Despite the title, “Dumb Money,” a new ripped-from-the-headlines dramedy starring Paul Dano, now playing in theatres, is a smart take on how an on-line investment blogger led the French Revolution of Wall Street.
Dano is Keith Gill. By day he’s a financial trader, at night he’s Roaring Kitty, host of a quirky on-line show broadcast from his Brockton, Massachusetts basement. Wearing tie-dyed cat t-shirts, topped with a red headband, he offers up stock advice for a tiny audience, who respond with torrents of abuse. In early 2021 he makes waves when he goes all in, sinking his life’s savings, into an unorthodox hunch.
“Yo! What up everybody,” he says on the show. “Roaring Kitty here. I’m going to pick a stock and talk about why I think it is interesting, and that stock is GameStop.”
Wall Street hedge funders had been short selling the video game retailer’s stock, hoping to profit if the stock fails, but Gill thinks the stock is undervalued, that there is life left in the company. His passion for the GameStop slowly wins over his handful of viewers, who snap up the cheap stock. As more and more people buy, the stock rises, and soon rockets to upwards of $500 a share.
The ”retail traders,” the students and restaurant workers who take Roaring Kitty’s advice, get rich while the billionaire hedge funders, in particular Gabe Plotkin (Seth Rogen) of Melvin Capital, begin to lose money, to the tune of $1 billion a day.
Roaring Kitty becomes an internet sensation, an underdog David against Wall Street’s Goliath.
“A lot of people feel the system is broken,” he says. “The whole idea of the stock market is if you’re smart, and maybe with a little luck, you can make your fortune. Certainly not anymore. There’s no hope for the little guy. But maybe now there is.”
As the stock soars, the mainstream media takes notice, as does the White House and Congress.
“You got the rich dudes pissing their pants,” says Keith’s brother Kevin (Pete Davidson). “They’re coming after you.”
Once you get past the dense financial jargon about short selling, etc, “Dumb Money” is a fist-in-the-air crowd pleaser. It’s a very specific story, based on true events, but there is a Frank Capra-esque quality to the account of outsiders giving the middle finger to power, and, for the most part, winning.
Dano is nicely cast as Gill, an outside who, as an agent of chaos, briefly fought against a rigged system and emerged victorious. In addition to bearing a remarkable resemblance to the real Gill, Dano brings forth the resolute nature of the character, a man who valued the power of the class movement he started more than the dollars that accumulated in his portfolio.
Stealing scenes is Davidson as Keith’s wild card younger brother Kevin. He is as brash as Keith is reserved, as impulsive as his brother is methodical, and provides a blast of energy every time he’s one screen.
“Dumb Money” doesn’t get too bogged down by the financial verbiage, although it may be worth a trip to the “short sell” Wikipedia page before buying a ticket. It’s a rousing, high energy story of leveling the playing field that captures the spirit of the time.
Richard joins Ryan Doyle and Jay Michaels of the NewsTalk 1010 afternoon show to talk about the history of 007’s other favourite drink, the Vesper, some Oscar news and reviews of “Cruella” and “Moby Doc.”
Richard Crouse makes a Salty Dog, the perfect cocktail to enjoy while paying tribute to animal actor stars of “Cruella,” the latest Disney live-action reboot. Come have a drink and a think about “Cruella” with us!
“Cruella,” now available in select theatres and on Disney+ with Premier Access, is an origin story that explains the reason why one of Disney’s greatest villains hates Dalmatians.
One eventful day defined Estella’s (Tipper Seifert-Cleveland) life. In less than twenty-four hours, the precious preteen with the distinctive mop of black and white hair, got kicked out of an upscale private school, snuck into a fashion show and thought, “for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong,“ and developed a lifelong hatred of Dalmatians. I won’t say why, but she does have a good reason to harbor animosity toward the spotted dogs. Most tragically, she lost her mother that same day.
Cut loose and alone, she lands in 1964 London. Falling in with petty thieves Jasper (Joel Fry) and Horace (Paul Walter Hauser), Estella (now played by Emma Stone) forms an impromptu family, pulling off scams using disguises designed and made by her own hand.
Still, she’s not satisfied. “I want to be a professional designer,” she says, “not a thief.”
Securing an entry level job at an upscale department store, she gets the attention of The Baroness (Emma Thompson), a cruel, imperious clothing designer who says things like, “Gratitude is for losers.” She is the undisputed matriarch London fashion and will crush anyone who gets in her way.
As Estella rises through the ranks, she becomes aware of a connection between The Baroness and the death of her mother. Until then, she believed she was responsible for her mother’s passing and had gone through the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Now she adds a sixth stage, revenge.
“I’m starting to remember that you have an extreme side,” says Estella’s old friend Anita Darling (Kirby Howell-Baptiste).
Determined to ruin The Baroness, break her spirit, her confidence and her business. Estella creates an alter ego, the disruptive Cruella. In a series of staged public stunts Cruella humiliates The Baroness and becomes the darling of the fashion world. “Some call her a designer,” a TV talking head breathlessly reports, “some call her a vandal.”
As the “mad, bad and just a little bit sad” Cruella’s antics escalate, Estella’s personality grows fainter. “I’m not sweet Estella, try as I might. I’m Cruella.”
“Cruella” has lots going for it. Great costume design, a rippin’ soundtrack and arch attitude, but by the time the end credits roll, it is all about the dueling Emmas, Stone and Thompson.
“Wow,” says Cruella. “You really are a psycho. “How nice of you to say,” The Baroness snaps back.
Both hand in flamboyant performances that capture the wickedly humorous tone of the story.
Stone’s performance straddles the line between her two characters as Estella’s attempts to fit into the regular world fade, as bits and pieces of Cruella’s anything goes mentality filter through until she goes full-on baddie. The punk rock-glam inspired clothes help in the transformation, but the heart comes from Stone, who does something difficult, bring a tragic heart to a villain.
As The Baroness, Thompson is the is the Queen of the Side Eye. It’s a wonderfully comedic performance, equal parts disdain, evil and ridiculous, she redefines arrogance. Think “The Devil Wears Prada” with a sharper edge. It’s the kind of work you want to watch at least twice to catch all the small bits of business she weaves into the performance.
Propelled by the performances and a music-heavy soundtrack featuring everything from The Doors and Nina Simone to Iggy & The Stooges (this must be the first Disney film to feature the proto-punk tune “I Wanna Be Your Dog”) and Tina Turner, “Cruella” rocks along at a clip until it loses steam near the end as it prepares itself for the sequel.
Until then, however, “Cruella” is the most audacious of the recent live action reimaginings of a classic Disney character.
“I, Tonya” explores the seedy underbelly of a sport you didn’t think had a seedy underbelly. A darkly humorous look at the defining moment of figure skater Tonya Harding’s career, it’s a tale of death threats, broken blades and attempted hobbling.
Margot Robbie is Harding, an elite athlete who sums up her career with, “I was loved for a minute. Then I was hated. Then I was a punch line.” As a young child all she wanted to do was skate. A rink rat from age four, she began winning figure skating awards at a time when her friends were still learning cursive. Her embittered mother LaVona Golden (Allison Janney), the kind of person who stubs out her cigarette out in her mashed potatoes, is a punishing presence, pushing her relentlessly to be the best. “You’re not here to make friends,” she screeches when young Tonya pauses to say hello to a fellow skater. “That girl is your enemy.”
With the help of trainer Diane Rawlinson (Julianne Nicholson) Harding rises through the ranks, developing an aggressive and athletic style that sees her out skate most of her competitors to become the first skater to complete a triple axel combination with the double toe loop. Trouble is, her homemade costumes, Trashy Tonya nickname and hair trigger temper are not accepted by the skating establishment. “You’re not the image we want to portray,” she’s told. “You’re representing our country and we want a wholesome American family.”
To even the playing field husband Jeff Gillooly (Sebastian Stan) hatches a plan to unnerve Tonya’s biggest threat on the ice—Nancy Kerrigan (Caitlin Carver). What starts off as psychological warfare against a competitor snowballs into “The Incident,” a scandalous affair vaults Harding’s name into the headlines. On January 6, 1994, just six weeks before the Lillehammer Olympics, unbeknownst to Harding, a thug, hired by Gillooly’s friend and co-conspirator Shawn Eckardt (Paul Walter Hauser), broke Kerrigan’s knee as she walked through a corridor at Cobo Arena immediately after a practice session. “The Incident” made front page news and eventually saw Harding ousted from the sport she loved.
Director Craig Gillespie keeps the tone light and lively but presents Harding in a light never before seen. Framing her as an abused woman, first by her mother, then Gillooly and finally, devastatingly, by the press and the public—“You’re all my abusers,” she says directly to camera.—creates sympathy for a woman who has been widely vilified and mocked.
Robbie dons blue nail polish, perms her hair, chants her “It wasn’t my fault” mantra and hits a career high as the self-described redneck skater who had a shot at the big time. Bold and brassy, it’s a fourth wall breaking performance that could have slid into caricature but doesn’t. It’s a warts and all portrayal that doesn’t try and pull on your heart-strings or pander to easy theatrics. In Robbie’s hands Harding is still rough around the edges—“Nancy gets hit one time,” she complains, “and it’s life altering event.”—but “I, Tonya” looks beyond the Trashy Tonya image so often portrayed in the press to transform the punch line into a person.
In a movie full of showy roles Janney shines brightly. As the chain-smoking LaVona she’s a foulmouthed force of nature that belittles her daughter at every turn. “She skates better when she’s enraged,” she hacks. When its own style occasionally bogs the movie down Janney shows up like a bad penny to keep things interesting.
“I, Tonya” is “based on irony free, often contradictory interviews” with the main players in Harding’s life. As a result it’s messy, but this is a messy story about a woman who paid a heavy price for daring to be herself. Not conforming cost her everything but you get a sense, by the end of the film, it’s a price she was willing to pay.
