Is it just me, or do Oliver Stone’s movies – across the board – resemble big, hard penises? And who is a bigger dick than Michael Douglas in this movie? And I know that I am supposed to hate him, but to be honest, Gordon Gecko is an inspiration. I need to learn to be more aggressive; think less about creating, and more about owning, becoming a real player.
J/K.
Wall Street somehow succeeds because Stone has matched his cloying style of filmmaking with one of the few subjects greasy enough to handle it. He does 80s hedonism better than Mary Harron did it in American Psycho because he understands that you don’t need the murder-as-metaphor to make it brutal. Just show those guys like they were, give or take a little David Mamet style grandiosity, and leave it at that.
And! Oh! There’s the added bonus of the “interior design” scene: Daryl Hannah slaps fake exposed brick and soooo-80s art all over Charlie Sheen’s new Upper East Side apartment, making it look like a set for some early VH1 talk show, all set to Talking Heads’ “Naive Melody.”
Hoooome … is where I want to be. Nice.
by Teddy Blanks | Source: Streaming Video
10 Jan 2008 11:08 PM | Submit Comment
