Abstract

This is a biographical tale of the world’s largest ever stock fraud scam (aka ‘Ponzi scheme’), with Bernie Madoff as its central protagonist. With startling physical resemblance, Robert De Niro portrays Madoff’s various personality facets with such seamless ease, as to truly capture the essence of this longtime New York icon, and later its most despised villain.
The plot weaves back and forth between the past and after Mr Madoff was arrested for his crimes, cutting intermittently to interviews in prison with the New York Times reporter who later chronicled his story in her book (Henriquez, 2011). The past is glamorously depicted and oozing with the arrogance of a collective consciousness that inexorably flows from enormous wealth and privilege. The present is stark, dark and bitingly lonely – as sober a contrast as a screenplay can portray of a ‘have’ versus ‘have-not’ existence. This includes not only Madoff’s own imprisonment but also the devastating aftermath of his downfall on his family, including on their complex (and pre-existing) interpersonal dynamics.
In its focus on Madoff, the film aptly covers his compulsive and controlling aspects, not only when alone but also in his dealings with family and subordinates. While situational outbursts were predictable in such an obsessive personality, for the most part, Madoff is depicted as coolly ‘reptilian’ and low-key in his temperament – something which was entirely consistent with the ‘psychopath’ persona that has since been foisted upon him (as the ‘explanation’ for his white-collar criminality).
On the other hand, De Niro’s acting (rightly) brings out contradictions to the stereotype, such as Madoff’s Christmas Carol-esque ‘guilty’ dreams, his ‘honorability’ in pleading repeatedly guilty and his overprotectiveness toward his family. More clues to the depth and context of Madoff’s inner malevolence are revealed by his soft, ‘poker-faced’ refusals during a financial negotiation, his false earnestness with those in authority, and in his ability to convey a sense of depth and common-sense in that all-too-familiar ‘establishment white-male’ manner.
As for Madoff’s motives, the film never actually explores these. Hence, they remain mysterious for someone who was otherwise so meticulous and controlling of both his own and others’ fortunes. Psychodynamic interpretations would actually point to this irresistible need for omnipotent control (Meloy, 1992). Yet that seems like a rather hollow reed on which to hang such a hypothesis. For surely a mind such as Madoff’s would have been aware of his financial ‘sandcastle’ potentially crashing down around him someday?
The film’s focus on Madoff’s family does provide emotional resonance to the story, however, which goes some way to understanding the reverberations of his crimes. For example, there is Madoff’s wife, Ruth (portrayed by Michelle Pfeiffer) and her emotional dependence on him. In turn, this is the precipitant for her own identity crisis after he is arrested.
Then there is his emotionally fragile younger son, someone who always judged himself in the shadow of his father’s success, and whose self-esteem was so exquisitely contingent upon his father’s validation. It is his subsequent demise that is one of the most painful parts of this film to watch. It also exemplifies the fact that life-and-death decisions are not driven by cold, hard facts, rather by deep-seated emotions such as shame and revenge (Scheid-Gerlach, 2014). As portrayed so poignantly, the mounting impact of such emotions on Madoff’s son appeared to leave him no choice but to vanquish himself of such insurmountable anguish.
Of all the possible interpretations of this cautionary tale, it is perhaps Madoff’s own prison musings that prove to be the most thought provoking. He remarks on the inherent ‘greed’ of his victims, and the ‘system’ that permitted him to commit such injustices. Despite the ‘chutzpah’ (as the reporter exclaims) of such a self-serving comment, the truth has since emerged that government regulators did indeed repeatedly fail to hold Mr Madoff accountable, not only because of their own massive ineptitude but also due to their own, rather awe-inspired view of Madoff as a financial ‘wizard’ (Markopolos, 2010). Perhaps such a world-view was indeed instrumental in feeding the staggering extent of Madoff’s subsequent (yet unconvincing) denial in this film.
In classical fashion then, ‘what goes up … must come down’, and all without much collective introspection. By any standards, it was a spectacularly successful criminal career. Why, however, does society so readily project its worship, and subsequent blame, onto the same individual? And why did the very system that encouraged ‘risk-taking’ zealously draw such sharp lines after the transgression occurred? I would therefore argue that white-collar criminals such as Madoff are both born and made. While his habitually ruthless disregard for others’ financial fate could be viewed as ‘psychopathic’, such a view fails to examine the cauldron of the very financial environment Madoff operated within: that hunger-driven paradigm called capitalism.
Such an appraisal of Madoff also seems to artificially over-stretch the concept of psychopathy. At present, psychopathy has no actual place in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders Fifth Edition (DSM-5). Yet it is readily touted any time a heinous crime is cited. And notwithstanding speculations about Bernie Madoff’s distorted inner object relations, it seems misguided (as Madoff himself also claims in this film) to so readily equate his personality structure with those of serial killers and rapists such as Ted Bundy (Federman et al., 2009).
As long as money, fame and power exist, there will be plenty of ‘Bernie Madoffs’ eager to exploit others using whatever devious means available. Indeed, only a few days after Madoff’s sentencing, there was the Manhattan lawyer, Marc Dreier, who was convicted of defrauding investors of US$700 million, by creating phony statements, selling fake promissory notes and even resorting to impersonation himself. Therefore, the appropriate answer to Madoff’s last line in the film: ‘Do you think I’m a psychopath?’ is probably: ‘No, but you certainly belong to an ingenious criminal club’.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
