The Big Short is a comedic adaptation of Michael Lewis’ The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine, which I may read since I enjoy Lewis’ work, about the financial crisis of 2007-2008 starring Christian Bale and Steve Carrell with an abbreviated performance by Brad Pitt. The Big Short has a docudrama feel with an Arrested Development rhythm in its approach to profiling a handful of men who realized that financial institutions did not have sound judgment in the mortgage market and decided to profit from the impending collapse. The narrator, another man who exploited the downturn, played by Gosling, ties together the concurrent stories. When the market collapses, but no one seems to notice, especially the institutions that are supposed to be regulating them, they are outraged by the corruption and their inability to reap the rewards of this crisis as soon as they should, which puts them in a financially precarious position.
The Big Short constantly reminds viewers that we are watching an artificially constructed narrative. It evoked the same pleasure that I felt when I was watching Richard Linklater’s Bernie as if you have special access to an unfamiliar world. The Big Short takes visual tangents to express the emotion of the scene by intercutting scenes from the movie with clips from pop culture such as music videos or viral videos. It segues into explanations of financial terms by using celebrities to explain-the first time is a visual reference to The Wolf of Wall Street. Segments are punctuated with pithy quotes to set the mood. Some of these quotes are authentic (“Everyone, deep in their hearts, is waiting for the end of the world to come”-Haruki Murakami), and some are constructed specifically for the film (“Truth is like poetry and most people fucking hate poetry”). Characters will periodically break the fourth wall by indicating to the audience whether or not the movie is lying and how it actually happened. The movie gains credibility by creating an illusion of transparency and referencing our shared cultural context to create an understanding and approachability that most people do not feel when discussing the financial sector. It also subconsciously borrows from the heist thriller genre by assembling a slick ensemble cast and using a familiar trope of socially maladjusted men to pull off the scheme.
There is the guy who wears shorts regardless of the weather or the setting, the miserable, pushy debunker, the survivalist, the precocious but inexperienced newbies, the slick dude bro salesman and the cluster of more socially acceptable, but equally profane and aggressive employees. All of them are obsessed with the minutiae work and though their families are referenced, we rarely see them. Their emotional palette is limited. They are not depicted as sexual beings and are less interested in sexual situations than financial. Their badgering and ambition is pleasurable. Their antisocial behavior is implicitly praised by the movie as what sets them apart from their colleagues. They are all white men and likeable because of, not in spite of their flaws. We reward them for being different.
I did not see The Big Short in the movie theater despite only hearing accolades because I’m unwilling to financially support the image that women, though under represented, are not playing pivotal roles in the financial sector. Movies like The Big Short and Too Big to Fail are usually sausage fests. It is particularly hard to embrace these movies when you lived during the era that it depicts and know that women such as Sherry Hunt and Alayne Fleischmann, who may not be currently working, took big personal risks to become whistleblowers and tried to stop the financial apocalypse. While watching the movie, I found myself personally emotional.
I had an epiphany. I actually knew about the impending financial collapse even though I had no insider knowledge and devoted zero time to these markets. I did work in the financial sector, but nothing related to the mortgage market. When I graduated from law school, I began looking for houses and approached banks that I had a working relationship with to see how much I could borrow. I was making good money (more than I do now), but the amount that they were willing to offer me, including on properties that had some unique characteristics that would make them less desirable if I decided to resell, was severely disproportionate and insane. I immediately realized that I could not let a bank guide me in what I could afford, but I would have to decide myself. I also told anyone who would listen that all the money in tech companies was going to collapse just as an outside observer. I’m fairly good at predicting things long before they happen, but spectacularly oblivious as to how to financially exploit this gift. More importantly, no one is remotely interested in exploiting this talent. Instead I am rebuked for being Debbie Downer and when later vindicated, it does not add to my future credibility, but brushed aside, and I return to the vacuum of being ignored or disapproved of at the next topic of conversation. Women don’t get to be socially awkward, aggressive, ambitious, right and rewarded in the real or fictional world. The closest image that we get is The Devil Wears Prada, and she is a dubious role model though I’d rather be the bitch than the women in this movie.
Other than the early 70s era period scene at the beginning of The Big Short, flawed financial institutions are usually personified as white women or men of color. The Deutsche Bank reps who meet with Christian Bale’s character are a white woman and an Indian man. Another Asian man, a VDO manager, is depicted as arrogant, selfish and foolish. The SEC is embodied as a flightly ex-girlfriend in a bikini looking for her next sugar daddy and not doing her job. Standard & Poor is depicted as a temporarily blind, older woman, played by the delightful Melissa Leo, unwilling to tell the truth about the market’s collapse. Black women only come off as moderately better. They act as unreliable gatekeepers (literally as security guards) and protectors of these institutions or our quirky cast of characters as Kathy, the Morgan Stanley supervisor, but ultimately their adherence to the status quo and distraction of wanting to have a personal life, i.e. a family, makes them weak. The reckless borrowers are strippers hiding their untaxed income. Black women are also depicted as video vixens.
There are only two good, perfect women in the movie, and one of them is the wife of Bale’s character only depicted as a disembodied voice of concern or smiling in a photograph. She exists only in relation to him, and not as an independent person. He describes her and defines her. Marisa Tomei as the patient, concerned wife who is worried about Carrell’s character plays the other good woman. The only good woman is a woman who remains in the home and tends to the men’s emotional health. The good Asian guy appears briefly and is a mostly silent supporter of the main cast of characters who accepts being exploited and characterized by racial stereotypes as the model minority. A Hispanic family is depicted tragically as collateral damage.
Disclaimer: I have not read the book so if indeed in real life, all the people who acted irresponsibly were women and men of color, then I have no problem with the movie accurately depicting them as such and throwing them under the bus. If they were not, then The Big Short is sending an unfortunate message to audiences. The Big Short’s women and men of color who venture into the public realm, white masculine spaces, will cause the financial apocalypse unless they take a subordinate, supporting role to those who know more and belong in these spaces, our group of white male misfits. The movie supports the status quo of men’s social life influencing work spaces because you have the right neighbor or party with the right guy instead of actual work. Even though the movie does depict white men who adhere to the image of the status quo as complicit in the economy’s downfall, they are less flashy and exuberant with the exception being the real estate salesmen.
In spite of this unfortunate hopefully inadvertent messaging, I really enjoyed The Big Short and watched it two times. It has been a long time since I’ve seen Christian Bale really act that I almost began to question whether or not he is actually a good actor, but he really is the foundation and touchstone of this film and disappears into his character. Even though I like Steve Carrell, I get mildly annoyed that he easily gets praise for playing similar types of characters and never completely submerges himself into the character, but I have to begrudgingly give him credit rigorously staying in character, particularly in relation to others. Jeremy Strong regularly steals the spotlight in scenes packed with headliners and made himself memorable enough that I have begun to notice him in other films such as Molly’s Game. Tracy Letts disappears into his characters, but I’ve begun to recognize him after adoring his performance as the father in Lady Bird so I was thrilled to see him in this film and The Post. I’m beginning to wonder whether Gosling is overrated since his performance in this film and The Ides of March is almost indistinguishable except for accent, hair and wardrobe.
I highly recommend that you watch The Big Short with the caveat that you remember that despite their glee in puncturing the façade of one societal construct, they are upholding another that does not actually reflect reality and causes as much real world damage to more than just women and minorities. By undermining images of diversity, which are actually the faces of whiste blowers and vision, we rationalize ignoring them in real life when they act as Cassandras trying to steer us away from the Scylla and Charybdis