The Apprentice: Or Frankenstein; The Modern Prometheus?

By Jonathan Ball

His colleagues and compatriots lie dead in the river – their secret plan to destroy the Japanese bridge in ruins. As Alec Guinness’ Colonel Nicholson alerts his Japanese captors to the impending detonation of his glorious steel creation in Bridge on the River Kwai, he sinks to his knees, crestfallen and aghast at his own vanity and pride.

‘What have I done?’

The ending is etched into cinema history; a cautionary and Frankensteinian tale of hubris, arrogance, and self-destruction. Or as Jeremy Strong’s meticulously crafted and imitable Roy Cohn would reflect:

‘What have I done?’

We meet young Donald (Sebastian Stan) in early 70s New York in a members club impressing upon an uninterested date his importance and the exclusivity of where they are. He is wet and insecure. Like a small dog browbeaten and cowed. This New York – a battlefield scarred by gangs, violence, and political strife – serves as the allegorical backdrop for a young Trump’s initiation into the vices of power and deceit. Director Ali Abassi intersects our initial introduction with Nixon’s infamous, “I am not a crook” speech as young Donnie is invited across the room by the lacertian and well-connected right-wing lawyer, Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong), beckoning the beginning of a profound – and troubling – mentorship set to change the course of history.

Trump himself described The Apprentice as a ‘politically disgusting hatchet job’, [1] and although the film flirts with making Trump a figure of monster or ridicule, it effectively crafts him as weak. Not just weak but, insecure, malleable, and impressionable. Particularly so to a presence like Cohn. Young Trump sees Cohn as a second father. One who recognises Donald’s ambition for what it is: an opportunity.

Where Trump’s father Fred Sr is ambivalent, avoidant, and terse. Cohn is ruthless, vigorous, and effective. Donald is immediately infatuated. And when Cohn begins to mould little Donnie into a killer (‘there’s two types of people in this world: losers and killers’) through his ‘three rules of winning’ – always attack, deny everything, never admit defeat – a Reaganomics-era romance blossoms, with Cohn as the father figure (and love interest?) Trump never truly had.

Cohn untangles the Trump Organisation’s messy web of property ownership and racial discrimination through a slew of chicanery and force, eventually helping construct the great narcissus itself: Trump Tower. However, the film struggles with an identity crisis at times, particularly in its portrayal of the Trump family dynamics. Relationships with Trump’s father and brother (a fascinating and fundamental bearing on Trump in itself) feel half-mast and underdeveloped, lacking the depth and bite necessary to fully explore young Donald’s moral corruptibility as he navigates the corridors of hubris and power.

There is also a question mark about tone. The film sometimes struggles to define Trump’s character, oscillating between victim, monster, fool, or something else entirely. A particularly uncomfortable scene involving Ivana perhaps even raises questions about the filmmakers’ intentions, as they seem torn between comic humiliation and serious critique during an uncomfortable and unexpected rape scene. In the end, the filmmakers do nothing but undermine the gravity of a pivotal moment depicting Trump’s transformation and his treatment of his wife.

Perhaps though whatever identity and tonal crises exist, are absolved largely by the performances of Jeremy Strong and Sebastian Stan. Stan looks and sounds the part. He has all the nuance required to capture Trump’s insecure younger self and deftly navigates the choppy waters of impersonation and satire as “Donald” becomes “Trump”. Further praise is required for Maria Bakalova as Ivana Trump. Whenever Trump is not quite fully formed, Ivana is certain who she is. Bakalova expertly blurs the complex lines between trophy wife and aspirational businesswoman and all the love-letting required when a person becomes involved with Donald J. Trump.

Ultimately The Apprentice examines self-fulfilling prophecies. The consequences of treating people terribly until terrible things turn unto themselves, swallowing everything and everyone. None more so for Jeremy Strong’s imitable and sharp-edged Roy Cohn. Strong demonstrates why he is one of the most in-demand and capable actors, the industry has to offer, stealing every frame as he embodies contradiction, shade, and shame. Cohn was a closeted homosexual who spent his career dehumanising and targeting minorities and others alongside the infamous Senator Joe McCarthy. The Apprentice should be seen for Strong’s performance alone.

Cohn carefully manufactures Trump to his every tendency and whim until he is usurped by the younger man as Trump becomes wealthier, more powerful, and increasingly self-obsessed. As Trump outgrows Cohn, he eventually succumbs to AIDS, and upon learning of Cohn’s illness, an unchecked Trump coldly lauds his “success” over Cohn. There is no redemption for Cohn. His tale is cautionary and sad and lonely. He ends with little choice but to kiss the ring. Frankenstein has created his monster. Nicholson has sabotaged his bridge.

‘What have I done?’

Find out November 5th.

Sources:

[1] Trump, Donald J. (@realdonaldtrump), “A FAKE and CLASSLESS Movie written about me, called, The Apprentice”, Twitter, October 14, 2024. https://truthsocial.com/@realDonaldTrump/113303964855794908