There is a moment that comes in the second half of Iranian film director Ali Abbasi’s film, “The Apprentice,” or as I call it, “Trump: The Prequel,” where Donald Trump, played by actor Sebastian Stan, has his manhood called into question by his wife Ivana, played by Maria Bakalova. The Don, hopped up on too many diet pills to perform anymore, shows Ivana just who’s boss in the relationship. For those who may have forgotten, the scene serves as a reminder: Oh, yeah, Donald Trump sexually assaulted his first wife. And for those less familiar with the backstory on the former president, the moment provides a refresher course that the man responsible for taking away a woman’s constitutional right to her reproductive choices sexually assaulted his first wife.
Those coming into “The Apprentice” hoping for sensationalism may be surprised at the film’s first half, which offers almost an empathetic portrait of a wealthy white man living under the shadow of his overbearing rich father. There is nearly a Kennedyesque kinship between Donald’s desire to prove himself to his real estate mogul dad, Fred, and the way John and Robert needed to prove themselves to Papa Joseph Kennedy. In a not-so-ironic tie-in, JFK and DJT would both ascend the presidency.
In Abbasi’s film, when we first meet “The Donald,” he’s portrayed as his father’s errand boy, collecting rent at one of his father’s all-white Coney Island tenements. Stan’s DJT, which features prominently as a three-letter monogram on his limo, wants to break away from under his father’s shadow, and make a name for himself in Manhattan real estate, by renovating the shuttered Commodore hotel in mid-town, near the Chrysler building. Only two things stand in his way: the feds and New York City taxes.
The Trump Organization (Fred Trump) is under criminal investigation for its racist rental policies, and it’s not looking good for Father T-dog. Until the Trump name gets clear, little Donny isn’t getting any building projects off the ground.
Enter the infamous Roy Cohn. Cohn was one of the most notorious figures of the latter 20th Century, a ruthless, cutthroat, and devious lawyer to the wealthy. He helped execute Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, was cozy with Joseph McCarthy, and, in the first half of “The Apprentice,” he plays a devilish mentor to Donald Trump. Through coercion and blackmail, Cohn clears the way for Trump to make his dreams of building an empire come true.
Cohn, performed to absolute perfection in a startling, amazing turn by Jeremy Strong, is reprehensible but hypnotic, and one can’t help but find some bizarre kinship for this guy. Perhaps that ability to simultaneously repel and attract is why someone like Trump remains relevant. Clearly, Trump is terrible, off his rocker, and not someone you’d want leading a one-person parade down a 10 foot-long alley, never mind helming one of the most powerful nations on earth, but his ability to promise the moon while delivering nothing but pop rocks is a formula that hasn’t run out of consumers. Strong’s Cohn sees something in Stan’s Trump and recognizes that the guy’s charisma and “I won’t say no” attitude could take him places.
And it’s in this first hour, firmly set in the 1970s, where you’ll find yourself most vested in “The Apprentice.” Stan plays Trump as kind of a low-cultured wimp, and the characterization doesn’t seem too far off from the real version. He has no artistic sensibilities, and in a brilliant and hilarious scene, Trump finds himself striking up a conversation with one of the most recognizable artists of the day, Andy Warhol, and sincerely having no clue as to who he is and what he does. Stan, who’s building up an exciting resume playing real-life characters such as Tommy Lee and Jeff Gillooly, disappears into the role of Donald Trump. And by disappear, I mean you will be hard-pressed to recognize Sebastian Stan, the actor, almost as much as you’ll be hard-pressed to identify any resemblance to the real Donald Trump. Stan doesn’t much resemble the man who we all know too well. But that doesn’t hinder the film. Stan knows he can’t look or sound like the real McCoy, and he doesn’t try for an imitation. Instead, Stan goes the performance route and taps into some of the mannerisms and phrasings, even giving us those bizarre Trump sniffs towards the end of the movie. It serves the film better than if he were performing under 40 pounds of face makeup or some CGI recreation.
Abbasi’s filmmaking style is quite effective. He opts for a 1.33:1 square format aspect ratio, shot in 16mm. This choice gives the film a dirty, gritty documentary style and lends authenticity to the reaction of 1970s New York. It’s a bit of a marvel that the film so closely mirrors the look of New York City in the 1970s, a clever marriage of stock footage, art direction, costumes, and cinematography. Abbasi, whose prior film, “Holy Spider,” showed promise, makes it known here that he is a filmmaker to watch. For a time, the screenplay, the performances, and Abbasi’s direction are firing on all cylinders, and one can scarcely believe a movie about the early rise of Donald Trump could be so great.
The unholy marriage between Trump and Cohn makes for a fascinating 60 minutes. If comparisons of Trump and Hitler persist due to DT’s continual if unintentional (are they unintentional?) misuse of past Hitler speeches and rhetoric, then it isn’t so far a stretch to see Donald Trump’s relationship with Roy Cohn as symbiotic to that of Adolph Hitler and Ernst Röhm. Like Cohn’s support of Trump, Röhm was one of Hitler’s earliest and loudest champions. Röhm and Cohn were both homophobic and antisemitic, although both privately were gay. Cohn, ever a puzzling dichotomy of who he was and what he portrayed, was also Jewish but threw around antisemitic slurs like party favors.
And when both Hitler and Trump achieved a level of success that outlived the use of their one-time allies, these one-time apprentices discarded their masters. Röhm found himself executed as part of the SS takeover of the SA in the Night of Long Knives. Cohn, as he fought a losing battle with AIDS (which he denied publicly having,) found himself on the outside of Donnie’s inner circle and couldn’t get him on the phone.
The film’s second half does explore the crumbling relationship between Cohn and Trump, but it isn’t as in-depth, interesting, or fun as the rise of their union in the first half.
That is the most significant issue with “The Apprentice.” Once the 1980s occur, and the film shifts to a sort of VHS-quality aesthetic, the Trump rise to power is not that interesting. The shortcomings of the man are on full display, yet there is no empathy. The path to success forged by Cohn’s influence destroys any remaining humanity in Trump, and all that’s left is a guy with big ideas but little else. Donald Trump likes making a deal. That’s the thrill for him, but the rest is of little interest. His pursuit of Ivana Trump is like his real estate deals. Winning her over and making her his wife is the deal to seal, but afterward, he couldn’t care less.
Although the film ends with writer Tony Schwartz interviewing Trump for what will become their best-selling book, “The Art of the Deal,” we already know what happens in the sequel. The movie wraps up on a bit of a soggy note. And perhaps that’s the point. There isn’t much depth to Donald Trump, and the fact that a filmmaker could keep an audience engaged in his story for as long as he does is a triumph. I, for one, wasn’t sure I wanted to make this viewing journey and was surprised at how interesting it was—for a time. If nothing else, the film is worth watching for the standout Jeremy Strong performance, which is commendable enough for awards consideration. Depending on the final results of Nov. v, one way or the other, people will have had enough of DJT to last a lifetime, and awarding this film may prove too tough a pill to swallow for some.
James Kent is the publisher’s assistant at The Mountain Times and the co-host of the “Stuff We’ve Seen” podcast. If you have a film or television show you’d like him to review, please email him at editor@mountaintimes.info.
