In terms of joining the category of movies classified as “could never be made today,” 1983’s Trading Places is definitely up there. Not just because of its overall “political incorrectness,” but because it addresses, with unbridled candor, a topic that the “people in charge” do not want broached. Particularly in these increasingly “eat the rich” times. That topic, of course, is: it’s all about circumstances and opportunity when it comes to succeeding at life. Or, more specifically, succeeding at capitalistic life in America. Hence, the present-day need of the rich to constantly shut down or ridicule conversations about things like the “nepo baby” advantage.
But there is an additional message contained within the John Landis-directed, Timothy Harris/Herschel Weingrod-written script. And that is, quite simply: the rich are extremely fucked up and sociopathic. How could they not be, after all? They’ve never had to live a day among the hoi polloi in their life. Certainly not Randolph (Ralph Bellamy) and Mortimer (Don Ameche) Duke a.k.a. the Duke brothers. Born into privilege—worse, a “dynasty family”—the Dukes have known the trappings of extreme wealth their entire life. And it has turned them into some extremely stingy (as most rich people are), bored people.
Bored enough to make an elaborate bet centered on their top employee and the commodities director at Duke & Duke, Louis Winthorpe III (Dan Aykroyd), and a random “street hustler” named Billy Ray Valentine (Eddie Murphy). The latter happens to come into Winthorpe’s life when the haughty broker bumps into him coming out of the Duke & Duke building while carrying a briefcase. Although the accident was no one’s fault (with neither one watching where they were going), all he can think to do is automatically accuse Billy Ray of trying to mug him or some shit just because he’s a Black man.
Because the police were already hassling Billy Ray for pretending to be a blind, crippled war veteran while panhandling on the streets, they immediately get involved. And, quelle surprise, of course they believe Winthorpe when he says Billy Ray tried to assault him and steal his briefcase. Luckily for Billy Ray (and unluckily for Winthorpe), Randolph and Mortimer just so happen to be in the midst of arguing over the “heredity versus environment” question that Randolph has been reading about in Science Journal. While Mortimer maintains that “good breeding” is all a matter of heredity, simply in the blood (which is why, he maintains, Winthorpe is such a good employee), Randolph insists that he could take any man and turn him into someone respectable. That man just happens to be Billy Ray, who runs into the Duke & Duke building after being pursued by the police thanks to Winthorpe’s outburst.
Seeing him cuffed, Randolph directs his theory toward Billy Ray, telling Mortimer, “That man is the product of a poor environment. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, I can prove it.” Mortimer balks, “Of course there’s something wrong with him… He’s a Negro.” Again, modern audiences can’t take dialogue like this, even though 1) it’s satirical and 2) it’s also actually how rich old white men think. But rich old white men (and even just plain white men) don’t want anyone to know they think that way anymore—even if the information is pretty fucking patent based on long-standing behavioral patterns. As evidenced by Randolph and Mortimer treating the lives of two men they have more money than as their personal playthings and pawns. In fact, perhaps only in David Fincher’s The Game has someone gone so out of their way to manipulate a man’s reality.
But because they’re two rich men convinced of their “rightness” about everything, they proceed to engage in a discourse that leads them to bet on their respective beliefs about nature versus nurture. When Randolph insists of Billy Ray, “Given the right surroundings or encouragement, I’ll bet that that man could run our company as well as your young Winthorpe,” it leads Mortimer to reply, “Are we talking about a wager, Randolph?”
As though to highlight how villainous the Duke brothers are, an earlier scene of their butler, Ezra (Avon Long), handing them each two glasses of milk is included. And, as Get Out recently reiterated, grown-ups who drink straight-up milk are not to be trusted. More than that, they’re pretty much pure evil. But Trading Places’ statement isn’t just that rich old white men are diabolical, but that money corrupts whoever it touches. With Valentine—now going by “William”—turning into one of the very white men he would have once eagerly ripped off.
What’s more, after initially being excited and proud to share his newfound wealth and its trappings with the type of “riffraff” he used to hang out with, he suddenly gets all uppity about them being animals and “freeloaders” just destroying his nice shit after he so generously invited them back to his place for a party. It’s as though the “infection” of money has immediately turned him into the type of person no longer willing to share the wealth. And yes, the type of person who is repulsed by “ghetto” people. Even though he used to be one himself.
The extent of Billy Ray’s full-tilt transformation into a rich white man, so to speak, reaches its peak when he says of Winthorpe (who is now being called “Louie” by his sex worker [then just called a prostitute or whore] love interest, Ophelia [Jamie Lee Curtis]), “That guy belongs behind bars.” This after he infiltrates the Duke & Duke Christmas party dressed as Santa Claus. Determined to sabotage Valentine the way he thinks Valentine did to him, Winthorpe tries to plant drugs in the drawer of his office…very indiscreetly. It’s no surprise when Winthorpe and the Dukes catch him in the act.
After Winthorpe pulls a gun on Valentine, security shows up to escort him out, which is what prompts Valentine to tell the Dukes that Winthorpe should be in jail. “He’s unemployed, Valentine,” Mortimer (of all people) chimes in. “It’s no excuse, Mortimer,” the former Billy Ray coldly responds. “He’s flat broke, obviously hungry,” Randolph adds. Echoing a common Republican sentiment, Valentine retorts, “Oh, but he has money to buy drugs, right?”
So it is that the “Frankenstein” transition is complete—the Dukes have transformed him into a corporate white monster. And while the title Trading Places eventually applies not just to Louis and Billy Ray, but also Louis and Billy Ray “swapping” income brackets with the Dukes, the movie ultimately does little to dissuade viewers from the notion that money is the cure to all ills. In fact, it only reinforces the idea that it is. A very 80s-era message, to be sure. And yet, one that still keeps being drilled into the mind to this day. Emotional and environmental consequences be damned.
+ There are no comments
Add yours