Greed (2019)

Greed is special because it weaponizes laughter against a target that usually slips away in glossy branding and PR: the machinery of obscene wealth, and the human cost stitched into it. Michael Winterbottom stages the story like a sun-drenched circus on Mykonos—gaudy, vulgar, and faintly sickening—while Steve Coogan delivers a wonderfully sharp performance that’s equal parts charm offensive and moral car crash you can’t stop watching. The film’s non-linear, tabloid-bright vibe keeps it entertaining even as the satire sinks its teeth in, using comedy not to soften the message but to make it land harder. It won’t be for everyone—its tone is deliberately acidic and its targets are broad—but if you like smart, angry, darkly funny social comedy, this one earns your time.

Greed is trying to be a glossy, angry satire of billionaire vanity and fashion-industry exploitation, using a gaudy birthday blowout as a stage for a broader moral takedown. The problem is it often swings a sledgehammer where a scalpel would work better, with jokes and outrage competing for airtime and the non-linear storytelling feeling more busy than revealing. Steve Coogan is reliably sharp and there are flashes of wit in the party chaos, but if you’re hoping for nuanced character work or a drama that lands emotionally, this can feel like a lecture dressed up as farce. If you like broad, message-forward satire and don’t mind uneven tone, you’ll get something out of it; if you want subtlety and cohesion, you may leave irritated rather than entertained.