As critics and those involved with the dealings of Jordan Belfort see Martin Scorsese's much-lauded latest, a number of people are raising their voices to criticize exactly how "The Wolf of Wall Street" tells history.
One line in the film that didn't ring true for Barron's Farran Smith Nehme was when Belfort exclaimed he is taking his team on a journey to take a hit at the 1%. That might make one forget the investors he conned into buying penny stocks with bad information. And according to a court ruling to the tune of $110 million, that shouldn't be believed, Nehme reports,
After pleading guilty to fraud and money laundering in 1999, Belfort was ordered to make restitution of $110.4 million—plus interest. (Porush was ordered to pay more than $200 million.) Indeed, the judgment required Belfort to pay half of his earnings into a restitution fund, which, prosecutors say, he hasn't done.
In addition to $10.4 million in assets that were seized from him personally, Belfort has coughed up only $1.2 million so far—and most of that involuntarily. For example, he forked over $702,000 in royalties from his two memoirs only after a restraining notice was served on his agent, according to prosecutors. The Wolf of Wall Street was followed by Catching the Wolf of Wall Street, in which he revels in ratting out his former friends in return for a reduction in prison time.
Having served 28 months of a 42-month sentence, Belfort now claims he is reformed. He says he has made repeated offers over the past two years to turn over the money he received for the movie rights to the government. But prosecutors say he paid only $21,000 in restitution in 2011, the same year he signed the $1.045 million movie deal and reported the receipt of $940,500.
Peter Springsteel, an architect in Mystic, Conn., said he was just starting his business when he was cold-called by a Stratton broker in the early 1990s. He wound up losing about half his life savings. “At this point in life, it’s a valuable lesson to look back on,” he said. “It definitely taught me to be much more careful.”
“My father lost practically a quarter-million dollars,” said Dr. Louis E. Dequine III, a veterinarian in Oak Creek, Colo., whose father, Louis E. Dequine Jr., an engineer, was cold-called at his home in Pensacola, Fla., by a Stratton broker. Mr. Dequine suffered a stroke under the stress of his losses.
So here's the deal. You people are dangerous. Your film is a reckless attempt at continuing to pretend that these sorts of schemes are entertaining, even as the country is reeling from yet another round of Wall Street scandals. We want to get lost in what? These phony financiers' fun sexcapades and coke binges? Come on, we know the truth. This kind of behavior brought America to its knees.
And yet you're glorifying it -- you who call yourselves liberals. You were honored for career excellence and for your cultural influence by The Kennedy Center, Marty. You drive a Honda hybrid, Leo. Did you think about the cultural message you'd be sending when you decided to make this film? You have successfully aligned yourself with an accomplished criminal, a guy who still hasn't made full restitution to his victims, exacerbating our national obsession with wealth and status and glorifying greed and psychopathic behavior. And don't even get me started on the incomprehensible way in which your film degrades women, the misogynistic, ass-backwards message you endorse to younger generations of men.
And the kicker is in McDowell's postscript:
If you want more from McDowell, she's working on her memoir -- but the entire post is also worth a read.
PS. Quick update on Dad: He is now doing business with the Albanian government and, rumor has it, married to a 30-year-old Albanian translator -- they always, always land on their feet.