Wall Street (1987)
Wall Streeti is an entirely forgettable piece of crap. The writing's substantially worse than the cringefest one'd encounter in run-of-the-mill made-for-TV Italian softcore of the period. Except, of course, naked women don't grow in America ; not to mention any sort of relationship whatsoever between the supposed subject and its cinematic treatment. I have no idea who the fuck was doing their consulting, but Kenyan street urchins'd have gotten it about as close.
The film's strictly notable for delivering the simple truth that "America is now a second-rate power", which was strictly true back then. Things haven't worked out all that well for them in the interim, either. There's also some coincidental capture of period artefacts such as a trading pit from before the Internet. Uninteresting as they may be to those of us for whom daily practice has reduced their appeal and dulled their magic while expressed beyond the tolerable all the nagging imperfections, happy as we might be to never encounter them again because we've seen enough of their dumb shit for ten lifetimes, nevertheless for the young they're fascinating. They never lived, and most of what'd constitute a human life's long gone by the time anyone asked them anything. What can you do ?
Preferably not have to show them this, it's atrociously bad. Women gifting doesn't work like this, seduction doesn't work like this, nothing fucking works like this. Charlie Sheen's father's pretty cool, I guess, and certainly an archetype ; then watching Shitglass try and deliver the speech that made De Vito famous and then fail could be entertaining, I suppose. But all in all, this piece of shit's much less worth watching than bad porn.
So go do that, instead.
———- 1987, by Oliver Stone, with Charlie Sheen an' his dad, Hal Holbrok and an anonymous moron -- hey, can you name a not-terrible film with Shitglass in it ?! [↩]
