“The Apprentice” Movie

www.theapprenticemovie.com

The first half is fantastic.

This is not the film I thought it would be. I figured it would be a left wing takedown, a la Michael Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11,” a movie trumpeted by the left, released just before the 2004 election, but despite the flick’s condemnation, Bush ended up winning the presidency anyway.

And based on the kerfuffle, studios’ refusal to release it, I thought that “The Apprentice” would be an evisceration of Trump.

But this is not what “The Apprentice” is. If anything, I’d call it the modern day “Scarface,” not the original, but the Al Pacino remake, which has become a cult favorite amongst drug dealers and gang members everywhere.

You see so much in this film is accurate. America is about winning. The laws are just suggestive guardrails for the rich and powerful. And sure, most people will never play in this league, but they want to, which is why poor people consistently vote against increased taxes for the rich, because they plan to become rich themselves, however delusional that might be.

So what we’ve got here is Donald Trump’s arc with Roy Cohn. Who is played by Jeremy Strong, whom you’ll recognize from “Succession,” who until the head-nodding tic gets tired in the second half, delivers an Academy Award winning performance. He’s that good. As for the tic, the head-bobbing, there’s very little footage of Cohn online, I saw one interview, he did move his head, not in the same way, but there must be something there for Strong to have made it such a part of his performance.

Sebastian Stan as Trump is more mellow and more intelligent than the man himself. He’s not a cartoon, he’s not over the top. He thinks, he learns lessons, and then enters the age of hubris, after he has success building in Manhattan.

This film posits that Trump learned everything he knows from Roy Cohn. Is this true? Here Trump is a mellow wannabe, just a rich man’s son, until he meets Cohn, who not only teaches Donald lessons, but greases the skids of his construction success.

Bottom line, the world is fixed. Didn’t Trump tell us this himself when he first ran? Saying he could lead because he knew this?

Well, Trump couldn’t lead. Not effectively. But he seems to know the score. Politicians are no match for business people. Because the business people have all the MONEY! And as Cyndi Lauper sang, money changes everything.

Maria Bakalova aces the role of Ivana Trump. You’ll say to yourself you’ve seen her before, and then when you look her up online you’ll discover she was in the 2020 Borat film. Which opened on Amazon and was the talk of the town for…a couple of weeks.

“The Apprentice” should have opened on Netflix. And it would have gone to number one and everybody would have seen it. How many people are going to go to the theatre to see it when it opens on October 11th?

I don’t know anybody who goes to the theatre anymore. Boomers seem to have lost the habit. And youngsters would rather watch YouTube or TikTok. Is “The Apprentice” enough of an event to bring non-superhero movie fans out to the multiplex? We will see.

And all the publicity will be timed to the theatrical release when…

If you saw “The Apprentice,” at least for the first half, you would not be able to turn it off.

I mean I know so much of this. But when it’s dramatized, when you can see it, it has greater impact.

Friday night I got around to finally watching “The Fabelmans.” This is why the Oscars and insiders are so screwed up. They actually thought this would be commercially successful? Spielberg knows how to shoot a movie, but he doesn’t know how to write a script. Ultimately a film is about the script, and “The Apprentice” has a good one.

It’s a cross between a Mafia movie and a Wall Street movie. Then again, if you knew what went on behind the scenes, you’d believe our business titans are equivalent to the made men of yore.

The tax abatements.

You think it’s us versus them. Maybe in politics, then again aren’t James Carville and Mary Matalin married?

I learned the truth when Napster hit and Shawn Fanning was a pariah, but as soon as the legal precedent was established in court, the recording industry embraced him.

Know that it’s a club, if you pick sides and stay there, don’t talk to your competitors, the joke is on you.

And that lesson is in this movie.

There are a ton of lessons in this movie. Maybe well known to those who are familiar with Roy Cohn, but how many people out there are? Hell, the guy died in 1986.

Sure, Trump makes a joke of Cohn’s playbook, but that does not mean it does not work. Never admit defeat. Sue if things don’t go your way. There are going to be a ton of people sitting at home watching this movie taking notes. This is wisdom.

As for the second half… It’s good, but the effect wears off. The first half you feel like the curtain is being pulled back and you’re seeing truth. Even the deceased Fred Trump Jr. comes alive. As for the senior Fred, Trump’s father, he was a noted a*shole who took it out on his son, but it’s not overdone here, there’s just the right number of put-downs.

And you see the wooing of Ivana. Eventually she became a cartoon, but as a young woman from Eastern Europe you see her trying to make her way.

This is what native Americans don’t understand about Eastern Europe, Russia, third world countries. Life is hard there. Which means you have to learn how to survive. And when these people immigrate to the U.S., if you think they’re just like you and me, you’re wrong. One of the best parts is when the marriage is depicted as transactional, how much cash is Trump going to give her? (After she calls the wedding off after being presented with Cohn’s prenup.)

Trump might be inane and insane in real life, but not in this movie. Yes, after success he’s feeling his oats, thinks he’s never wrong, but he’s not bombastic.

As for the Trumpers who were going to hate the studios that refused to put out this movie…

This is the political landscape we live in. The right wing goes on offense and the left wing cowers, afraid of pissing people off. I’m telling you, most Trumpers will LOVE this film. As for Donald’s flaws…doesn’t everybody have imperfections, doesn’t everybody make mistakes? But Trump is a fighter, and he’s fighting for them. And this film delineates a code to live by. Take no prisoners.

So if you were sitting at home just waiting for the release of “The Apprentice” to put a stake in Trump’s heart, kill his campaign, you’re sorely mistaken. That’s not what this film is. It’s an origin story. It shows how Donald Trump came to be the person he is. Before he was put on network TV by Mark Burnett and became completely delusional.

This is a good movie. For the first half my mind didn’t wander at all, and that’s a rare event with today’s flicks. We have options, why should we watch this stuff?

But from the very beginning you’ll want to watch “The Apprentice.” Turn down the lights when you watch it at home. It’s dark, dirty and gritty just like New York City.

This is not hagiography, nor is it excoriation.

“The Apprentice” is more real than a documentary. Michael Moore’s flicks don’t hold a candle to this. They’re different things. Moore’s are constructed to make you sneer at the offenders.

I won’t say you’ll finish “The Apprentice” and embrace Trump, but you’ll know where he came from, his influences, what made him. You can read this stuff all day long in the press, but when you see it on the screen…

Once again, Sebastian Stan’s performance is not over the top. At the beginning he knows what he doesn’t know. He’s not a bull in a china shop. He’s a man with dreams, who wants to be somebody. Isn’t that the root of every successful entertainer in America, never mind successful businessman?

Deny it all you want, but this is the way it is.

And it’s in this film.

Definitely thumbs up.

Watch it no matter which side of the political fence you’re on.

Because first and foremost it’s a MOVIE, not a polemic, and you’ll ENJOY IT!

More Rock Deaths-SiriusXM This Week

Tune in Saturday September 28th to Faction Talk, channel 103, at 4 PM East, 1 PM West.

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Nick Gravenites

He died.

Actually, a few days back, but I just found out last night.

I was on my final go-round in the “New York Times” app, and I went into the obituaries, and there he was.

They’re dropping like flies. Then again, Gravenites was 85, and was living in assisted living, suffering from dementia and diabetes. I mean 85’s a pretty good run, fifteen years longer than my dad, if I make it to 85 I’ll be lucky, I’ll be thrilled, then again if I do I won’t be ready to go.

Actually, I was stunned that Nick was still alive. Not that I expected him to be dead, but when you’re an icon…where do you go? Sure, some of them have a website, participate on social media, but the rest of them? I don’t know.

And doing endless research last night I couldn’t really find a full description of where Gravenites has been. Yes, he worked with John Cippolina, but Cippolina died in 1989, thirty five years ago.

Meanwhile, the obit focuses on the Electric Flag. I never bought that album, but it was on Columbia, and the band featured Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Miles and that one song, I know it by heart, “Groovin’ Is Easy.” And as a matter of fact, Barry Goldberg was in the band too, along with Harvey Brooks, who composed “Harvey’s Tune,” the final cut on “Super Session,” a moody burner that the youngsters are not familiar with, and this had me reflecting on when Al Kooper would pass. He’s not in the best of health.

And the Electric Flag never had a hit.

Nor did the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. An iconic group which peaked in the late sixties which made its reputation live and on the records themselves, airplay was minuscule. Butterfield was big before most burgs even had underground FM radio.

But if you were in the know…

This is not the 27 club. Even though Butterfield himself expired at age 44 as a result of a drug overdose. To employ the Joe Walsh aphorism, Butterfield was too old to die young, it made the news, but there was no hoopla.

But Nick Gravenites… How to explain this to a younger generation? That a musician sans hits had respect, was well-known within the community, made a difference, didn’t just make music as background, but as life itself.

I was pondering all this and I thought it must be the blues. I’ve been waiting for a blues revival. That’s what Active Rock is missing, the blues underpinning, which was bedrock for all the great English acts of the late sixties and seventies.

But the old blues musicians… Many of them were still around when Gravenites came up. Muddy Waters. Howlin’ Wolf. I met Willie Dixon, talked to him for a while at a Bug Music party one Friday afternoon, but I was too young for the others. After going to Sun Studios it made me wish that I was aware of how great Howlin’ Wolf was while he was still alive.

And it turns out Nick Gravenites did not write “Groovin’ Is Easy,” but he did compose the now standard “Born in Chicago,” which opened Butterfield’s debut. And he wrote for Janis Joplin. And Nick was the producer of Brewer & Shipley’s “Tarkio,” which contained “One Toke Over the Line,” but even better, the closer, the almost seven minute long “Fifty States of Freedom.” If you’d asked me earlier yesterday who’d produced “Tarkio” I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Nick Gravenites was just part of the firmament, and now he’s gone.

So after reading the obit, I went in search of Nick’s last fifty years, and that’s when I found notice of a benefit concert last year in Sebastopol. Maria Muldaur was the biggest name, but the whole affair was put together by Barry Melton. From Country Joe & the Fish. You know, the one with the big blond hairdo, all those curls expanding.

I know that Melton ultimately went to law school and became a public defender. But going deeper, I found out he’d been gigging with Banana. BANANA? The Youngbloods have been lost to the sands of time. Robert Plant covered “Darkness, Darkness,” and “Get Together” is a staple, but at one time the band was so big they got their own vanity label with Warner Bros, Raccoon. And the funny thing is Banana had a similar hairstyle to Melton, what back then was called a “Jewfro.” Where in the hell has Banana been all these years? How has he survived?

That’s what I wanted to know, how did Nick Gravenites survive? Were his songwriting royalties enough to carry him through, or had he had a straight job.

And now I’m going deeper into Gravenites’s history, man I love going down the internet rabbit hole, and it says it all started at the University of Chicago. NICK GRAVENITES WENT TO THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO? That’s one of the most difficult schools out there.

And it turns out Elvin Bishop went there too. Was a physics major. You know, the guy who looks like Jethro from “The Beverly Hillbillies.” Bishop may have grown up in Oklahoma, but he’s no backward bumpkin.

And along with appearing on the “The Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper,” which contained a version of “Dear Mr. Fantasy” that got more airplay back then than the Traffic original and hasn’t been heard since, Bishop formed his own band, it was his name, but the singer was Mickey Thomas, who ultimately ended up in the Starship.

And Bishop’s biggest hit, and I wonder what he’s surviving on, was “Fooled Around and Fell In Love.” Then again, Bishop wrote that one, a classic, maybe that’s enough.

But it turns out Bryan Ferry did a cover of “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” on his “Love Letters” EP back in 2022. I KNOW Bryan Ferry, but I had no idea this EP came out. I immediately clicked to hear it.

And now our heroes of yore have retreated into truly being the bluesmen of today. They record quickly, on small budgets, and almost no one hears their material.

I’d say what a long strange trip it’s been, but I don’t want to mix the Dead into this, even though they too were from San Francisco.

These were educated people. Go to the University of Chicago today and you’re not going to throw it all away to become a musician, following the dead art of the blues. Then again, you could live on almost nothing back then, unlike today.

It is very different.

I read in today’s “Wall Street Journal” “Mansion” section about a $177 million spec house in Bel Air. Who could afford that? Well, if you’re a billionaire you’ve got to park the money somewhere.

But when Nick Gravenites was plying the boards the heroes of the age were musicians. Not Top Forty hitmakers, but those devoted to the craft. Who luxuriated in the sound, who wanted to make a dent in the universe. Hell, even Steve Jobs got his inspiration from music.

It’s not the same today. Don’t let anybody tell you it is, they’re just lying or weren’t around.

And I’ll posit the young people missed it. The golden era.

And Nick Gravenites was part of it.

I won’t think about him every day.

But I’ll never forget him.

Not that he’d care. That’s not what he was in it for. He wanted to make that sound. And when we heard it, it was all-encompassing, it was all we could think about, it was what we lived for.

Note

I am not going to write about your book.

Writing is a profession. What makes people who’ve run out of jobs and self-publish their story believe that people want to read what they have to say?

I don’t want to write this. I’m sick and tired of the attitude I’m displaying here. This is what happens when you interact with the public. And it’s hard to let it roll off your back all the time. As a matter of fact, Ellen DeGeneres has a new Netflix special all about this. And yes, she’s got a chip on her shoulder, yes she doth protest too much, but she’s a really good comedian, she’s got an identity, a viewpoint, never mind the rote skills of timing and delivery. Everybody thinks they can stand on stage and entertain people, but only a very few are good enough to break through. Ditto with writing. We can all put words into a computer, but do you have the skill to create a riveting story that people want to read?

Forget the details. Everybody’s got amazing events in their lives, everybody’s got a tale to tell. Just because you met a famous musician that doesn’t mean people want to pay to read your story.

But these people are relentless. One guy e-mails me every time I mention a book I read. EVERY TIME! Thinking that this perseverance is going to pay dividends. Like finally I’m going to break down and give him what he wants. NO! I’ve been ignoring him. God forbid I tell him the truth.

Do you know how long it takes to read a book? Hours and hours. And you want me to dedicate all that time to your primitive effort? For what? So I can not write about it and you’ll still be pissed at me?

Of course there are exceptions, like Kathy Valentine’s “All I Ever Wanted.” And there are some books written by professionals that are worth the time, but most biographies (and even rock autobiographies!) are not worth reading. I mean if you’re that dedicated a fan, go for it, but I’m not.

Then there are people who write entire books without a negative thing to say. They’re eighty and worried about pissing off…exactly who? That’s sad, you’re that old and you still can’t tell the truth.

And then there are the misspellings. No one ever proofreads these books. In addition to being unable to write exciting material, none of these people can spell. Ever hear of spellcheck? It’s built right into your word processor, right there in Word. Can you use it?

And if you mention famous names and misspell them…you look like an idiot, what do you think the reader thinks? I mean how hard is it to spell Jackson “Browne” instead of “Brown?” And then there are the books where there are multiple variations on the spelling of one name. Once again, spellcheck would point this out.

As for being unable to spell… That’s what most writers can do, spell. But they can’t do your job, hang with business people and negotiate. Why are you so sure you can do their job? I don’t think I can make hit records. But I could fire up GarageBand right now and make a track and e-mail you each and every day to listen to it. And believe me, I get those too. The barrier to entry is astoundingly low, as to be almost nonexistent. But what makes you think people want to pay attention, spend the time?

And then there’s the production. Ever think of making the type a bit bigger so people can read it? Ever think of choosing a readable font? This is what professionals focus on, amateurs don’t even think of this.

And pricing. Do you really think someone wants to pay thirty dollars for this dreck?

And there’s one book where the guy who wrote it can’t even get his own timeline right. I know more than he does. I mean it’s not hard if you’re paying attention. These are facts. You can look them up online. When an album came out, when the Vietnam War ended. It’s simple.

Yet you keep dunning me to read your book.

I tell people all the time, you can send it but just don’t bug me to read it and write about it. But people do anyway. Hey, you wrote about that famous writer’s book, why not mine?

And then there are those who write fiction. I can tell you about respected writers that can’t get narrative right. I read this Claire Messud book that had great descriptions and analogies but the plot was substandard, and she’s one of the most revered writers out there! But you think you can just lay it down and ring the bell? Come on!

I had this friend Johanan Vigoda. A legendary lawyer, he represented Stevie Wonder, even though he looked like a homeless person.

We were at lunch one time, and I was trolling… I hate to admit it, but I was. I didn’t come right out and say it, but if he would only do this for me, a minor effort, a connection.

And what Vigoda said to me, and I knew him, he was a friend, was…

“I AM NOT A TRAIN! I do not pick up people in one place and drop them off in another.”

And then there was Ken Kragen, who used to teach a class about management at UCLA Extension. He said it was all about connections. To make them. BUT HE WAS NOT THEIR CONNECTION!

I didn’t take that class, but a friend did and he told me this. And how did I meet that friend? At UCLA EXTENSION! We were both at the advent of our careers. What makes you think you’re immediately entitled to get in at the top?

So I love to read. And I’m sitting there with a stack of self-published books, the biographies of some executive, or someone who was involved in a scene, and I can spend five or six hours reading their tome… Or I can pick up the new Rachel Kushner book. What do you think I’m going to do?

Want to get ahead in this world? Do something great.

Even Malcolm Gladwell has come out and said 10,000 hours of practice doesn’t mean you’ll be world class. The science says 10,000 hours of HARD PRACTICE!

Hell, you might write a good book if you’ve been writing since you’ve been a teen. Have seven unpublished novels in your drawer.

But no, you’ve come to a career standstill, don’t know what to do with yourself, have run out of options and say, I know what I’ll do, WRITE A BOOK!

Don’t even bother. Unless it’s your number one passion. Do something else with the limited time you have left on this planet.

Do I read the books of people I do podcasts with?

Yes.

But the odds of me doing a podcast based on a self-published book… That hasn’t happened yet. And I’m inundated with major publisher books that I don’t have time to read, and some I do and still don’t write about them.

But you’re entitled.

I get it, you were a radio promotion guy. You bugged radio stations over and over, until they delivered what you wanted.

But that was traditional business. An exchange of favors.

I DON’T PLAY THAT GAME! Even though people still think I do.

I’ve got no stock in Spotify, nor Live Nation. I’ve never taken a penny to write about a record or a book or a company. NEVER!

But I should do it for you.

Furthermore, what have you done for me?

I’ve built this platform. Do you know what I had to do to do it?

Oh, you don’t really care.

But I guarantee you I’ve lived on a level you can’t even comprehend. Writing a bad check for the rent with less than twenty dollars to my name, with no idea where the next check was coming from.

I survived. But if I want to tell you the truth, I just about fell off the edge. It was nearly terminal.

But now that I’ve built whatever I have, whoever I am, I’m beholden to you.

And then there are the people who keep criticizing what I write and how I write. They’re not paying a penny and they can unsubscribe instantly, it’s a link on the bottom of every missive.

But they’re entitled.

I do my best to avoid their input. It goes with the territory.

But I don’t like the person I become when I’m reacting to all this b.s. that my readers aren’t even aware of.

Now I’m making you aware of it.

All you newbie ex-exec writers out there…

Do me a favor. Ask the friend of a friend to read your book. Someone you don’t know at all, who’s got no investment in your work, and have them respond. I bet you most people won’t even finish your book. And when questioned by their mutual friend they’ll say negative stuff.

But you’re delusional.

That’s not one of the tools in the rock star playbook. Sure, self-belief, but not delusion. Some people just don’t have it. And chances are they’re you. Bob Dylan sings “Each of us has his own special gift.” You do. Find out what it is. I doubt it’s writing.

And bugging people ad infinitum for attention is not a gift, even a baby can do that.

So if you’re thinking of sending me a book… I might say yes, but the odds of me reading it are almost nil. I may check it out.

But if you’re a major publisher it’s different. But they’re smart enough to know that if you send someone a book that doesn’t mean they’ll read it or write about it. Imagine calling everybody on the record company mailing list of yore, every week, to ask whether they’ve listened to your record and whether they’re going to take action, play it or write about it. These lists had thousands of people on them, how many people took action? They say one percent is a good return.

The problem here is I’m going to scare off the reasonable people, the talented ones.

And while I’m at it, for the umpteenth time… You’re reading me, you know what I’m into, can you think about that and recommend what might interest me? I just wrote about three fiction books, but you’re telling me I must read a rock autobiography, or a business book? Sure, there’s a small possibility I’ll like that, but very small. You’ll have to make a very strong case. And you send me records outside my area of interest that I’m never ever going to like, even though others will. Good for them, but not me.

This is how it works today. Everybody can play, but not everybody can win.

Let me push the button. Most of the people complaining loudly about Spotify and Live Nation payments don’t make music that anybody other than their family wants to hear, if them. But somehow they’re entitled to a living making music?

You took the time to write a book, good for you.

But don’t expect me to read it.

I’ve got better things to do.

I only have one life.

And so do you.

I’m choosing all the time. There’s more I want to consume than I can. But I should spend hours on your crappy book instead?

FUHGEDDABOUDIT!