Written by New York magazine journalist Gabriel Sherman and directed by Iranian-Danish filmmaker Ali Abbasi, The Apprentice is the so-called “origin story” of former president Donald Trump, chronicling his early days under the mentorship of lawyer Roy Cohn and his marriage with Ivana Trump. Arriving just weeks before the 2024 presidential election, the film has had a troubled path to theaters. One of its key financiers and vocal Trump supporter Dan Synder tried to prevent its release after seeing how it portrays its subject. His company Kinematics sold its stake in the film, and after its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival in May, no distributor would pick it up for U.S. release until Briarcliff Entertainment in August. Trump’s attorneys even sent a cease-and-desist to Abbasi and Sherman over his depiction in the film.
The film is set between 1973 and 1986, bathed in a grimy New York City aesthetic. Abbasi and cinematographer Kasper Tuxen capture it on digital cameras that emulate old 16mm film for the first half of the movie and VHS-style broadcast video for the second half. These bold visual choices remove some of the glamor of Trump’s current media depiction, putting us at ground level with him while also highlighting the plastic artifice of his rise to power. The direction is at times reminiscent of how the TV show Succession was shot. The two works tread in similar subject matter (powerful American financial figures and their empires) and capture it in frenzied boardroom closeups with expansive backdrops of New York City. The camera keeps the audience incredibly close to Trump for the film’s entirety, forcing us to try to see the shreds of humanity behind his morally decaying figure.
Sebastian Stan’s lead performance is the first depiction of Trump in a narrative feature film, no doubt a daunting subject given the constant media circus surrounding him. It feels particularly monumental to finally see him portrayed on the big screen right now, amidst his third presidential campaign. Rather than try to do yet another impersonation of Trump’s voice, Stan focuses more on his mannerisms and how they’re affected by the film’s shifting power dynamics. The elaborate costuming and makeup, combined with Stan’s restrained performance, allow the brief glimpses of Trump’s genuine pathos to shine through, especially in the depiction of his troubled relationship with his immediate family. Our media consumption of Trump is dominated by either larger-than-life news appearances or over-the-top parodies in programs like Saturday Night Live, so it was refreshing to see The Apprentice treat him as an actual person.
This isn’t to say that the film exactly humanizes Trump. It holds little back in showing the brutal truths of how he treated those around him and the molding of the mindset that he would come to hold as president. The film toes a tricky line between trying to earnestly understand where Trump’s character came from and acknowledging how his brash, often ugly winner-takes-all mentality developed so rapidly. For the most part, it succeeds. Its choice of period is admirable for both trying not to capture the entire life of such a mammoth figure and staying away from dramatizing recent history, like any of his presidential campaigns or even the titular reality TV show that brought him new heights of fame.
But it does feel like by the time the film arrives at its third act, its central point has been made—we have seen and understood Trump’s transformation into who he is today. After Trump comes of age under Roy Cohn’s guidance, leaving his morality and interpersonal relationships completely demolished, the film seems to go on for another half hour, and we are left to wonder why. Past this point, there’s little new said in a film that already broadly confirms its target audience’s conceptions about Donald Trump.
Where The Apprentice truly shines is in its portrayal of the characters surrounding its protagonist. Roy Cohn was immortalized in Tony Kushner’s AIDS-centered play Angels in America, which spawned many iconic performances, including a memorable turn by Al Pacino. In spite of the shadow cast by that performance, Jeremy Strong, known for playing Kendall Roy in Succession, is stunning in his depiction of one of the more vile figures in recent American history. He captures the dead-eyed, emotionally glazed-over lawyer not only with intensity but also with a shocking amount of pitiful emotion. By the end of the film, Cohn is somehow one of its most sympathetic figures.
Additionally, Maria Bakalova gets the chance to sink her teeth into a dramatic role as Trump’s first wife, Ivana Trump, with whom he shared a tumultuous marriage that the film unapologetically airs out. While Bakalova was great in more comedic or minor parts in Borat Subsequent Moviefilm, Bodies Bodies Bodies, and the newest Guardians of the Galaxy film, here, she brings a much-needed tenderness to a film populated by detestable characters. Watching her whirlwind marriage with Trump count down its death timer is compelling and heartbreaking in equal measure.
For all of the controversy that The Apprentice has courted, its arrival before the upcoming presidential election feels nontrivial. Sherman was known for his coverage of Trump’s rise leading up to his 2016 campaign as well as Roger Ailes’ exit from Fox News. And for the most part, he treats this narrative with a similar journalistic objectivity. Despite being overlong, The Apprentice generally doesn’t feel like an overly sympathetic or demonizing portrayal of the former president. It won’t necessarily change any minds on the candidate, but for its frankness and lead performances alone, it’s worth checking out.
Ari Desai ’27 (adesai@college.harvard.edu) was late to his showing, so he watched the first 10 minutes of The Apprentice on an online camrip hours later.