Three hours long and stuffed to the gills, “The Wolf of Wall Street” is one of the funniest yet most depressing movies of Martin Scorsese’s long career—a celebration and evisceration of male savagery, financial division. It’s like “Goodfellas,” only (slightly) more legal, which is very much the point.
Leonardo DiCaprio gives a wily, loose-limbed comic performance as Jordan Belfort, go-go hustler of the 1990s, and Jonah Hill is touchingly smarmy as his second-in-command. (The female roles? Don’t ask. This is one those movies about creepy macho excess that periodically turns into creepy macho excess.) Where “Wolf” does strike deep is in its portrait of the infantile need—the pure lizard-brain atavism—lurking under the urge to get rich. Full story for BostonGlobe.com subscribers.