, in my opinion). There are plenty of scenes in which Fassbender gets to be bold, but for the most part he is most impressive while staring. Some of the most powerful scenes consist of Fassbender staring his way through New York. His scenes on the subway are non-verbal yet contain the emotional core of the film.

Fassbender is easily the highlight of the film, but it is not his film alone. Writer/director Steve McQueen (he also directed Fassbender in his breakout role in Hunger) impresses in this sophomore effort through color, lighting, music, and camerawork. The montage sequences have an art that makes them seem like their own short films. The diverse color scheme and dimly lit scenes shroud the film in beautiful darkness. McQueen also knows when to have the camera follow Fassbender (who is in nearly every frame of the film) and when to stay behind and let him go.

Shame is still quite a simple movie, however, in that it is an addiction movie and we see Brandon hit his low points and hurt people around him. So at times it gets almost melodramatic. There is also the possibility that some would argue that sex addiction isn’t a “real” addiction. Regardless of your opinion, this movie should at least make you think about it. For one thing, sex addiction doesn’t get a lot of respect since it is a relatively modern diagnosis. This isn’t because it’s made up or new or anything, but because of how society has changed. Because of the internet, access to sexually explicit material is exponentially easier than it was decades ago. Shame addresses this and that is what makes it a bit more interesting than being saddled as the “sex addiction movie.”

Brandon is constantly on his laptop on pornographic sites and there is a subplot involving his work computer. We see it being carted away in an early scene in which we hear Brandon’s boss (out of context) say, “I found you disgusting,” as Brandon looks nervously at the IT guy. On top of the technological era Brandon lives in, he is also in New York and is never far away from anonymous sex. A pivotal moment in the film finds Brandon staring up at an apartment building where he instantly notices a couple having sex, he then looks to the window of a restaurant where his date awaits. What to do?

Brandon’s choices aren’t nearly as telling as the reason behind his options. When faced with the prospect of anonymous sex or a potentially emotionally rewarding relationship, most would hopefully (or at least eventually) choose the actual relationship. Brandon tries to go with a typical relationship and those scenes show his true addiction. He may show desperation and, yes, shame during the sex scenes, but it’s the regular date scenes that are telling. Everything is so awkward and boring and there is no gratification. If this was a drug movie, Brandon would find a dealer and shoot up as soon as he left the date.

Shame may come across as an overly serious addiction movie, but if you give it a chance, you’ll see that it is actually a beautiful, depressing portrait of man who happens to be an addict. Addiction (sex or otherwise) should not be the focus here, though. All eyes should be on Michael Fassbender (insert comical reference to NC-17 rating here) because he makes a beautiful, if slightly plain, addiction film one of the year’s best.

Random Thoughts (SPOILERS)

The NC-17 rating is not that big of a deal, but Shame certainly earns it more than Blue Valentine did last year.  Don't focus on the rating, though.  It's about a sex addict, it kind of has to be NC-17.

The subway train as a metaphor for Brandon's addiction worked for me.  The ambiguous ending of whether or not he stays on the train is interesting and makes all the subway scenes before it more interesting.  Using a train might feel heavy-handed to some, though.  Referring to one's life as a trainwreck or going off the rails is pretty common so equating addiction with a train might diminish it for some.  But I dug it.

I didn't really mention the supporting cast, but James Badge Dale makes for a convincing douchebag.  And Carey Mulligan is fine against Fassbender in some tense, strange scenes.  I would have no problem with her getting a nomination for supporting actress for this.  But this is still Fassbender's movie.

"Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps"

Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps - Directed by Oliver Stone, written by Allan Loeb and Stephen Schiff, starring Michael Douglas, Shia LeBeouf, Carey Mulligan, Josh Brolin, and Frank Langella - Rated PG-13

"Stop telling lies about me and I'll stop telling the truth about you." Unfortunately, this is the only decent line I can remember from the film.

The original Wall Street was a look at an era of excess. If you look back at that film about the deceitful Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) and upstart Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen) you get a real sense of the world of Wall Street in the 1980s. It wasn’t just about how the stock market operated; it was also about the 80s in general. Just watch the sequence when Bud buys an apartment; a Talking Heads song plays as we see so much excess it’s almost funny.

I mention all of this because the sense of a world is missing from Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps. I never got the sense that the new young upstart, Jacob Moore (Shia LeBeouf), was entering a new world. Another aspect missing from this new Wall Street was good dialogue. The original is an insanely quotable film that is filled with amusing insults and witty remarks concerning the financial world. There’s a line here and there that sticks out in this film, but no one will be quoting this in the future.

Wall Street: MNS was a bit of a letdown for me because it lacked focus and just didn’t know what it wanted to be. It gets off to a good start, though. In fact, the beginning is almost like its own little short film featuring a very effective performance by Frank Langella. As I said, there are not many good lines of dialogue in the film, but Langella transcends that problem with his booming voice. Unfortunately, Langella isn’t in the film very long.

After Langella’s exit, the film’s real story begins. Jacob Moore decides to deliver some payback to the man who forced Langella out of his investment firm, Bretton James (Josh Brolin). To do that, he enlists the help of Gordon Gekko, who has reemerged in the financial world after a jail stint and a new book. Gekko is willing to help Jacob as long as Jacob attempts to reconcile him with his estranged daughter, Winnie (Carey Mulligan), who is engaged to Jacob. That’s all interesting but only because it’s unexpected. Seeing Gekko as an actual human being rather than a greedy scumbag was new, but the new Gekko is just kind of pathetic.

The revenge subplot was interesting and in keeping with the original’s tone, but there wasn’t enough actual Wall Street action. I know some people might be put off by financial babble, but that belongs in a film about Wall Street. Money Never Sleeps played more like a family drama that happens to involve players in Wall Street.

That said, the few scenes that involve finance are all great. Brolin has some nice moments (in many ways, he is the Gordon Gekko of this film) and his interactions with Douglas and Langella are entertaining.

Brolin and Langella impressed me the most, but there’s not really a weak performance in the film. Shia LeBeouf actually stands up against all of the heavy hitters; I only found him weak in a few of the sappier scenes with Mulligan. Mulligan does a decent job, but all she really gets to do is act sad throughout. Susan Sarandon is okay as Jacob’s hectic mother, but I was mainly just wondering what she was doing in the film. And Michael Douglas gets right back into Gekko mode quite easily. Of course, he’s played a lot of characters similar to Gekko over the years, but he’s still charismatic and fun to watch.

The acting was all there, but the story wasn’t. I have to blame the majority of this film on Oliver Stone. True, he didn’t write the screenplay for this one, but that’s the point. How can Stone direct a sequel to one of his own screenplays and not write it himself? That’s why the great dialogue was missing and I’m assuming that’s why this was more of a Lifetime Original movie than a Wall Street movie. If you disagree with me on the Lifetime jab, just watch the last fifteen minutes of this film and tell me that that isn’t a weak and sappy ending.

Stone’s biggest influence was his decision to not write the film, but he still tries to add a little something in the form of strange and out of place split screen sequences, dissolves and wipes, and visual aids for sequences about how communication travels and how fusion energy works. I could’ve done without all of it; however it wasn’t distracting or detrimental to the film, just kind of pointless.

Wall Street does offer quite a few references for fans of the original. I won’t say who shows up, but there are some amusing cameos. There are a lot of David Byrne songs (“This Is the Place” by Talking Heads even plays over the credits), but none of the new music sticks out like the original’s soundtrack.

The biggest fan service, though, is the fact that Gordon Gekko is in it. Sure, he’s a tame and sad Gekko, but he’s still very watchable. It’s unfortunate that the film lacked focus and Stone didn’t write it. It doesn’t ruin the original (though some will believe it did). All it really did was make me realize how much I loved the original, and that’s not all that bad.

Random Thoughts (SPOILERS)

Okay, that ending was ridiculous. Suddenly Gordon Gekko has a heart? Screw that. If there's a film character that I never want to see change in, it's Gekko. Also, what exactly did he really do that makes Winnie change her mind? It all seemed forced and way too sentimental.

Langella's death scene was easily the most moving scene in the film.

The bailout scene was pretty great. Even before Eli Wallach mentioned the end of the world, I was thinking that the scene could easily have been put into an "end of the world" movie and you would barely have to change the dialogue.

By the way, what was with Wallach in this film? It's cool to see such an old timer still acting, but I didn't understand the whistling thing he kept doing...just seemed a bit weird.

Charlie Sheen's appearance as Bud Fox was kind of amusing, but the more I thought about it the more I hated it. He basically showed up to show that he turned into successful scumbag and learned nothing. Actually, it was Sheen playing himself. Weak.

I enjoyed Michael Douglas as Gekko in the last act of the film...you know, when he gets to be old school Gekko. The previews set up Gekko to be like that the entire film...if only it was true. It was a good ten minutes or so, though.

Finally, for the record, I hate that "Money Never Sleeps" subtitle. Couldn't that have gone with "The Bailout" or "The Collapse" or "Too Big to Fail" or something? Hell, how about just putting a "2" at the end of the title and being done with it?