Molly Bloom has a fascinating and thrilling story to tell. It’s full of crime, sex, money, fame and the dark corners of the glittery world of the elite that so many people (myself included) are deeply fascinated with.
Here’s the thing though, if Molly’s Game is anything to go by, Molly Bloom herself is not a terribly good story teller. The book is breezy and somewhat easy to read, but it’s also clunky in places, jumps around and doesn’t really delve into any of the fabulous people Molly meets during her years running a high end private poker game.
The film based on the book (written and directed by Aaron Sorkin) does a slightly better job with this, though it’s not quite as dishy, since Sorkin followed Molly’s mandate to change most of the names of those involved.
But this review isn’t of Sorkin’s film. (Which I enjoyed quite a bit.) It’s of Bloom’s book, which is only OK. It’s a quick read, which was nice, and gave my brain that reality reset I’ve been looking for in the past few months.
And those names Sorkin changed? Rick Saloman, Ben Affleck, A-Rod, Leonardo DiCaprio and of course Tobey Maguire.
Man, if even half of what Bloom says about him is true, fuck that guy. What an asshole. This may even ruin Spider-Man 2. (It doesn’t. That movie is incredible.)
While fun, and an interesting curiosity, Molly’s Game is nothing particularly special. It mostly feels like you ran into someone you sort of knew at a party, they gave you a rundown of a crazy year they had, and then you just sort of drifted away again.
Up next is Heretics Of Dune! Are y’all ready to head back into that crazy ass world? I am soooo ready.