Jonah Naplan October 8, 2023
“Dumb Money” is a sharply written dramedy that chronicles a perilous time we all lived through and remember. I was just barely on social media when the events of this movie took place in January and February 2021, but I was surprised to find how many of this film’s memes, video clips and TikTok trends I recognized. On the one hand, it’s fascinating to watch how a director approaches a Covid-era biopic, a period I so vividly remember, populated by isolation and uncertainty. On the other, we’re able to stake greater emotional attachment in these characters and circumstances because we distinctly recall watching them on television or through the modern-day news outlet; social media.
Director Craig Gillespie (“I, Tonya,” “Cruella”) spins circles around his powerhouse ensemble of characters, connecting them in virtual but never physical spaces. He takes a similar approach to what Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson do with their respective anthology films, nesting intrigue, tension and stakes into each of his individual stories, conjuring the illusion that they’re all distinctly correlated; but that speculation turns out to be far more spiritual than concrete. His characters—many of whom are a direct reflection of real people—face similar conflicts to each other and go about solving them through strategies indicative of where they find themselves financially, mentally, and personally by that point in their lives.
Paul Dano plays Keith Gill, known by the online pseudonym Roaring Kitty, who spends his time in his rickety basement creating content for the subreddit r/WallStreetBets. Gill prematurely predicted the GameStop stock to skyrocket, orchestrating a short squeeze against the company and convincing his limited viewers to buy shares despite criticism that called him a maniac and plenty of evidence that he’d been wrong about some of his audacious claims in the past. Of course, Gill’s campaign turns out to be accurate, and perhaps rather befittingly to the situation itself, his growing anarchy collides with a trading company called Robinhood whose head, Vlad Tenev (Sebastian Stan), is attempting to negotiate with numerous hedge fund owners to stop investors from buying shares.
When the stock value excelled, Gill became an instant millionaire, but decided to hold onto his share as the value continued to increase and the GameStop company continued to decline amidst a global pandemic. The objective of a hedge fund is to profit on failing companies, gaining more dough from gambling on when an organization will dwindle in finances, lay off employees, and how spectacularly. The screenplay by Rebecca Angelo and Lauren Schuker, which itself is inspired by the book The Antisocial Network by Ben Mezrich, characterizes two definite social groups: the 1% of America (or the “shallow elite”), and the lowest class of eccentric investors, “dumb money.” The juxtaposition between these two clans is amusing, and the film is constantly shifting our perspective on which group is the more dominant. Are the wealthiest investors preying on the meek, while the middle class stand up for those who cannot? Or is it the other way around?
Gillespie puts on his thinking cap and explores this guiding question by introducing us to his splendid ensemble of actors, each of whom step into their roles so swiftly we forget about the celebrity behind the facade, ultimately dismantling the vast scale of financial margins. Gill’s wife Caroline (Shailene Woodley) is the typical supportive but cautious partner of the ambitious husband’s dreams, who acts as the voice of reason behind the insanity of the whole process, while Gill’s free-sailing brother Kevin (Pete Davidson), keeps things crazy, adding that much more of a vulgar touch to the periphery. The movie also flits back and forth between the tumultuous lives of a couple investors in early 2021; beleaguered suburban nurse Jenny (America Ferrera, channeling similar chops to her role in “Barbie”); a spirited GameStop employee named Marcus (Anthony Ramos); and two riotous college students who are both deep into loan debt named Harmony (Talia Ryder) and Riri (Myha’la Herrold). “Dumb Money” also highlights the lives and net worth of some of our country’s most fortunate individuals, namely Seth Rogen as petty billionaire Gabe Plotkin, Vincent D’Onofrio as Steve Cohen, and Nick Offerman, basically just playing a version of himself, as Ken Griffin.
None of these characters ever outshine another, and each are given at least one scene to deliver a good laugh. Only a few ever meet in person—half because of the lingering pandemic, half because their residences are scattered all across the country—but that doesn’t matter because their individual stories feel as though they rely on one another, shaping the circumstances and the outcomes even from such a large disconnect. The movie’s greatest triumph comes from the climax, a Congressional hearing that holds testimonies from most of the movie’s main characters, uniting all the pieces together.
Googling photos and videos of the real Zoom meeting that took place on February 18, 2021 proudly displays the dedication to which the filmmakers have precisely recreated the event. Comparisons have been drawn to the work of politically commentative director Adam McKay, whose films—“The Big Short,” “Vice,” “Don’t Look Up”—veer into the lane of self-parody. But while Gillespie’s picture unfolds with a similar wink and a nod, it lives in a realm of precariousness that is all on its own. “Dumb Money” resides in the space between satire and archaic drama. It could not be subject for straight-faced, scholarly study nor could it derive benefit from being punctuated by slapstick.
And that’s an issue it constantly faces, in small ways and large, as it’s jettisoning callback after callback to make a point of the era’s social status. I can understand the intersplicing of Stephen Colbert, Chris Cuomo, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, but the heavy use of vines, memes, and remarkably unreliable music supervision are transactional choices in a film that is otherwise depicting a very fascinating reality. Even so, Gillespie is never condescending to the viewer, and treats them like a capable human being rather than a toddler who needs to be spoon-fed their financial politics.
Most importantly, “Dumb Money” takes you back to a time when America was still divided and critically injured by the threats and violence of one political party attacking another, periods in which we were always unsure about what was to come our way next and when. Reliving that time sends you on your own path down memory lane, which, of course, is what the movies are supposed to do.
Now playing in theaters.