‘The Apprentice’ Review: A Young Trump In Search of Money, Power And Respect

Hate him or worship him, Donald Trump is an inescapable figure in pop culture. He’s frequently parodied and mimicked, both by comedians and social media at large. His distinctive speech patterns and grandiose, often nonsensical statements, make him easy imitate and recognize, creating a caricature-like persona who can seem cartoonish at times. This reality makes a drama film about Trump a challenging prospective. Because he’s so uncomplicated to replicate onscreen, what could a more serious movie actually have to say?

As it turns out, the answer is somewhere in between “a lot” and “nothing new.” The Apprentice, written by Gabriel Sherman and directed by Ali Abbasi, reflects on the past in order to understand the current-day Republican presidential candidate. Sebastian Stan, in a believable wig and prosthetics, plays Trump in the late 1970s, ready to imprint himself on the New York City real estate scene. It’s when he meets powerful attorney Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong doing his best Jeremy Strong) that Trump begins to become the man we now see blathering about Hannibal Lector at rallies. 

The Apprentice is a biopic, of sorts, attempting to give a more complex shape to young Donald as he wheels and deals about town. He meets and seduces blonde model Ivana (Maria Bakalova) and marries her, but their relationship takes a backseat to his obsession with Cohn. He’s also obsessed with his father Fred Trump (Martin Donovan) and earning his approval, although the film is not always clear on who Donald actually wants to impress as he worms his way to the top. In the film, Cohn is responsible for Trump’s unusual manner of speech and the way he talks himself up like a modern-day monarch. We see Cohn acting as a mentor to Trump, which is based in truth, and then we see Trump rejecting Cohn as he succumbs to AIDS. 

It’s unsurprising that the real Trump has taken issue with The Apprentice, particularly as the depiction of him is not always very flattering. Stan, an impressive actor, never makes Donald unlikeable, but the film showcases the character undergoing liposuction and plastic surgery, taking drugs, and raping Ivana—something she has publicly clarified never took place. It’s common knowledge that Trump is often consumed by his appearance and reputation, and the film makes that literal with these scenes, especially the visceral depiction of liposuction. All of it makes for interesting storytelling, obviously, but occasionally the drama overshadows the point. 

Although the film centers on Trump, a divisive man and genuine threat to American democracy, Sherman and Abbasi leave space for The Apprentice to embrace larger themes. It’s about the possibility of corruption and how easily money and power can entice us. We’ll do anything–literally anything–to become rich and untouchable, as Trump has seemingly done. The film is an indictment of that sensibility, generally, although Stan’s take on Donald doesn’t become a villain. It’s a credit to the actor, who seems to want to interrogate the man rather than the persona. That’s perhaps why his performance is not a parody and, at times, the character doesn’t evoke that recognizable figure often echoed on Saturday Night Live. Here Trump is a toxic, cliched example of American masculinity, driven by the promise of status and wealth. It remains his pursuit today, albeit on a larger scale, and Abbasi suggests that the fascist threat of present-day Trump has its origins in this happenstantial meeting between him and Cohn decades ago. It’s a compelling idea. If only the film itself stood up to it.