There is a very telling scene quite close to the end of this tale of renowned swindler Jordan Belfort (DiCaprio), where he is introduced and described as "the world's greatest salesman". The man introducing DiCaprio's version of this character is the real-life Jordan Belfort, and the movie is based on his own autobiography, so one thing is very clear: this isn't the story of Jordan Belfort, this is Jordan Belfort's story of Jordan Belfort, and just how much of that biased, self-aggrandising telling will dictate how much you will enjoy the movie.
Scorsese has dealt with crime epics before, but this is his most epic yet, both in running time (10 minutes longer than his previous longest film, The Aviator, which ran at 170 minutes) and swear words (a record-breaking 506 uses of the F-bomb, or nearly three f**k's every minute). He covers the riches-to-even-more-riches tale of Belfort from his early days under the wing of cocksure cokehead Mark Hanna (McConaughey), before setting up his own stockbrokerage with right-hand man Donnie Azoff (Hill), new wife Naomi Lapaglia (Robbie) and enough shady dealings to block out the sun entirely.
Belfort was addicted to everything a man seemingly can be addicted to - pain medication, cocaine, alcohol, cocaine, sex, cocaine, power, cocaine - but his main vice was money, which of course brought the attention of the FBI, headed by Agent Denham (Chandler), and watching Belfort haphazardly tap-dance around his own self-destruct button is fantastic. DiCaprio, channelling both Jack Nicholson and Robert DeNiro in their prime, is having a blast, the ring-leader of the type of party lifestyle that his own Gatsby would've found too extravagant. He's also incredibly funny, as too often we've been stuck with a dour DiCaprio, and here he's a comedic revelation, especially during a particularly long Quaalude comedown that is already ear-marked for the funniest scene of the year.
Unfortunately, Scorsese can't quite match up to his leading man. The story itself is so frantic and energetic, that perhaps Scorsese didn't feel the need to direct or edit likewise, as his trademark visual pizazz is somewhat lacking, and that bum-numbing run-time is certainly made to feel apparent during the fizzled out third act.
Despite that, this is still a deliciously demented, deliriously entertaining version of events. Just make sure you take it all with a pinch of salt. And knowing Belfort, make sure it is salt!