Greed (2019)

Michael Winterbottom’s films rarely have nothing to say; even the dull trudge of 9 Songs (2004) had an interesting idea somewhere, lost amongst the piffle. Winterbottom even has a claim to directing one of the best films of this century, his utterly masterful blend of myth, legend and truth that led to the frankly astonishing Twenty Four Hour Party People (2002), a depiction of the rise and fall of Factory Records all revolving around one seemingly inimitable individual, Tony Wilson. Why that film bears mention here is that Wilson was portrayed to perfection by Steve Coogan; his take on the legendary label owner made the character his own whilst still keeping key elements of Wilson’s almost mythical existence in place. Coogan takes center stage in Greed, playing billionaire high street fashion mogul Sir Richard McCreadie (loosely based on Arcadia Group chairman Philip Green) as he prepares a ludicrously lavish and over the top 60th birthday party on the Greek island of Mykonos. Greed spends much of its running time offering flashbacks as to how we got here: McCreadie’s rise to fame, as well as an ongoing court case analysing his potential indiscretions in becoming a billionaire, namely the incredible back channels used by McCreadie in buying companies using their own money. Greed is fairly entertaining for most of its runtime, and it’s also very funny; there were a couple of lines that really made me howl which is usually a tough ask. There are plenty of enjoyable cameos; it has the feel of a British Christmas flick in that respect, we get Isla Fisher, David Mitchell, Tim Key, Asa Butterfield and Stephen Fry as himself, amongst a host of others. Despite all the positives Greed has on show it’s unfortunate then, that it’s not as good as it potentially should be. Its main issue is that for three quarters of the film it’s clearly an out and out comedy, whilst satirising the insane and grotesque wealth and glamour of its central character. There’s clearly no glorification of this type of wealth, McCreadie is a bastard of the highest order and that’s why the film works for the most part. But it changes tone dramatically in its final quarter, abruptly making the story about one of McCreadie’s personal assistants Amanda, and her family's background working in sweat shops as if to shoe in a moral backbone and condemn McCreadie’s rotten enterprises. But there’s no condemnation required; we’re fully aware of what a piece of work McCreadie is. Just like Verhoeven’s Showgirls (1995), Winterbottom’s film is a comment upon the scene he’s depicting, he doesn’t need to justify it with a forced moral ending. It's closing credits offer up some truly wretched statistics, and this would have been more than enough for us to realise that Winterbottom isn’t venerating McCreadie (if you seriously thought he was in the first place), but the closing of the film muddles its through line badly enough to really frustrate you. It’s a shame because for most of Greed I was thoroughly entertained, and even though it wasn’t sitting near Winterbottom’s finest, it is highly amusing, and Coogan is terrific. 6.7/10