It seems that you simply cannot spend a moment on the internet without seeing someone complain about the ongoing financial crisis in which the majority of the global population is struggling to survive, while the rich simply get richer. The phrase “eat the rich” has never been more resonant than it is today, and while not every one of us may necessarily subscribe to this proto-Marxist rhetoric in which the wealthy elites are the targets of societal disdain and sometimes even outright violence, its impossible to be entirely ignorant to the reality of the situation, which is something that we find becoming an increasingly more common point of discussion. One of the more fascinating contributors to this conversation is Jesse Armstrong, who started his career as a satirist in his native United Kingdom, before venturing across the pond and becoming the mastermind behind Succession, which transitioned from mildly amusing dark comedy to a television phenomenon, offering a glimpse into the trials and tribulations of the world’s wealthiest and most influential individuals, and how their lives were in nothing but complete disarray, the seemingly dignified, luxurious image presented to the world being nothing but a carefully-curated facade. He makes it clear that his fascination with the subject has not abated, as he once again tackles these themes in the form of Mountainhead, his feature directorial debut in which he tells the story of a quartet of the world’s richest men, gathering for a weekend of fun and debauchery in the mountaintop retreat owned by the runt of the litter. Self-professed “captains of technology”, the group’s reunion initially starts with the usual pleasantries, before descending into complete chaos once their egos begin to shine through, revealing that their public personas betray a deep sense of insecurity, mistrust and anxiety, proving that no amount of wealth can bring true happiness or peace, even to those who spend their lives masquerading their fortune. A fascinating but still somewhat imperfect satire that finds Armstrong in his element once again, Mountainhead is quite an achievement, and a film that provides some deep and unsettling reflections about reality and contemporary society.

As was the case with much of his earlier work, Armstrong is focused on taking a seemingly simple concept and interweaving it with a number of different themes, some of which are more resonant than others. The core of Mountainhead is essentially a gathering of four very rich men who are hoping to escape the hustle and bustle of their daily lives, enjoying the freedom of being isolated from the outside world, surrounded by nothing but likeminded friends and the rolling, snowcapped hills of Utah, separate from the world whose decline they conveniently overlook for the sake of sparing themselves the discomfort in knowing that they are responsible for a large portion of the chaos that exists just out of view. From this basic foundation, the director builds a complex film that features several additional components, handwoven into the fabric of the story to not only give it more depth (since a weekend of immorality by four rich men is not strong enough to sustain an entire film), but also provide a sense of cohesion to the narrative, which is much deeper than we would imagine. Wealth is a fascinating subject, but its something that Armstrong has covered in depth before, and while it does factor heavily into the narrative, acting as a source of some of the initial tensions between the group (whose playful tradition of ranking each other based on wealth goes from a lighthearted competition to something much more sinister), its far from the most important theme. Mountainhead is a film about masculinity more than anything else – these four men (each one of which has at least a couple of real-world counterparts, and it can be entertaining to decode the inspirations for each one of them) exist in competition with one another – the belief in keeping your friends close but your enemies closer is very much embedded in this story, as we see the characters engage in a lengthy battle of the wits, asserting their dominance over one another in the form of playful banter, when in reality they are simply acting out in their own personal interests, not being afraid to bring the downfall of their closest confidantes if it means that they attain more wealth, or even achieve immortality, both literally and metaphorically.

Another feature of Armstrong’s work as a writer and director has been the development of fantastic, well-crafted characters that feel simultaneously like realistic depictions of certain archetypes, and outright caricatures. As we mentioned, each one of the four protagonists in Mountainhead have a few real-world inspirations, but Armstrong is very careful to not cross the line into making them complete parodies of certain billionaires, knowing that the viewer is intelligent and perceptive enough to understand the subtle cues, and focusing instead of creating a quartet of well-defined, interesting characters that are capable of holding our attention. His dedication to creating such complex characters allows him to enlist four supremely talented and wildly diverse actors to bring his vision to life, giving this film one of the strongest ensembles of the year. Cory Michael Smith is the self-centered social media tycoon who realises the role he played in spreading misinformation, Ramy Youssef the artificial intelligence pioneer who believes that he is a truly ethical businessman with the best interests of the global population at heart, Jason Schwartzmann the eccentric wellness guru struggling with feelings of inferiority and insignificance based on his smaller fortune, and Steve Carell as the mentor who is grappling with his own mortality, realising that even the richest and most elite of the world cannot evade death entirely. It’s a tremendous group, and Armstrong certainly plays to each one of their strengths, while also pushing them beyond their comfort zone – considering three of the four leads are usually associated with comedy (although have done a considerable amount of dramatic work), and the fourth is an up-and-coming young actor who has already amassed quite a solid body of work, there are some surprising nuances to their performances, which both tap into their inherent talents, while also forcing them to stretch their usual personas, bringing the film together tremendously well.

However, as much as I do find myself feeling mostly very positive on Mountainhead, this is also not a film that is particularly immune to criticism. It is well-known that it was barely six months ago when the network courted Armstrong to write and direct a film, with the entire process being completed in less than half a year. This kind of rapidity is both impressive and slightly concerning, because while it does indicate that a perfectly decent, well-crafted film can come together in a fraction of the time than we usually expect, it also means that the final product does feel slightly rushed. There are very few elements that we can consider outright shortcomings, but it struggles to reach the absolute peak of its potential. Primarily, the film is very much restrictive – the entire story transpires in one location, giving it the atmosphere of being a play. This is not inherently a problem, since many similar works have been produced along the same lines, but it does mean that there were limitations in how far the story could go. To its credit, it does often feel like a spiritual successor to films like Sleuth and The Shining, where a remote, sprawling property grows into a character of its own, but it stops just short of achieving brilliance, which can sometimes be slightly troubling considering the potential it had. It also feels quite rushed in the writing – there are moments where the dialogue feels like nothing more than technological and financial gobbledygook, and while this could be intentional (there’s something very charming about a satire that essentially peddles primarily in gibberish), it often forces us to pull away from the central tension, and instead attempt to decode the meaning of something that was essentially nothing more than overly complicated technical jargon, making the audience feel somewhat insubstantial, lacking the knowledge needed to understand a film that could have been more accessible through simply putting more work into the narrative process rather than just hinging on its core ideas.

While it may not answer the question around whether there is any possibility of an ethical billionaire (or if it does, it is buried under layers of cynicism and intentional despair), Mountainhead nonetheless makes some remarkable observations on the nature of wealth and how it can be both liberating and restricting, the boundary between them being beyond narrow and almost impossible to pinpoint from even the closest proximity. It’s quite challenging at times, and keeping track of a lot of the references can be a burden, but it all ultimately proves to have relatively positive results, since the film that surrounds these ideas is quite strong, having a sense of purpose that does take a while to understand, but which ultimately proves to be mostly very effective, even if it is slightly unorthodox in a few ways. Overall, Mountainhead is a solid film – its not the career peak for anyone involved, and it occasionally does veer towards the predictable (and it does often struggle to pick a specific tone – it oscillates between slapstick and bleak dark humour, never quite settling on one over the other), but it ultimately has decent results, and proves to be a fascinating glimpse into the lives of the rich and famous, who we already know are not nearly as immune to criticism as they want us to think, but still offers something wonderfully compelling and intriguing. It’s not the resounding call to arms that we may anticipate, but it’s still well-crafted, decently written and proves that the simplest ideas are often the most interesting and effective, especially when dealing with some of the more intimidating concepts that govern this film.