- By Daniel W. Drezner
Daniel W. Drezner is professor of international politics at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University and a senior editor at The National Interest. Prior to Fletcher, he taught at the University of Chicago and the University of Colorado at Boulder. Drezner has received fellowships from the German Marshall Fund of the United States, the Council on Foreign Relations, and Harvard University. He has previously held positions with Civic Education Project, the RAND Corporation, and the Treasury Department.
Half-reformed after prison, Gekko is more anti-hero than villain this time. He is still dazzled by lucre, but also determined to give warning of the dangers of excessive leverage. The real baddies are Bretton James and the securities firm he runs, Churchill Schwartz—perhaps the least disguised fictional name ever. Executives at Goldman Sachs are said to be unamused….
As the financial crisis unfolded, the story was reworked to cast Goldman in a more nefarious light. In the original version, the villain was a hedge-fund manager. But script advisers from the financial world persuaded Mr Stone that an investment banker would be more realistic, since it was banks and securities firms, not “alternative” money managers, that had blown up the system.
Among his counsellors were James Chanos, a well-known short-seller, Anthony Scaramucci, another hedge-fund man, and Nouriel Roubini, an economist who predicted the crisis. Each was rewarded for his efforts with a cameo. Dr Roubini appears as the suitably gloomy Dr Hashimi.
Now I respect Roubini a lot, and in this case he was correct to redirect Stone’s ire away from hedge funds and towards the investment banks.
Still, this information makes me juuuuust a bit wary of the film. The history of political economy advisors for film and fiction is pretty short and undistinguished. The only other instance I can think of in which this occurred was Daniel Okimoto‘s cameo in Michael Crichton’s Rising Sun. That novel — the first of Crichton’s to feature a bibliography, if memory serves — was written at the peak of hysteria about Japan, Inc. Okimoto’s contributions were spot-on, but the book itself was absurdly over the top in terms of Japanese nefariousness (intriguingly, Philip Kaufman’s screen adaptation of Rising Sun holds up better than the novel because it tamped down the Japan-bashing in favor of adding some film noir moodiness).
I don’t like generalizing from one case, but I do wonder whether political economy advisors are used to give film/fiction the patina of intellectual respectibility, thereby allowing the writer/director to go over the top. [What about documentaries? — ed. I’ll outsource that to Will Winecoff.]