We live in a day where there is no shortage of big screen biopics. That’s because deep down most of us are drawn to human stories of all kinds. Combine that with our love for the art of cinema and it’s no surprise that we get so many. But biopics are susceptible to a number of traps. An overreliance on formula, representing fiction as facts, or as in the case of “The Apprentice”, letting personal crusades mar what could have been a piercing and insightful study.

In a nutshell, “The Apprentice” is a movie that works so hard to demonize its subject that it forgets to make him human. Director Ali Abbasi’s politically driven misfire seeks to paint New York businessman and former President Donald J. Trump as unflattering as possible. His more rabid detractors will consider that a strength and embrace the movie despite its glaring issues. The overly sensitive Trump acolytes will hate it and immediately cry foul over the timing of its release. As for the more grounded viewer, it’s not hard to see through the film’s flimsy facade.

In reality, Donald Trump has provided plenty of real-life material worth dissecting in his business, personal, and political lives. But Abbasi adds too many fictional twists to serve his film’s message. He paints a wildly one-sided portrait that barely registers a human pulse. It’s a shame considering how ripe the subject matter is for exploration. But instead, “The Apprentice” comes across as misguided, lazy, and self-important.

Trump is played by a firmly committed Sebastian Stan who often looks as if he’s trapped in a prolonged Saturday Night Live sketch. He’s adorned in an assortment of glaringly bad wigs that he’s always primping. And outside of the occasional intonation, his voice rarely sounds like the real thing. Getting past these distractions can be a chore.

Written with more purpose than principle by Gabriel Sherman, “The Apprentice” hones in on Trump’s rise as a New York City real estate developer. The story kicks off in 1973 with Trump meeting attorney Roy Cohn (brilliantly played with cold precision by Jeremy Strong). Cohn is revealed to be a New York power-player who uses a variety of legal and illegal tactics to bend the system to his will. His list of clients includes politicians, media moguls, and mob bosses. With Trump facing prosecution for violating the Fair Housing Act, Cohn agrees to take his case.

From there Cohn takes the young businessman under his wing, serving as the mentor and father figure Trump never had with his dad, Fred (Martin Donovan). But Cohn also gives Trump a crash-course in using the system, basing it on three ruthless principles that Trump later adopts as his own. Their relationship is the centerpiece for much of the film, moving from mutually beneficial to something genuinely personal.

But as Cohn’s villainy is well established in the film’s first half, Abassi and Sherman want their audience to know that Donald Trump is much worse. This really comes through in the final act where the filmmakers seem to lose any sense of restraint. They pack in every negative claim whether substantiated or not. From more troubling accusations such as Trump raping his wife Ivana (played by an underused Maria Bakalova) to more petty jabs such as alleged liposuction, scalp reduction surgery, and erectile dysfunction. These things again expose motives that consistently derail the movie.

As mentioned, Donald Trump is not beyond critique and the film is at its most compelling when examining his place within the corrupt New York City system of the 70s and 80s. But the movie can’t stay on track. It can’t sustain any drama nor build any suspense. Most of the supporting characters are mere sketches and even Stan’s Trump veers into caricature, especially during the film’s near farcical final half-hour.

“The Apprentice” is a movie that seems at odds with itself from the get-go. It wants to be serious-minded and candid, but it also has a very clear position it wants to advance at any cost. That leaves us wondering what’s true and what isn’t. The filmmakers aren’t much help with Abassi telling The Wrap that his movie “is very much fact-based and fact-checked” while Sherman tells The Hollywood Reporter “This is a work of art. It’s fiction.” Whatever you call it, “The Apprentice” fumbles what could have been a captivating and pertinent biopic. I’m sure it will please the one political camp and infuriate the other. For everyone else, it’s nowhere near as provocative or illuminating as its creators believe it to be.

VERDICT – 1.5 STARS

With “Apartment 7A”, director Natalie Erika James makes an ambitious attempt at delivering a prequel to Roman Polanski’s highly regarded “Rosemary’s Baby”. This psychological horror thriller takes an interesting approach to the 1968 film and Ira Levin’s original 1967 novel. It works best as a compelling appendix that fills in holes rather than expand the lore. And it does more to pay homage to Polanski’s classic than plow new ground.

Those familiar with “Rosemary’s Baby” may have a good idea of what to expect after hearing one name – Terry Gionoffrio. She’s a young woman who has a small but memorable role in Polanski’s earlier film and is the centerpiece of James’ prequel. Set in 1965, Terry (capably played by Julia Garner), is an aspiring dancer who came to New York City from Nebraska with big dreams of one day seeing her name in lights. Her career seems to be taking off, but she has a gruesome setback after breaking her ankle during a live performance.

Terry is forced to endure a lengthy and painful recovery leading her to start popping pain meds. She attends several casting calls but loses out due to her noticeably weak ankle. But good fortune (or misfortune) comes her way after Terry meets the kindly Castevets, Minnie (Dianne Wiest) and Roman (Kevin McNally). They’re a wealthy elderly couple who live in The Bramford, a Renaissance Revival apartment building in Manhattan.

The Castevets explain to Terry that they have no children of their own. They like to help struggling young people get on their feet, so they offer to let her stay rent-free in their neighboring apartment. Things immediately start turning around for Terry. One of her new neighbors, Mrs. Gardenia (Tina Gray) gives her an herbal home remedy that fully heals her ankle. And after a blurry evening with another tenant, Alan Marchand (Jim Sturgess), she’s hired to be on the chorus line of a musical he’s producing.

But Terry soon learns that her big breaks are too good to be true. The Castevets go from sweet to weird to all-out intrusive. Strange sores begin to appear on her body. And more questions arise about her night with Alan. Of course with this being a direct prequel, the first film has already set the table and served the full meal. That ends up stripping “Apartment 7A” of its mystery and suspense. We know where things are going and have a good idea of how they get there.

Yet James makes several good choices and adds her own unique touches that keeps us interested. Thematically she maintains a fascinating balance in depicting a young woman’s obsession with fame. Terry may have put herself in a bad position, but she’s unquestionably a victim. Garner artfully manages these tricky tensions, showing us ambition that leads to regret and later vulnerability that gives way to resilience.

Among James’ creative flourishes are two dramatically different but equally potent dance scenes. One is an elaborately staged musical number and the other a more intimate and calculated dance sequence. Both come from very different places and have significantly different purposes. But they’re part of what energizes this unavoidably predictable yet well-made, well-paced, and well-acted “Rosemary’s Baby” companion piece. “Apartment 7A” is now streaming on Paramount+.

VERDICT – 3.5 STARS