At some point during the three hour run-time of The Wolf of Wall Street I started feeling sick.
Not physically. I didn't want to vomit or anything. But mentally, I began tearing down this movie and I just couldn't stop questioning every little thing it did. Actually let me rephrase that... I couldn't stop questioning every BIG thing it did. Indeed nothing about this movie was little. At every corner, the overindulgent nature of its concept took hold and strangled this movie to death.
It's almost as if Scorsese decided that he had to play every trick in the book just to call it a comedy... it's not a comedy. But for some reason we still get nailed over the head with these ridiculous moments that are intended to make us laugh. Character telepathy, awkward narrations, and extensive music video-esque party sequences. Only then we reach the end and it's as if the story missed a step or not even that, simply didn't tell us what we needed to know. I mean, how many three hour comedies have you seen in your life?
Pretty sure the answer to that is zero.
To be fair, I actually didn't hate The Wolf of Wall Street. I just didn't get any real sense of enjoyment out of it. In fact, I think Scorsese frequently made the correct decisions given the nature of the piece. Yes, it's about a cheating stockbroker on Wall Street. Yes, he is an addict who can't stop the party machine that has become his life. Actually overindulgent sounds just about right for this thing. So, I guess what I'm really saying is, The Wolf of Wall Street does exactly what it wants to do and says exactly what it wants to say. But that message is mostly lost on me. I don't know... perhaps that's a good thing.