Warning: This review contains spoilers!
“The Apprentice” (2024) directed by Ali Abbasi is a biographical film that depicts the early years of former President Donald Trump as he rises from being the relatively unknown heir to his father’s real estate empire to the celebrity mogul that has permeated every facet of American culture. The film is a bold undertaking that asks a very personal question: who is Donald Trump? Abbasi’s film is a lengthy attempt at dissecting the public figure by showcasing the various business dealings and personal affairs that have comprised his rise to power. An empathetic yet damning film, “The Apprentice” succeeds at capturing the era of Trump in one distinct picture.
The film opens with Donald Trump (played by Sebastian Stan) in the 1970s being introduced to infamous lawyer Roy Cohn (played by Jeremy Strong). Shot in a 4:3 aspect ratio, complete with a shaky camera effect and film-stock grain, the film is presented as a mockumentary: a personal and intimate look at a character in his most naïve moments. Faced with a federal lawsuit that alleges the Trump family of discriminating against Black tenants, Donald confronts immense pressure to clear the air in order to break ground on his own projects, including a lawsuit regarding racial discrimination in Trump properties, his ambition to develop the existing Commodore Hotel into his own hotel and the eventual unveiling of Trump Tower.
“The Apprentice” hinges on the teacher-student relationship between Donald and Roy, as Roy teaches a young Donald how to manipulate others to achieve his goals. Roy’s lessons? Always attack, never admit fault and claim victory at all opportunities.
Roy’s rules hardly fit a younger and naïve Trump, who seems uncomfortable in the clothes he’s inherited. In fact, Stan’s version of Trump is unrecognizable from the man he’s viewed as today, missing the exuberance and overconfidence on display at his rallies. In the film, Trump is portrayed as a pushover. He’s unsure of what to say on a phone call, he’s barely certain where to sit at the dinner table and nervously holds his hand in his lap.
It’s a novel experience to see a portrayal of Trump so removed from the qualities that make him distinctly himself, yet Stan carries the character with grace, showing inklings of the man he is about to become. There are notes of his ambition in his drunken ramblings about the Commodore Hotel, complete with a slight lip pout and droning intonation.
This performance contrasts with Strong’s Roy, whose personality aligns more with the common perception of the man Trump is today. He brandishes a cutthroat attitude and sharp rhetoric that is effective and seemingly sociopathic. These characters slowly adopt the qualities of the other, until Donald becomes more Roy-like in his behavior with him none the wiser.
It’s important to recognize the symbiosis of Roy and Donald in “The Apprentice.” Donald constantly defers to Roy in moments of crisis, in which he needs Roy’s impropriety — not only to secure court victories for racial discrimination but also to shape his rhetoric. During a large house party, Roy espouses the supremacy of America. Donald, looking at this grand display of power, starts to idealize the ultimate authority afforded him by a strong nationalist rhetoric.
It appears as if his desire for property is matched with his desire for authority: both manifestations of a deep desire for validation. Finding this validation in a slew of acquisitions in Atlantic City, N.J., his ego soon outgrows his need for Roy’s approval, and he is soon tossed aside by Donald. It’s insidious, and it reveals the deeper hypocrisy of the philosophy of men like Donald and Roy: in a world where there are only winners and losers, there are no friends and no loyalty.
The film also centers around Donald’s pursuit of young model Ivana Zelníčková (played by Maria Bakalova), with whom he develops an attraction comparable to that between him and business. His obsession is based on nothing more than sexual appeal and dollar bills, and his marriage proposal quickly becomes a negotiation exercise as the two argue over the terms of a signing bonus. Facing the disintegration of his future marriage and feeling compelled to vouch for his value as a husband, he can only praise himself. “Because I’m rich, I’m handsome, I have a great family … I love you!” In pursuit of the ultimate real estate, we quickly come to understand that the Trump we’ve been following isn’t an underdog, but rather a narcissist lying in wait. The entire world is a business negotiation, and he is the ultimate buyer.
The second half of the movie quickly transitions its film format from film stock to VHS; it relies upon montages of Donald’s television promotions of his development projects to showcase the height of his hubris and ego. Amidst this grandeur display of wealth is Trump’s commentary on the state of America, arguing that it gets “no respect” from its adversaries. The viewer comes to understand Trump’s discussion of the country is synonymous with that of himself: all his acquisitions exist to fill a gaping desire for validation.
There are two segments in “The Apprentice” that hint at a more grim character beyond the facade. One concerns the death of Fred Trump Jr. (played by Charlie Carrick), the black sheep of the family who faces the constant belittling of both Donald and their father. The sudden death of his brother elicits feelings of grief, and perhaps even guilt, in Donald. As a concerned Ivana tries to comfort him, he yells at her for even perceiving his tears. It’s an uncomfortable scene, watching a man barely able to admit, let alone accept, that he is grieving. It simultaneously characterizes Donald as someone who views emotional vulnerability as another form of conceding loss, while also hinting that there is repressed humility beneath his artifice.
The second film sequence is the scene in which Donald rapes Ivana. At the height of his career, and in lieu of his waning attraction to his wife, Ivana gives him a guide on how to find the g-spot — precipitating an argument in which she tears into his declining appearance. An affront to his ego, he tears into Ivana’s bathrobe and thrusts into her. Donald appears as an animal in attack in an ultimate display of depravity, inferiority and inner resentment.
The events on which this scene was based are recounted, to some level of detail, during Trump’s 1990 divorce from Ivana. However, the circumstances of the event are ultimately lost to time. However, sexual abuse cases — including the civil trial brought against Trump by journalist E. Jean Carroll — have been extensively documented in past years, showing that the internal characteristics on display are not dissimilar from the man himself.
“The Apprentice” is an imperfect portrait of Trump. It’s perhaps not as much of a psychoanalysis as I hoped. Much of Donald’s development as a character is externalized by the teacher-student relationship between him and Roy. Roy represents a Donald more favorable to the public; he is diminished in stature, strength and hubris, while Donald grows in all three throughout the film. In effect, both these characters exchange status and personality. In a poetic scene, Donald heads a decadent dinner table, not dissimilar to the one Roy invited him to, giving a toast to a now weak and fragile Roy. However, this change is not motivated by key decisions by either character. Donald’s progression into a narcissist is expected yet not gradual, and most of it happens in fast cutaways and montages; the audience is a witness to a long chain of victories as the man morally degenerates. “The Apprentice” would leave a greater statement if it showcased the decisions by which Donald slowly handed out parts of his decency. Had the movie portrayed his decline through a series of active decisions and compromises, Abbasi could have made a much more poignant point about how a character like him comes into being.
However, it remains perhaps the most empathetic look at an individual characterized as more of a caricature than an actual person. Lost in the constant “Saturday Night Live”-esque impressions of Trump is a deeper inquiry into what drives the unique brand of American narcissism that feeds his persona. Trump is portrayed as an underdog, a person driven by an innate desire to shed parts of his humanity; his desire to be more than the shadow of his own father — and the hope to escape the things that make him seem “weak” — are motivations that perhaps any viewer can relate to.
I certainly did not spend the entirety of “The Apprentice” despising Donald Trump. However, the film does not equate his humanity with goodness. You can understand a person without believing in their cause, and as we bear witness to his most hedonistic, unlikable qualities — his misogyny, sociopathy and capacity for lies — we know that this film is ultimately a critique of his character. However, whether or not this is a film that is true to the inner psychology of the former president is something else entirely. This is not an individual who often talks about what goes on inside. As a viewer, I am not wholly compelled by the argument that this is the Trump that lies underneath.
All we can do is interrogate the culture that he embodies. This may not be a true-to-form portrayal of Trump, but it portrays a clear image of the inner void of his narcissism.
The film is a movie that portrays in a light that can only be written in a contemporary setting. It’s seldom nowadays that an individual can exist in the modern media setting without being inundated with news about the former president. Every rally is clipped, televised and reposted to an audience of millions; the late 2010s have handed the keys to the media cycle to a man who constantly needs his vanity to be celebrated. Within is a manner of being that is detached from the human condition: to never admit personal fault and to always attack. I’m unsure of whether or not this quality of Trump will be remembered after he exits the collective consciousness of America. “The Apprentice” is written in a way to psychoanalyze the soft fascism of its subject — it neatly encapsulates these qualities in a succinct two-hour package.
Final Score: 7.5/10
