What makes a Goodfella?

Howdy. Martin Scorsese is a guy that makes films and - get this - apparently doesn't hold all the answers to all the big existential questions that have plagued man since they evolved from walking on their haunches and rubbing shit in their hair...well, not every day at least. For some that seems to be a problem, but not me.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) is Scorsese's latest, riffing technically from other works by the director, most notably Goodfellas (1990), and seeing Leonardo DiCaprio, in my humble but foul mouthed opinion, on a career fuckin' high with an exuberant performance that I found rather astonishing; he's in almost every frame of film and I wanted to see him more. In a wee bit I'll talk about the end of the film, so if you're one of those that can't get any enjoyment from a film unless everything is a complete surprise then jog on before I tell you about Bambi's mum, who Keyser Söze is and what the shitting tits is in the box.

Scorsese is no stranger to controversy. The Catholic church and, that other trenchant arbiter of taste and moral guidance, Blockbuster Video condemned his take on the life of Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), an adaptation of the Russian novel of the same name by Nikos Kazantzakis. Where Jesus is 'haunted' by God and uncertain, the script was by Paul Schrader, who also helped Scorsese bring other troubled characters, such as Travis Bickle and Jake la Motta, to the screen. But that was when Scorsese was a pup; a feisty 46 year old, rattling the cage, ruffling feathers and...I dunno...whatever else you do to piss off birds. Anyway, surely now in his 71st year he has settled down into mediocrity and hopefully conformity, alas this does not appear to be the case. The Wolf of Wall Street, Scorsese's 21st film as director if I don't count the numerous, often wonderful, documentaries (and I didn't), sees this septuagenarian cause principled swooning and righteous tea spluttering by bringing to our screens:

a vicious and predatory piece of cinema that inculcates values directly antithetical to those of Scripture and sacred tradition. As such it represents a deeply reprehensible misuse of the considerable talents involved in its making. (John Mulderig, 2013)

That though was the view of The Catholic News Service, hardly likely to be soft on a three

hour film that openly depicts sex, drug abuse, theft, mans inhumanity to man and midget tossing (disclaimer: I have no idea what the Catholic church's position on midget tossing is), although they may be in the minority in terms of the ferocity of their condemnation, critical reception of this film has included plenty of moral head scratching, finger pointing, finger wagging and other finger uses from various sources, and its general morality and ethical stance has been called into question by many.

In his review of The Wolf of Wall Street Brent Northup (I know!) says that: 'A morality play often follows a simple pattern: the rise, the fall, the lessons.' This seems fair enough in principle but to present the 'lessons' that should be learned is to assume some sort of authority over the thoughts and behaviour of others. Brent sees the film as 'a bacchanalian [which is knob talk for pissed up] celebration of excess, paying tribute to a modern-day Wall Street emperor, Jordan Belfort, living his Roman life of ticker-tape debauchery.' Brent suggest that this type of behaviour, or this depraved view, or this almost misanthropic (which is knob talk for 'cunt') view of the world is not being decried enough in the film and goes on to describe Belfort as an 'appealing crook'. In what world is this midget tosser 'appealing'? What sort of moral centre must a person have to suggest that this man is 'appealing'? I think this may be a point of Scorsese's portrayal.

But Brent continues 'The weakness of "Wolf" might be classified as an ethical one. "Wolf" refused to spend as much time on the fall - and on the fear of falling - as it does on the rise to power. There's a comic book reality to this film that suggests our teflon hero cannot be harmed.' damning stuff indeed but he does fall and it appears that he falls quickly, but not ignominiously (more knob talk - just look it up).

Brent is not alone in his view, Rebecca Causey thinks the film is 'a long, boring mess' and thinks the flaw is due to a lack of conflict:

There is no inner arc, no inner turmoil that would reveal that he [Belfort] struggles with his choices or regrets anything or even gives his life a second thought. He merely goes from one extravagant act to the next like a whirlwind

Why is that a problem? This film is based on a true story, and maybe Jordon Belfort regretted nothing, except perhaps getting caught. This question of questionable ethics and morality has been observed by man for centuries. Thomas Hobbes argued that we are inherently evil and that 'The Natural State' is one of conflict, but not necessarily inner conflict, in fact it's a constant battle against others to get ahead, everyone for themselves, and no socially derived set of laws have any innate presence with humans. Surely that conflict is arguably present in the film and in Belfort's representation? I think Scorsese highlights exactly this in the final shots of the film, as Belfort looks across a crowd, who have paid to listen to him talk in his capacity as a lifestyle guru. They hang on his every word and appear almost weak in his presence; they know this mans past, his excesses, his morality or lack of it and still want to be like him. They pay money for any insight that would get them to where he was. The capitalist society we've created has the very things that Hobbes described at its heart; the 'American Dream' demands that you take control of your own destiny, but if everyone does that, then it's every wo/man for themselves and if that's the rules, I'm no playing. I don't feel Scorsese's film needs a clear moral centre - fuck that! I don't want it to have a clear moral centre. I want it to do exactly what I feel it does, hold a mirror up to people and more importantly to society.

I want it to ask the audience questions of themselves. I want this film to expose people to themselves, not to Jordan Belfort, at least not to the extent that all they can do is sit in judgement of him. If you feel this man is an 'appealing criminal' then I think you should maybe take a long hard look at your own moral compass and try to decide why the needle would be so attracted to such an openly abusive individual.


Everyone seems to want Scorsese to have the answers, but why should he have them, why don't you?

Catch ye, J