by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
In a 2018 edition of the Hollywood Reporter’s Writers Roundtable, moderator Stephen Galloway begins by posing a hypothetical prompt to the table: If you were hired to write a feature film about then-president Donald Trump, where would you start, and what’s the challenge? While Peter Farrelly sidesteps the question entirely out of an adherence to political neutrality, and Paul Schrader states he would simply refuse to work on such a project for the betterment of his own mental health, the rest of the table does entertain the question by offering some varied and interesting responses. John Krasinski’s take centers on forgoing a centralized biopic approach in favor of observing the people who surround Trump at various levels to get a broader take on someone so polarizing. Tamara Jenkins envisions a visual motif in the form of a building she often sees in New York, with an old “Trump Pavilion” placard that evokes a structure which was destined to be forgotten. Both Eric Roth and Bo Burnham reject the idea of using satire as a mechanism in exploring Trump’s story, as they each find that avenue to be uninspired. Roth goes a bit further in stating he is incapable of seeing any Shakespearean quality of in Trump, and is therefore unable to find a humanity in the former president, even as a cinematic construct. Burnham brings up the idea of exploring a version of Trump during his adolescence, reflecting the ideas and attitudes put forth by his paternal relationships, while also straying from any glamorous aspects of his life in favor of something natural and cold.
As someone who has watched several videos from this roundtable series, this is a particular segment that’s stuck with me. The disparity of reactions and approaches for how to tackle this one person in a cinematic form is so vast. But in 2024, we now have an answer to the question.
The Apprentice would happen to be that film. While I’ve never seen a single second of the reality show that bears the same name, The Apprentice slots in excellently as an all-encompassing thesis statement which befits Ali Abbasi’s film perfectly. And on the subject of Abbasi, his inclusion on this project feels particularly notable when it comes to gaining a strong sense of what a director’s influence is for their respective picture. Without belaboring too deeply into this point, it does feel notable that this film was directed by someone who is not from America. Abbasi’s unique perspective as a director who has primarily worked outside of the American studio system feels integral in how he (as well as the script) views Trump not only as a character, but as he would put it, “a human being.” In considering Abbasi’s previous directorial efforts, movies like Border and Holy Spider come with a heavy dosage of unease as they develop.
The Apprentice doesn’t have the added flair of the fantasy or thriller genres that is embedded in those films, but it does carry over the same unsettling atmosphere. Kasper Tuxen’s distressing and grainy cinematography moves mountains in, if not fleshing out, the world that is being presented, then establishing the time period to truly feel like a historical VHS tape. I would go as far as to designate that choice in style as perhaps the most subtle aspect of the movie. That isn’t meant to disparage other elements of the movie, but I do come to understand one’s critiques of the movie straying too far towards predictability or not having anything unique to say.
It would be a bit of an overstatement to insist that The Apprentice is a movie like none I’ve ever seen, because there are bits and pieces that come to mind from other media which could dilute its originality if that’s the lens one chooses to view this movie from. I do nonetheless believe quite firmly that the movie does achieve the goal it sets out to accomplish in painting a fair and accurate portrait of one of the most recognizable figures of our time. In referring back to how one would approach writing a movie about Donald Trump (portrayed here by Sebastian Stan), the movie’s sole writer Gabriel Sherman did plenty of his own research on the subject of not just Trump, but a figure entirely new to me, Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong). Beginning in the midst of the 2016 presidential election, Sherman began writing the screenplay for The Apprentice with at least one goal in mind: an origin story that didn’t copy and paste the figure that we know today, but harken back to an experience that was lived and breathed by two individuals in a time of New York’s history with ample space for corruptive expansion.
Sherman had previously penned The Loudest Voice in the Room, a book which covered the controversies of another high profile figure in Roger Ailes. With this experience in hand, on top of his work as a journalist for New York Magazine, I solidly expected that the script for The Apprentice wouldn’t devolve into what Trump himself has gone on to describe as a “hatchet job.” Combined with Abbasi’s desire to examine the system of corruption which allowed for Trump to rise to such power, the end product sings to me as what I am choosing to interpret as the Donald Trump movie.
The completion of the screenplay predates anything that was said in the Hollywood Reporter roundtable, but it’s interesting how many similarities could be made in what was said then to what’s in the actual film. Gone is the symbolism of a derelict Trump Pavilion, as we instead bear witness to the reconstruction of the Hyatt Grand from what was a condemned Commodore Hotel. Trump is still the film’s central figure, but we do see how he is viewed from the ensemble who existed alongside him over the decade-plus span of time between the ‘70s and ‘80s. You won’t find any satire throughout the film’s runtime, as portions do candidly delve into the cold mundanity of Trump’s business dealings and familial home life. But above all else, for as much as some might disagree on this point, there is some Shakespeare to be found. There is humanity.
The narrative of Trump’s humble beginnings as a businessman in the shadow of his father does lay the ground for where the viewer finds themselves by the end of the picture. It’s easy to plant all the eggs into whatever mystery may exist in Trump’s backstory as daddy issues, but it’s never just that. Alongside Fred Trump Sr. (Martin Donovan), we also look towards Donald’s brother, Fred Jr. (Charlie Carrick). The dynamic of that trio within a family is not particularly secret. It’s all but a matter of public record, but when transferred over to the cinematic form, it does make good on its justifying its purpose in the story. The same goes for the introduction of Donald’s first wife, Ivana Zelníčková (Maria Bakalova). Despite having a lot less screen time than her main acting partner, Bakalova adeptly establishes herself as a figure with agency that, while not solely designed to elicit sympathy from the viewer, does factor into how we view Trump as someone with internal characterization. Like you and me, he is capable of feeling many things. Be it grief and despair or lust and joy, everything we see Trump do and say in this film comes with a reason to stand behind it. In a way, that’s kind of all I could really ask for, as I’m not interested in seeing a film that approaches its subject with a didactic viewpoint of disapproval. I would be just as dismayed were it made with the same intent as Vindicating Trump, but luckily Abbasi and Sherman make good on sticking to their truth. But even beyond that, there are two even grander pillars that elevate the film from being watchable to bordering on riveting.
Stan and Strong comprise the main relationship of the film and to the surprise of absolutely no one, it feels like a home run for ages as far as performance duos go. There is a slight cheekiness to seeing Strong fully arrive at the end goal that his Succession counterpart of Kendall Roy so deeply wished to, but that would almost do a disservice to the character of Cohn. So sly and devilish is Strong from the very first frame he appears on screen, that it’s so disheartening upon seeing him for the last. The mentor-mentee relationship is not the only dynamic one can sense between Trump and Cohn, as there is a bit of subjective interpretation at play for the viewer to decide for themselves. But for whichever conclusion one ultimately arrives at, there’s no denying the sheer embodiment on display from Stan and Strong falls nothing short of magnificent. With his performance in A Different Man still rearing in my mind, I can only marvel at how that can be counterbalanced by Stan’s portrayal of Trump. I don’t wish to compare or dub one as better than the other, but it’s a real Sophie’s choice in even allocating which one is the more transformative performance. I once heard someone say that when this movie would eventually come to pass, there would be no one better suited to perform this role than Phillip Seymour Hoffman. And while I do satiate over that prospect in another life, Stan is every bit as transformative as Hoffman would be. In what feels like the antithesis of Alec Baldwin’s SNL mimicry, Stan dons the look and attitudes of Trump not just to reiterate who this person was before he became the leader of a nation, but to actively follow him for two hours in his journey from becoming someone with aspirations for something greater to the mogul who’s predestined legacy would be proudly trumpeted as the American Dream personified.
Rating: High Side of Liked It
The Apprentice is currently playing in theaters
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