WALL STREET (1987) ** Criminally dull people acting precariously petty while saying absolutely nothing of interest in absurdly decorated rooms. Of course this is the kind of role that Michael Douglas is good at. Significantly more powerful on its release, but always over-rated along the magnitude of The Graduate, what once sounded like computer chip prophecies now sound like pasted on oratories masterminding the obvious. More important, in retrospect, is how Oliver Stone and Martin Sheen have stuck to their political guns, in contrast to, for example, the models who gained a lot of free publicity by opposing fur one year then were shortly back on the runway wearing it once the spotlight had moved on. Sheen is also the only consistent actor to show his face, even Douglas leaves you wondering why he's screaming incriminating things about himself in Central Park to a gopher whom he knows has just been busted. Daryl Hannah is neither profound nor pretentious enough to convince as anyone with connections to the NYC world of art, even at the apartment decorator level, even as she leads a cast of the most mutated women ever seen outside 1950s sci-fi. Charlie Sheen is often adequate in the slower moments, but resembles nothing so much as an undisciplined sheepdog who's just noted a squirrel in a tree during the dramatic scenes. Stone's five second cameo was the best moment. Traditional values. What are they really?
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