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The Wolf of Wall Street (movie review)

There is no one more surprised than me that a post entitled The Wolf of Wall Street has nothing to do with any of my dogs, but here we are. At one hundred and eighty minutes, The Wolf of Wall Street is a redundant mouthful, but it’s still a lot of fun.

Debauchery, yelling, nudity, infidelity, sex, profanity, drug use, more yelling, more profanity, more sex, more debauchery… rinse, repeat – you get the idea. For some reason, I’m reminded of something my favorite professor, Dr. Steve Ryan, once said: "Michael Corleone wants to be a moral man, but he’s got this problem: he’s the head of the mafia." This movie is sorta like that: it’s a three hour redundant, bloated mess, but I can’t complain much because the flick is a well paced riot that I couldn’t take my eyes off of for a second. It’s violent, loud and annoying, filled with naked woman and crazy people on drugs – so it’s my kind of movie. I can’t imagine anything further from my own reality, so the surreal world of Jordan Belfort is the perfect universe to visit for a day at the movies. I think the only thing that is NOT in this movie is… I dunno… a monster attack, I guess. Otherwise, this movie has everything, and I guess it should – the damn thing is three hours long!

If you like Martin Scorsese movies, I think you’ll dig The Wolf of Wall Street; it’s not his best movie (nor is it Leonardo DiCaprio’s best flick), but it’ll more than get the job done. If you’re not squeamish, I recommend you check it out – just make sure you go to the bathroom first.

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About Jamie Insalaco

Jamie Insalaco is the author of CreativeJamie.com, BomberBanter.com and editor in chief of ComicBookClog.com

Posted on April 7, 2014, in movie review and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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