Money Monster is heavy on politics, light on thrills

Wall Street malfeasance has indeed devastated many families’ finances, but Money Monster’s implausible character development, unpersuasive acting, and heavy-handed symbolism make a farce out of a misfortune.

Parcel deliveryman Kyle Budwell (Jack O’Connell) loses his inheritance in the stock market. Since he can’t occupy Wall Street, Kyle does the next best thing: He sticks up one of its smarmy talking heads. Waving a handgun, Kyle storms the set of Lee Gates’ Money Monster TV program during a live broadcast. He forces Lee (George Clooney) to put on an explosive-lined vest and producer Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts) to keep the show on the air. Patty remains in the control room but secretly communicates with Lee via his earpiece.

Kyle blames his ruin on Lee, who the month before advised his viewing audience to invest in IBIS Clear Capital. (IBIS—all caps. Get it? Almost like a certain Middle Eastern terror group?) Kyle demands answers, and director Jodie Foster seems to sympathize with his methods.

“I might be the one with the gun here,” Kyle exclaims, “but I’m not the real criminal.”

Lee and Patty realize Kyle’s financial devastation also befell thousands of other investors, who, on Lee’s bad tip, together lost $800 million. Patty can’t reach IBIS CEO Walt Camby (Dominic West), who has gone AWOL, globetrotting in his fossil fuel-guzzling private plane. Instead, she sets up a live feed with IBIS executive Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe), who attributes the stock drop to a computer algorithm glitch.

Meanwhile, the Big Apple grinds to a halt. Foster cuts in scenes of patrons at an upscale Manhattan pub and at a working-class eatery watching the hostage situation unfold on TV. Guess which group is smirking and which is staring dumbfounded at the screen.

Fearing for their lives, Lee and Patty scramble to find out what really caused IBIS’s share plunge. Patty enlists computer hackers (the magic fairies of storytelling in the internet age), who step away from their high-definition video game and slap a few keys on a second laptop to dig up dirt on Camby.

And just like that, Lee, Patty, and Diane join Kyle’s crusade. But their sudden conversion seems no less dubious than the film industry’s right to scold big banking. Perhaps it’s because Clooney and Roberts (each of whom typically earns $10 million or more per film) fail to transform their characters into convincing champions of the little guy; Patty is no Erin Brockovich.

After a sluggish first half, a few plot twists finally jolt a little life into the film (rated R for language throughout, some sexuality, and brief violence). For the most part, though, Foster doesn’t commit to drama or diatribe, and the result is The Negotiator without the nail biting or a Michael Moore flick without the flair.