A Movie Review

Reviewed by Loren Meyer

Sherman McCoy was a "Master of the Universe." He was at the top of the heap, looking down on the rest of the world. He represented the world's greatest picture of success: secured by wealth, son of a respected man, mar-ried to the perfect wife, having the perfect daughter for an offspring, and driving the most fashionable car. Nothing was out of his grasp; he could have it all; no one could touch him; he was safe behind a wall of money and power. Peter Fallow was a washout: he was boorish, a drunkard, a loser, and a procrastinator. On the brink of being fired, his career in journalism had almost come to a smash. Unbeknown to either one, Sherman would soon take a wrong turn in the Bronx that would lead to his downfall, and elevate Peter to fame.

This film is not the cleanest film around: it has occasional obscenities, scenes unfit for little children, and all the general vices of the rich involved. Nevertheless, in proving that wealth is not security enough to keep a man from the trouble he has caused, it does an excellent job, and all the while manages to keep this same man the center of our sympathy. We still feel sorry for Sherman McCoy while following the story from Peter Fallow's point of view. Indeed, the very people causing his downfall are all

villains: the Reverend Bacon, a self-righteous black preacher; District Attorney Weiss, a hardened politician looking to advance his image of non-racism by throwing a white man to the mob; Assistant Attorney Kramer, a sniveling bootlicker looking to patch up his own image while doing his master's bidding; Maria Ruskin, the calculating temptress who is at fault for most of the troubles in Sherman's life; his wife, cold and unforgiving, ("I'm leaving you, Sherman--" [plastic smile] "--after the party"); and the media in general, described as "jackals" in the credits because of their obnoxious "interviews" with Sherman.

Even Sherman's neighbors desert him, asking that he move out of his apartment so that they won't be hassled by the angry mobs gathered to demonstrate on the streets in front of his home. Everywhere he turns, people are calling for his blood, or looking for a way to profit from his misfortune. In the end, his only friends are his parents, his lawyer, and for a brief time, Peter Fallow himself, though he doesn't know it. Ironically, there is a real victim of Sherman's actions: the movie does not try to absolve him of the crime. However, as one watches the situation slowly fall apart, one has to wonder: should any man, guilty or not, be treated this way? Must every suspect be guilty until proven innocent, and still declared guilty by the media even then? As Peter discovers, Sherman turns out not to be the monster that everyone thinks he is after all, indeed only an accomplice to the actual crime itself. The truth stings Peter Fallow's conscience until he cuts Sherman a break, and gives him a chance to escape with his skin, if not, in fact, his integrity.

Although secular in nature, I find that the movie has something better to teach us than the self-righteous politically correct moralist films Hollywood usually turns out. It teaches us about how easily we misjudge others, and how easy it is in turn for others to misjudge us, and how the bad decisions we make will ultimately come back to haunt us. It teaches us that we can't escape our own perverted justice, and that the very things we use to secure ourselves can be the traps that ensnare us; Sherman is the center of attention exactly because he is rich and white; no poor black man would ordinarily receive the harsh backhanded slap in the face the system gives to Sherman McCoy.

This movie is available at your local video rental.