Dumb Money ★☆☆☆☆
The Stock Market Crash… of Interest
There’s something poetic about a movie like Dumb Money, which tries to tackle the explosive GameStop stock saga of 2021, somehow managing to make one of the wildest financial upheavals in recent history feel as thrilling as waiting for your DMV number to be called. Directed by Craig Gillespie, this is a film that stumbles under the weight of its own premise, presenting what should be an exhilarating underdog story with all the energy of a corporate PowerPoint presentation.
Dumb Money tells the true tale of Keith Gill (played by Paul Dano), a quirky YouTuber whose love for GameStop stock leads to a financial revolt against Wall Street giants. He inspires an eclectic band of retail investors—played by an A-list cast, including America Ferrera, Pete Davidson, and Seth Rogen—who, from their homes and in their pajamas, shake up hedge funds worth billions. Sounds riveting, right? You’d think so. Instead, it plays out like a tired lecture from your cousin who just discovered day trading.
At its core, Dumb Money wants to explore populist rage against the capitalist machine, the “David vs. Goliath” battle between everyday folks and the financial elite. But instead of sharpening its pitchforks, the film settles for blunt shovels, digging into broad, shallow character studies that never really gel. Yes, there are a few fleeting moments where the cast, especially Dano, shines, but it’s all so scattershot that by the end, you’re more likely to feel pity for the poor actors trying to elevate this script than triumph for the characters they play.
Visually, Gillespie does his best to imitate the frantic, hyper-stylized direction of movies like The Big Short, but it all feels too familiar, as if we’ve been on this ride before—only this time, no one bothered to check if the wheels were still on the cart. The frantic editing and cutaways to net worth counters are more distracting than clever, desperately trying to make up for a lack of depth or insight into what really drove the GameStop frenzy.
The pacing doesn’t help either. The film drags through endless scenes of various characters staring at screens, listening to stock prices rise and fall. Riveting. It’s as though someone thought that making us watch people watch things happen was an avant-garde storytelling technique. Spoiler: it’s not.
Perhaps the most disappointing part is the film’s refusal to engage with the real stakes of the story. The pandemic backdrop, which played such a huge role in this real-life event, is barely explored. There’s a nagging sense that Dumb Money is afraid to get too angry or too serious. It’s almost like it wants to be The Big Short but with training wheels, carefully avoiding any real critique of the financial system in favor of light jabs and shrugging indifference.
If you were hoping for a deep dive into the mechanics of the stock market, or perhaps an emotional connection with the people who risked their savings for this collective online rebellion, you’re out of luck. This film is content to skim the surface like a stone skipping over water, only to eventually sink without making much of a splash.
In short, Dumb Money might be the perfect film for those who love watching other people get rich off of Reddit posts, but for anyone looking for a sharp, incisive satire or even a halfway engaging drama—this is a stock you should have sold at the trailer.
