Money Monster - review

“Money Monster” begins with a jolt of satire, proceeds through a maze of beat-the-clock exposition and lands on a surprisingly gentle, sentimental note. Along the way, this speedy, self-assured thriller, nimbly directed byJodie Foster from a packed script by Jamie Linden, Alan DiFiore and Jim Kouf, looses bullhorn blasts of topical outrage on matters of grave public concern. The financial system is rigged. The news media is corrupt. Millennials spend a lot of time in coffee shops

But this is not really a movie intended to stir up populist anger. It assumes — correctly in this election year — that the anger is out there already and that nobody really needs to be told not to trust Wall Street or cable television. Unlike, say, “The Big Short,” “Money Monster” is not offering explanation or catharsis. Instead, it supplies a curious sort of comfort. (And also some pretty good laughs along the way.) Corporate bigwigs may be robbing us blind and celebrity pseudo-journalists may be lying to our faces, but as long as there are some old-school movie stars left in the world we can feel a little better about the state of things.

In other words, you will not necessarily learn anything here about how TV or high finance really work, but you will be invited to enjoy the illusion of such enlightenment in the skilled and charismatic company of Julia Roberts and George Clooney. Mr. Clooney, playing the Jim Cramerish host of a loud, slick investment-advice broadcast (also called “Money Monster”), is doing his most fully Clooneyesque work in a while. His brand is in full effect: the silver hair, the gravelly voice, the arrogant strut camouflaging a core of basic decency.

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Mr. Clooney’s character, Lee Gates, is the kind of charming, egotistic broadcast peacock who requires a tough, honest, outwardly-cynical-but-secretly-idealistic, behind-the-scenes superego. That would be Ms. Roberts’s Patty Fenn. The two stars are rarely onscreen together — circumstances conspire to keep Lee on set, under the lights, while Patty sits in the semidarkness of the control room whispering instructions into his earpiece — but their interaction is the electrical circuit that powers everything else.

That everything else is a hostage drama wrapped around an ostensibly complicated global caper. Most of the action takes place in the “Money Monster” studio, but the claustrophobia — or the lingering threat of staginess — is relieved by visits to the sleek corporate suites of Ibis Clear Capital, a company whose stock, repeatedly plugged by Lee on the air, has recently taken a tumble. The camera also pops over to Seoul, Reykjavik and Johannesburg for a beat or two to remind us just how big this story is.

The local, human dimension — the reminder of how small the story is — arrives in the person of Kyle Budwell (Jack O’Connell), who interrupts Lee’s program with a gun, an explosive-packed vest and a serious grudge. Encouraged by Lee, he gambled his modest nest egg on Ibis and lost it all. Now he wants answers, not only from the television host who steered him wrong but also from the company’s chief executive (Dominic West). The big boss, however, is suspiciously AWOL, and the only Ibis executive willing to talk is the company’s top flack (Caitriona Balfe).

I mentioned movie stars. Mr. O’Connell certainly has the potential to become one — the intensity, the emotional commitment, the ability to magnetize attention when projecting regular-guyness — even if his attempt at an outer-borough Noo Yawk accent grates on the ears. What’s equally striking about “Money Monster” is the presence, in supporting roles, of excellent actors best known for their small-screen work. One of the film’s incidental pleasures is the game of cable-drama trainspotting it invites. Fans of “Outlander” will be happy to see Ms. Balfe. Mr. West will stir up memories of “The Wire” and “The Affair.” And look! There’s Giancarlo Esposito (“Breaking Bad”), Chris Bauer (also “The Wire”), John Ventimiglia (“The Sopranos”).

It’s impossible for a single movie to give such performers enough to do, but Ms. Foster makes room for each one to have a moment or two for the highlight reel. (It’s also worth mentioning Dennis Boutsikaris, Condola Rashad, Christopher Denham and Lenny Venito.) The quality of the acting both enhances the credibility of the narrative and exposes some of its weak points. You may raise an eyebrow at just how quickly Kyle’s potential victims rally to his side. This seems less like Stockholm syndrome than wish fulfillment.

The movie wants to make sure we understand that this guy may have a gun and a bomb, but he also has a point. A literal-minded reading of “Money Monster” might see it as an argument for the efficacy of terrorism. Kyle’s methods may be extreme, but they work, kind of. They are also symbolic, of course, and part of a long and rich tradition of agitated agitprop movie fantasy. He’s as mad as hell, and he’s not gonna take it anymore. The rest of us will, and in the mean time we’ll have some fun watching him blow his stack.

“Money Monster” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). Swearing on live television. Is nothing sacred? Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes.

Thanks to Newyork Times.