The Apprentice Review

The Apprentice suffers from information overload. It is not how much information there is on Donald Trump but how much members of the public can handle. How often can they deal with him in or out of office, adapted and appearing in films and television? Ali Abassi finds out the hard way. This adaptation of Trump in the 1970s and the consolidation of his name brand is skilfully played by Sebastian Stan, whose post-Marvel form has hit high after high. Stan takes on a massive role not in depth but in accepting anyone to play Trump, from his cameos in Home Alone 2 to the ample job Alec Baldwin did on Saturday Night Live, is to play a caricature. To perform as something people want to see in the context of his recent actions and activities. It hinders The Apprentice which struggles at the best of times with what becomes a simpler lampoon.  

But therein lies the interest of The Apprentice. Where this adaptation of the Trump and Roy Cohn relationship is dependent on the modern image of Trump, it is the only way to find a route through an interesting and often forgotten part of his past. Stan is not so much the focus here as he is part of the scenery, a character with a fair vocal imitation to plate up a masterful Jeremy Strong performance. It grows as the film goes on, as we see Stan and Trump become the self-made caricature who now returns to the White House. When is he not exceptional? His stock post-Succession has grown and his personalisation of the late and ambiguous Cohn is a fascinating part of The Apprentice. What Martin Donovan provides is a longstanding and now practised distrust of the government – the lack of leniency shown by previous governments on the family implied to have moulded the Trump we know today.  

Abassi is right to make this assumption, it is a narrative thread which feeds most of The Apprentice. Pity drives Cohn while ambition opens Trump to wounds delivered by those around him. He is in the pocket of lawyers who lead him to fall into the hands of other influences. Strong and Stan are exceptional. Their back and forth has a remarkable effect and those three rules, the court case and the pace at which Abbasi pulls at these narrative threads are remarkable. Where some of those rules may feel a tad on the nose, especially when written against the backdrop of outrage and injustice. The Apprentice is still an astounding piece but has nobody to turn to. In finding this delicate balance, in focusing on Cohn and his relationship with Trump, Abassi alienates those who are politically active enough to find interest in this film.  

What becomes clear is Trump is influenced by the most powerful man in the room. What that says about him now is what it says about him in the film. He looks the part, plays the right hand and has the people around him to do so. But it feels so sickening, as it does when we look at it through the scope of morality. The egalitarianism still looks fascinating. The Apprentice shows the quick spiral of a man without influence using his first smatterings of power to flirt, grift and impress. Cohn showing Trump the dark arts he now uses is the whole point of The Apprentice and while the boldness of its performances is a tremendous part of this adaptation, it must be asked what we learn. People know this of the pair of them already – adapting it is fun but feels like an obvious set of lines on a man with darker problems. What comes next? Four years to find out. Horrific. But The Apprentice gets that.