Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps (2010)

It’s been ages since I saw Oliver Stone’s “Wall Street.” The 1987 classic is a blur to me, but Michael Douglas’ portrayal of Gordon Gekko – the hedonistic shark who swum in evil – remains in memory. Who knew a whole generation of real Wall Street tycoons would take Gekko as God, and bring about economic turmoil that nearly crippled our nation? With Stone’s return to Gekko’s world, I thought the man would burn furiously as he tackles the 2008 economic crash. No. Forget the trading floor, this is a dead slaughterhouse of missed opportunities, ham-fisted symbolism, and an outrageously happy climax that betrays every point that comes before it, and every principle held by those who distrust unguarded capitalism. We focus on hothead stockbroker Jake (Shia LaBeouf), whose girlfriend (Carey Mulligan) is the daughter of Gekko, himself eight years out of prison. Gekko sees our hero as an “in” to his daughter; Jake sees Gekko as an “in” to ambition. This triangle raises questions it can’t answer, including, “Why would a left-wing reporter who hates Wall Street live with a stock broker cub shark?” Pathetically, Stone no longer cares if “greed is good” or not as he races to a ludicrous ending. D

Savages (2012)

Oliver Stone returns with “Savages,” a grisly flick that follows drug dealer best friends who sell California’s most-in-demand weed. Chon (Taylor Kitsch) is scared-by-war ex-military, while Ben (Aaron Johnson) is a hippie botanist with a penchant for mission work. They are yin and yang, with O (Blake Lively), the surfer girl drug addict they share an ocean-side home and bed with, in circle’s center. “Savages” gets to its title fast as a Mexican drug cartel (led by Salma Hayek) busts in with a do-or-die business proposal. This is a nasty and sickly funny production, hallucinogenic as anything Stone has made. Yet gun-shot holes pop loud as a double-barreled ending serves ludicrously tragic followed by ludicrously pat, while much dialogue grinds as when O speaks of Chon: “I have orgasms, he has wargasms.” Huh? Loved: How Hayek and her thugs look on perplexed as the gringos piss away life and family. Hated: Hayek deliciously serves up the notion that the guys love each other more so than O, and the revelation is left dead and forgotten like the myriad bodies that fill this tale. The “Butch Cassidy” references only hinder. B-

W. (2008)

Oliver Stone’s “W.” is a draft screenplay looking for a reason to exist. This portrait of George W. Bush (played by Josh Brolin) was released in theaters well before the 43rd president handed over the White House keys to Barack Obama. Why the rush? Rather than go bare-knuckle serious and deep as in “Nixon,” this desperate satire tosses stale “SNL” jokes at the audience, hoping for a giggle. The “humor” consists of Bush getting rat-fucked at a college party and later choking on a pretzel as the Prez. Stone has nothing substantial to say, and treats his title character as a dumb-struck audience member to his own life. The lame attempts at dream psychology are middle school at best. Shockers are the juice of Stone’s best work. Yet there are none here. Conspiracies about oil grabs, Bush marching to God’s drum, or Cheney’s plans for a world ruled by an all-powerful America, like Rome before Christ, are nothing new to anyone with a New Yorker subscription in 2006. Stone treats each revelation with hushed awe. I yawned. The cast is stellar, especially Richard Dreyfuss as a Cheney, and barely save the film. C-