“I don’t want to survive,” whispers Solomon Northup in 12 Years A Slave: “I want to live!” The Wolf of Wall Street’s Jordan Belfort subscribes to a similar philosophy. Except, for him, even ‘living’ is the consolation prize. “I don’t want to survive,” he roars. “I want to thrive!”

Martin Scorsese’s latest is his vision of the American Dream, and it’s Ozymandias. This debauched real-life story is a gleefully gluttonous gallery of modern hedonism: sin has no right to be this radioactively fun.

The Wolf of Wall Street isn’t a film: it’s a party. But so what? We’re all invited.

The Wolf of Wall Street isn’t Scorsese’s finest hour: it’s a shade too long and doesn’t dwell long enough on its antihero’s eventual downfall. But why do our twisted moral compasses need such appeasement? Rightly or wrongly, by the end of its three hours, we’ve had as much guilty enjoyment as Mr. Belfort.



CAST: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jonah Hill, Margot Robbie, Kyle Chandler, Rob Reiner, Jean Dujardin, Jon Favreau, Matthew McConaughey

DIRECTOR: Martin Scorsese

WRITERS: Terence Winter

SYNOPSIS: The true story of Jordan Belfort, and his life of stocks, shares, sex and drugs.