Given Donald Trump's notorious litigious streak, it came as little surprise when the former president threatened legal action against a film delving into his formative years as a real estate tycoon, decrying "blatantly false assertions from these pseudo filmmakers," as his campaign spokesperson, Steven Cheung, vociferously noted in May. Despite this customary belligerence, I contend that the Republican presidential aspirant indeed harbors valid reasons to dissuade audiences from witnessing "The Apprentice," a cinematic venture premiering this week.
The film's most jarring and visceral sequence depicts a fictionalized Trump violating his then-wife, Ivana, a narrative the real-life Trump and Ivana both vehemently deny (more on this later). This moment is destined to monopolize discourse. However, beyond this shocking revelation, the film's remaining portrayal is a timely and poignant dissection of what fuels Trump's psyche and his casual disregard for factuality.
Penned by journalist Gabriel Sherman and helmed by Ali Abbasi, who also directed "Border" and contributed to HBO's "The Last of Us," "The Apprentice" pivots primarily around Trump's pivotal bond with Roy Cohn, the red-baiting attorney whose tutelage lends the film's title a dual significance, mirroring the TV show that crafted and polished Trump's public persona.
Introducing the nascent Trump character (portrayed by Sebastian Stan), the film charts his quest to emancipate from his overbearing father's shadow, a journey significantly aided by Cohn, brought to life with relish by Jeremy Strong of "Succession." Cohn spies Trump amidst a bustling, opulent club and promptly takes him under his wing, initially assisting him with a lawsuit involving accusations of discriminatory rental practices in his dilapidated apartments, later facilitating his ambitious New York developments.
"You're the client, but you work for me," Cohn commands, his authority palpable. "That means you do what I say, when I say it." As depicted, Cohn—a virtual mob lawyer at the time—stops at nothing to secure victories, employing bullying and blackmail tactics against city officials. Yet, "The Apprentice" adeptly captures how Trump absorbed Cohn's teachings, internalizing his ruthless playbook for public combat: "1. Attack, attack, attack. 2. Admit nothing, deny everything. 3. Claim victory, regardless of the outcome, and never concede defeat."
While the film inevitably takes dramatic liberties in adapting a fact-based narrative, many of its broad strokes resonate with earlier works like the 2019 documentary "Where's My Roy Cohn?" The title, echoing Trump's White House exclamations, captures his frustration at not finding lawyers as ruthless as Cohn. As history often repeats itself (a lesson any "Star Wars" fan can attest to), the apprentice ultimately transcends to become the master. Cohn's waning health, due to AIDS, transforms him into just another pawn Trump discards in his relentless pursuit of power.
When Trump initially encounters Cohn, his swagger is nascent but burgeoning. Cohn serves as his mentor, introducing him to influential figures like Andy Warhol, Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, political strategist Roger Stone, and publishing tycoon Rupert Murdoch ("Rupert will be instrumental for you," Cohn advises).
Apart from Cohn, the film delves into Trump's tumultuous relationship with his first wife, Ivana, whom he aggressively pursues, marries, and eventually grows weary of. Their fractured union culminates in the brutal encounter Ivana recounted in a deposition related to their divorce, a story she initially sought to clarify but later dismissed as baseless ("without merit"), as detailed by The New Yorker. Ivana is played by Maria Bakalova, who captured hearts in the "Borat" sequel and her memorable hotel-room encounter with Trump's lawyer, Rudy Giuliani.
Trump's campaign has dismissed "The Apprentice" as pure fiction and malicious defamation. Yet, any astute observer of Trump's actions can discern the truth in its broad strokes, particularly Cohn's admonishments to always claim victory and his disdain for the concept of absolute truth. Trump's conduct in public life, particularly over the past decade, underscores how deeply he has internalized these lessons. When truth becomes expendable, lying evolves from a mere tactic into a protective shield.
In this sense, "The Apprentice" becomes a timeless tale of origin, where the mentor, to his own detriment, realizes the full extent of his protégé's success.
