THE APPRENTICE. How Donald became Trump [REVIEW]

Donald Trump needs no introduction—an eccentric billionaire, capitalist mogul from New York, celebrity, and the 45th President of the United States, currently the Republican Party candidate in the upcoming presidential election. Considering Trump’s career, where he transformed from an ambitious heir and developer into one of the most powerful people in the world, he likely dreamed many times of being the hero of a film about his career. He might have even envisioned a messianic-sounding title like “The Apprentice” (though the original English title “The Apprentice” probably wouldn’t have appealed to him as much). However, the brazen Donald likely didn’t dream of the portrayal offered by Gabriel Sherman and Ali Abbasi.

The idea for a biopic about how “Donald became Trump” originated with Gabriel Sherman, a journalist who covered Trump’s victorious presidential campaign. He was particularly interested in how Trump’s relationship with Roy Cohn, the infamous lawyer known for his close association with Senator McCarthy, shaped the future president. The project was announced in 2018, but only gained momentum in 2022, after Trump had moved out of the White House. The finished film is hitting theaters at the peak of the current presidential campaign, where Trump will face off against Kamala Harris in a bid for re-election. It’s inevitable that “The Apprentice” will be seen in a political context, but the creators distance themselves somewhat from contemporary politics, focusing more on the crafting of Trump’s media persona, portraying him as a figure lost in the pursuit of success.

The creators of “The Apprentice” frame Trump as an unambiguous anti-hero, although it’s not a portrait devoid of empathy. We meet Donald in the 1970s, when he is trying to gain recognition in the business world, but most of all, from his own father, as he takes his first steps in the cutthroat world of real estate. The ambitious protagonist gets his chance to rise thanks to meeting Roy Cohn, who offers him his services and advice, quickly leading Trump to spectacular, though not always morally upright, business successes. However, the mentor-student relationship begins to shift over time, and as Donald climbs the ladder of wealth, he gradually surpasses the Machiavellian Cohn. Around the relationship of these two figures, “The Apprentice” spins a tale about the dark side of capitalism, where individuals with killer instincts ascend to the top, gradually shedding their humanity. At this level, the film works flawlessly, largely thanks to precise direction that takes the best from biopic conventions and quasi-gangster political backdrops, enriching them with a subtle layer of symbolism.

Names like Paul Thomas Anderson and Clint Eastwood were linked to the project, but ultimately Sherman’s script landed in the hands of Ali Abbasi. From a Hollywood perspective, this might seem like a “budget” choice, but the Iranian director is one of the hottest new names in world cinema, having recently created the stunning final episodes of the first season of “The Last of Us“. Abbasi is great at working with genres and visual drama, as he demonstrated in the eccentric “Border” and the subversive political thriller “Holy Spider”. Against this background, “The Apprentice” seems more toned down, tempered by American producers, though Abbasi’s directorial flair does shine through in a few moments. “The Apprentice” shows Abbasi as a mature director, capable of operating close to mainstream while stepping outside his comfort zones, but still stylistically aware and able to leave his signature on the material. The whole film is executed with a visually interesting approach, imitating the texture of film stock appropriate to the era, with climactic scenes that are small gems of staging. Formally, “The Apprentice” is a refined work, avoiding unnecessary flashiness despite its obvious ideological-political inclinations, and striving to bring out universal, humanist dimensions from the figures of Trump and Cohn.

At the heart of the film is the acting duel between Sebastian Stan (Trump) and Jeremy Strong (Cohn). Both actors seem perfectly tailored for their roles, and the physical resemblance is striking. The team behind “The Apprentice” avoided the sin of exaggeration, resisting the temptation to blow up the mannerisms of the characters to the point of caricature, instead opting for a hyper-realistic but restrained portrayal of real people. This gives the lead actors room to shine, and both take full advantage, delivering phenomenal performances full of nuance, subtle shifts in expression, and a fine understanding of psychological depth. The craftsmanship of Stan and Strong, with intriguing support from Maria Bakalova in a secondary role, elevates several scenes to the level of potential classics.

It’s a bit of a shame that all the directorial and acting work is somewhat undermined by an overly cautious script. At times, Sherman skims over well-worn tropes of the student surpassing the master, and while he confronts Trump’s lawyers head-on (for instance, by drawing on testimonies from people around Trump that suggest he engaged in violence), he lacks the decisiveness to make bolder statements. Pointing out Trump’s instrumental patriotism and hypocrisy is a bit too mild for the exposé energy “The Apprentice” aspires to. At times, it feels like, aside from mechanically depicting Trump’s rise to the top, the film lacks a deeper idea of what it’s really trying to say. We get a montage of scenes loosely connected by a somewhat weak central theme, which feels like it was added as an afterthought. “The Apprentice” forces the viewer to extract rather vague conclusions about human nature and the system, as if afraid to openly state what this story is really about. Or maybe the idea stalled at the level of an origin story for the quasi-comic book figure Trump has become in the 21st century.

In the end, “The Apprentice” doesn’t say anything particularly new or shocking about Trump and his story. Everything Abbasi and Sherman present is more or less already known, and at best, the film enriches the audience’s understanding with a few tasty tidbits, while occasionally opting for some dramatic embellishments (though it’s debatable if they were necessary). This isn’t a film that offers new perspectives or turns Trump’s image upside down, though the mogul didn’t appreciate how he and the country he claims to love so deeply were portrayed. What we get is a meticulously crafted psychological-political spectacle, but one that leaves a sense of incompleteness, satisfied with truisms about the birth of evil, while it had an excellent opportunity for a sharper, more penetrating statement.