The white collar gangstas of "Boiler Room" quote the Notorious B.I.G. like he's the gospel. They're testosterone fueled maniac jerks, who knock player haters out for looking at them cockeyed. They're coke heads, they're dropouts. They're immoral. They steal. And they're all Ferrari driving millionaires. Welcome to the new American Dream.
"Boiler Room," which rings so shockingly true (a similar chop-shop stock house was just brought down last week) that a disclaimer greets the onset of it to let you know that it is indeed a work of fiction, is a yiggy yes-y'allin' hip-hop (don't let that cast of white kids fool you) showcase of young talent and macho bravado that makes "Top Gun" look like "The First Wives Club." It's a savvy homage to the workaday epic "Glengarry Glen Ross" and the '80s mirror "Wall Street" that is knowing enough to include direct references to both. It's both fast-paced and engrossing, and leaves audiences pumped to go out there and grab the world by the balls, much like "Rounders" left you wanting to go on a 64-hour Texas No Limit Hold'em grind.
"Within three years with this firm, you will make your first million," says Jim Young (Ben Affleck, essentially playing the Alec Baldwin "Glengarry" role) to a cast of new recruits at JT Marlin, a stockbroking firm of young go-getters that walks and talks like a Wall Street bigwig. He informs them that at 28 years old, he's a dinosaur in the firm. The big-eyed recruits are eager, and include Seth (Giovanni Ribisi), a son of a judge who's successfully run a casino out of his apartment for the last couple of years. But a chance meeting with Greg (Nicky Katt), along with his father's growing distention towards his business practices, brings Seth to JT Marlin looking to go straight and earn an honest dollar. But boy, has he come to the wrong place.
JT Marlin is a front that sells fake stock and false hopes to faceless investors on the other end of the phone. Essentially, they're glorified telemarketers. But as long as you're willing to act completely selfish and soullessly, as long as you're able to close, the sky's the limit to what you can make and your life becomes a series of purchases of toys and endless screenings of "Wall Street" (which leads to the film's best moment, as seven or so guys sit around a TV quoting "Wall Street" word by word).
"Boiler Room's" stellar cast includes Scott Caan ("Varsity Blues"), Jamie Kennedy ("Scream"), Tom Everett Scott ("Dead Man on Campus"), and Vin Diesel ("Pitch Black"), all of whom make memorable impressions as deal closing hotshots who could sell a big screen TV to Stevie Wonder.
The rap-infused soundtrack is not unlike that of "Office Space," and makes for a remarkably Now picture (it's hard to imagine Gordon Gekko rapping along to A Tribe Called Quest or speaking in hip-hop catchphrases, youknowhatimsayin?).
And it's a quotable and easily watchable enough picture that it's a worthy entry into the "Wall Street" and "Glengarry" genre, and it's not hard to imagine a similar film some years down the road referencing "Boiler Room" the way "Boiler Room" does those pictures.
Of course, moralization must occur in the film's closing quarter, and we're left with the sad moral of everything that glitters, yada yada yada.
This occurs in the giving of a face to an investor on the other end of the phone, who trusts Seth and ends up losing his entire savings and his family. But when Seth learns that the FBI is about to take down JT Marlin, he goes out of his way to make retributions for the man, which is highly unlikely, if not over-idealized.
Which is understandable, because hey, this is Hollywood. But it would have been refreshing to see "Boiler Room" go out kicking and screaming, middle finger raised, rather than with a studio-imposed test screening suggested whimper.
"Boiler Room" is the feature film debut of Ben Younger, who both wrote and directed this opus of our times. He has created an expert snapshot of young Hollywood at its best, and gives not only Nicky Katt ("Dazed and Confused"), Vin Diesel and Ben Affleck room to shine, but also a chance for Ribisi to redeem himself after his last couple of pitiful roles ("The Mod Squad," I'm staring at you), and to get back to show the talent that he is. He succeeds, as does everyone around him, and the proof is in the pudding when you get home and sign up for an E*Trade account.
As Biggie himself might have said, it's hypnotizing. But if there's a lesson to be learned, B.I.G. might embody that as well, in that nothing lasts forever, and it can all be over in the blink of an eye.
Biggie as a prophet of virtue and a metaphor for lost dreams. Who knew?