by BJW Nashe
Jordan Belfort made a fortune on Wall Street by ripping off customers with pump-and-dump penny stock scams in the 1990s. He blew vast sums of money on his shamelessly debauched frat-boy lifestyle, which was characterized by booze, drugs, cars, yachts, helicopters, hookers, and dwarf-throwing contests.
Belfort was indicted in 1998 for securities fraud and money laundering that resulted in investor losses of approximately $200 million. After cooperating with the FBI and ratting out many of his former associates, he was convicted in 2003 and served an incredibly light sentence of 22 months in federal prison. In addition to his prison sentence, Belfort was ordered to pay $110.4 million in restitution to the stock buyers he swindled.
Oddly enough, Belfort’s cell-mate for a while was Tommy Chong, of Cheech and Chong fame, who was in jail for selling bongs on the Internet. Chong convinced Belfort that he should write about his “adventures.” So Belfort went on to churn out enough material for two memoirs — The Wolf of Wall Street and Catching the Wolf of Wall Street — both published by Random House. He sold the movie rights to his story for approximately $1 million dollars. Paramount’s film version of The Wolf of Wall Street, directed by Martin Scorsese and starring Leonardo DiCaprio, was released in late 2013, and has now garnered several Oscar nominations.
In addition to his book royalties and movie deal, since his release from prison Belfort has parlayed his con artist skills into a lucrative career as a “motivational speaker” and a “specialist in sales techniques.” He claims to be a reformed criminal and drug addict who has seen the light. He now supposedly wakes up every day bright and eager to help other people avoid making the same disastrous mistakes he did as a crook indulging in unbridled greed and excess.
In other words, Belfort is still running a scam. The new scam is not as brazen as running a fraudulent financial “boiler room” where the main game is a pump-and-dump penny stock trading scheme. Now the game is all about the books, the movie deal, the PR campaign (“I am successful in recovery”), and the pricey motivational speaker gigs. All of this still reeks of a con or a hustle. Even in “recovery,” Belfort’s arrogance is still remarkable. “Look at what a pig I was; all I cared about was myself and my money and drugs and hookers. Now buy my book and I’ll tell you all about it. Go see the film so I can get rich all over again from sharing my twisted story.” Jordan Belfort clearly thinks we’re all stupid. He thinks he’s a real smart guy, and we’re all a bunch of suckers. If he can’t sell us bogus stocks anymore, then what the hell, he’ll try and sell us his lame books — which are half-assed, cliche-ridden mash-ups of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and The Bonfire of the Vanities. He’ll gladly use Scorsese’s film as a way to glorify his lifestyle and bolster his own celebrity status. Then he’ll try to convince us to pay outrageous fees to hear him speak. He’ll try to sell us his bogus motivational DVDs, which are just as worthless as the penny stocks he used peddle.
All the money Belfort has been earning from these latest scams has led the U.S. Attorney’s office to mount an investigation. In 2012, Eastern District prosecutors reportedly placed a “restraining order” on a $125,000 payment to Belfort from the movie producers. That money was diverted to the restitution fund, but not the $1 million movie fee. Every cent of that went into the Wolf’s coffers.
Jordan Belfort’s attorney, Robert Begleiter, claimed he would use the $1 million as “leverage” to craft a deal where his client might return the cash if prosecutors from the Eastern District office agree to “substantially reduce” the $110.4 million restitution ordered by Judge John Gleeson as part of Belfort’s 2003 conviction.
Begleiter says Belfort pays about $3,000 a month to the government and has returned between $11 million and $13 million for victim restitution so far. The government wants a higher monthly payment and a big chunk of the $1 million of movie money. Begleiter argues that “prosecutors don’t have a right to everything,” and that “people have a right to make a living under the law.” He asserts that federal law prohibits the government from taking more than 25% of Belfort’s earnings now that his supervisory release ended in 2009. Before that, Belfort was forced to turn over 50% of his monthly salary.
Now we are getting reports that Belfort has fled the country in order to avoid his financial obligations. According to a recent article at Design & Trend:
“The ‘Wolf of Wall Street’ has earned over $220 million worldwide, a portion of which was deposited into Belfort’s bank account. Belfort has insisted that he will give ‘100%’ of whatever he earns from the movie to the families of his victims, which he said will be ‘more than enough to pay back whoever is still out there.’
“The U.S. government said that this is a complete lie, and that Belfort high-tailed it to Australia soon after making the movie in order to avoid paying taxes.
“‘We want to set the record straight,’ Robert Nardoza, a spokesman for the U.S. attorney, told The Wall Street Journal. ‘Belfort’s making these claims, and they’re not factual. He’s in Australia and using that loophole to avoid paying.’
Belfort may have kicked his addiction to booze and drugs, which is wonderful. However, the world is full of sober assholes — and Belfort appears to be one of them, regardless of the praise bestowed upon him by Leonardo DiCaprio, who plays him in the film. DiCaprio has recently been quoted saying: “Jordan stands as a shining example of the transformative qualities of ambition and hard work. And in that regard he is a true motivator.” Translation: “I will say anything to help promote my new movie, and to justify my portrayal in the leading role.”
Piers Morgan interviewed the Wolf for his show on CNN, and also came away with a favorable impression . Morgan claimed that “Belfort is fascinating: rapid-talking, razor-smart, funny, frank, and very self-aware about his appalling past behavior.” Morgan added, “I liked Belfort. It takes courage to admit this about yourself, and to change for the better.” Translation: “Rich people are so wonderful and I love cozying up to them because it’s great for my TV career.”
In fact it does not take that much courage to admit one’s past failures. Celebrities and politicians go on TV shows all the time to tell us about their sordid exploits and seek repentance for their sins. Rehab facilities and twelve-step meetings are full of people exposing all sorts of shameful secrets. Therapists across the nation are booked solid with people who need to talk about their failings. The “addiction memoir” has now emerged as an entire new genre of bestseller. Hunter S. Thompson once captured the main thrust of this publishing trend in a single satirical line: “I was a male whore, until I found Jesus.” The people who are not simply sharing their stories, but rather are trying to sell them for a profit, tend to sugar-coat their motives by claiming that they mainly want to help others in their own struggles for redemption. But they are also counting on people enjoying vicarious thrills from all of the depravity on display. They know the whoring is often a bigger attraction than the part about Jesus. They know there is a hefty market for scandalous tales of sex and drugs. And for the right price, they are willing to deliver the goods. Courage is not that big of a factor.
Belfort’s story contains plenty of sordid tabloid content. For those of us who have not yet seen “The Wolf of Wall Street” film, or who might need a recap, Time Entertainment has provided a rundown of the sleaziest “highlights.” [http://entertainment.time.com/2013/12/26/wolf-wall-street-true-story/]
- Belfort’s first boss told him the keys to success were masturbation, cocaine, and hookers.
- According to the book, a broker named Mark Hanna (played by Matthew McConaughey in the movie) gave him this advice early on in his career.
- Belfort and his partner owned shares of a risky stock and had their brokers at Stratton Oakmont aggressively sell the stock to inflate the price. They then sold their own shares to turn a huge profit.
- Belfort and Danny Porush (called Donnie Azoff in the film and portrayed by Jonah Hill) utilized this age-old pump-and-dump scheme to get rich quick after graduating from scamming middle-class people into buying worthless penny stocks at a 50 percent commission.
- Forbes magazine exposed Belfort in a profile that described him as “a twisted version of Robin Hood, who robs from the rich and gives to himself and his merry band of brokers.” Though it was a scathing portrait, the promise of quick-and-easy $100,000 commissions brought job applicants to Stratton Oakmont in droves.
- Belfort laundered his money into Swiss banks using his in-laws. His wife’s mother and aunt both helped him smuggle the money into Switzerland.
- Danny Porush (Donnie Azoff) was in fact married to his cousin. They are now divorced.
- Belfort was a habitual abuser of Quaaludes. The scene in the film where he gets behind the wheel of his Lamborghini far too loaded to drive comes straight from his memoir. In the book, however, the car is a Mercedes.
- Belfort claims that he did in fact throw office parties that included “midget-tossing competitions.”
- Belfort’s company billed prostitutes to the corporate card — many times, with lots of prostitutes. Then they wrote off the expenses as a tax deduction.
- Belfort once screwed up and crashed a helicopter in his front yard while intoxicated.
- Belfort once screwed up and sank a yacht in Italy. Everyone involved was rescued by navy frogmen. The yacht was once owned by Coco Chanel.
- Belfort used to call his trophy wife “duchess.” Her name in real life was Nadine, not Naomi.
- Belfort received a reduced prison sentence after ratting on his friends. Turns out Belfort was even more of a jerk than he appears in the movie. In the film, Belfort tries to save his partner from incriminating himself. In reality, Belfort ratted out his partner Porush, among others, to obtain a lighter sentence than he would have received otherwise. (Belfort and Porush are no longer on speaking terms).
- Belfort claims in his book (and in the film) that he only scammed the rich, but this assertion is false. The New York Times has reported that many small business owners are still trying to recover financially from Belfort’s scheme.
Many of us have nothing against tales of shameless excess. I often find them thrilling, funny, sad, and even tragic — sometimes all at the same time. The film “Blow,” for example, directed by Ted Demme and starring Johnny Depp, succeeded as a humane exploration of addiction and greed. In the context of Wall Street, however, a shallow or celebratory treatment of such excess is bound to hit a few raw nerves. Thanks to the work of journalists such as Matt Taibbi, we are well aware of Wall Street’s role in the financial crisis of 2008, which plunged the country into an economic recession from which we are still struggling to recover. The 2008 crisis demonstrated that Jordan Belfort’s lawlessness and greed was not some aberration that occurred deep in the bowels of the financial sector. It was the prevailing methodology of those working at the very top of the largest firms. The housing bubble, accomplished through reckless trading in mortgage-backed securities, was simply a more highly sophisticated version of Belfort’s pump-and-dump shenanigans.
The extreme cynicism involved in taking a Wall Street excess story such as Belfort’s and serving it up to the public as gonzo “entertainment” in this day and age is stunning. To tell this story in an illusory showbiz vacuum with no concern for the larger social implications — in which real people have suffered tremendously as a direct result of bankers’ greed — is callous, short-sighted, and tone-deaf. For many of us, seeing DiCaprio-as-Belfort coked to the gills and cavorting with naked hookers or tossing dwarves around in high rise office suites is likely to conjure images of home foreclosure signs, tent cities, depleted 401k balance statements, and federally funded bank bailouts. This chain of associations is not all that entertaining.
The fact that some critics are getting their rocks off on the cynicism lurking behind Scorsese’s cinematic portrayal of the Wolf is also distasteful. Here is David Thomson, for example, in his laudatory review of the film in The New Republic:
“At three hours, The Wolf is open to charges of self-indulgence. The narrative line drifts and wallows and clutches at voice-over to stay afloat. Still, if you love the film, you will wish it were longer, for there is a riffing ease here, a swell air of deserved chaos, and a brazen awareness that the American system is corrupt not because bad people seek to exploit it, or because there is some evil in the hearts of men, but because American opportunism requires corruption and nerve. The inevitable conclusion is that there is no such thing as corruption. There is just the exhilaration of screwing everyone — and so, for the first time, the gang in a Scorsese film is delivered with more jubilation than dread. GoodFellas knew it was subversive, and took coy pleasure in that. This is unflawed delight, a work of exultant nihilism. At last Scorsese has abandoned the priesthood.”
The exhilaration of screwing everyone? Well, no. Most of us are not interested in “screwing everyone.” We only relish the thought of screwing over a very select few — Jordan Belfort, Martin Scorsese, and Leonardo DiCaprio, for instance, as well as the corrupt financial wizards in charge of Goldman Sachs and J.P Morgan Chase, and media enablers such as Piers Morgan and David Thomson.
I figure the American people have every right to be cynical and nihilistic — particularly when it comes to the corruption of wealthy Wall Street financiers, the empty spectacles created by rich Hollywood producers and directors, and the debased, fraudulent rhetoric that serves as cultural commentary in so much of our mainstream media. Most of these individuals are so accustomed to their privileged social status that they expect to be celebrated for their irresponsible behavior. They expect little or no consequences for any of their actions, because they are rich, they are typically white, and they are legends in their own minds. Their sense of entitlement is bewildering and shameful. Jordan Belfort served two years in prison, and now he expects to weasel his way out of his financial obligations because Scorsese made a movie about him. Scorsese and DiCaprio look forward to raking in cash and awards for their glitzy Wall Street porn flick about an amoral con man. Meanwhile we have thousands of less fortunate people suffering through lengthy prison terms simply for dealing marijuana or racking up three strikes worth of petty crime convictions.
It will be fascinating to see the merits of “The Wolf of Wall Street” debated by supporters and detractors alike as we near the Academy Awards ceremony — which is itself an ostentatious display of arrogance and corruption. By way of contributing to this debate, I am cynical and nihilistic enough to chime in using the same “exultant” style of language featured so prominently in the film itself. Rather than reveling in the “exhilaration of screwing everyone,” however, I’m content to sharpen the focus, and simply say: “Fuck you, Wolf of Wall Street.” Jordan Belfort, you are no more than a swine. And “fuck you” to Scorsese and DiCaprio, too. You might claim to be making some vague moral statement in your film, but you are mainly banking on a glorification of Wall Street greed and excess. Some of us can see right through this BS, and we aren’t buying what you are selling. It’s a joke.