Through the filter of comedy and with cunning and cynicism, recent films like Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), Adam McKay’s The Big Short (2015), and even the South Korean Academy Award winner Parasite (2019) by Bong Joon-ho have paved a new road: to confront capitalism and class struggle while criticizing the rich elites at the top of the food chain. Following this current tradition, the sophisticated satirical intentions behind a movie like Greed don’t represent an isolated case, though it may confirm an unstoppable trend.

Directed by British filmmaker Michael Winterbottom, this comedy’s appealing accessibility doesn’t overshadow the social concerns that propel it, or allow it to rise beyond expectations. It tells the farcical tale of Sir Richard McCreadie (Steven Coogan), a charismatic and merciless fashion industry mogul known as the “king of the high street,” a figure inspired by British billionaire businessman Sir Philip Green.

Self-nicknamed Greedy McGreedy, McCreadie has no moral restrictions or shame. After dropping out of school, he understood the purpose of his life: to make a lot of money investing as little as possible through unequal agreements. He always wins a bargain. As his ex-wife, Samantha (Isla Fisher), states later, Richard has no interest in fashion at all, he only wants to close good deals. The fashion brands that make up his empire have been just means for him to become a self-made billionaire, avoid taxes, and get the benefits from the underpaid labor of Asian factories that exploit their employees. (Myanmar, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka are among the countries mentioned.)

The story’s main focus is the preparations around his 60th birthday celebration on the Greek island of Mykonos. It will be a Roman Empire–themed bacchanal inspired by the movie Gladiator; yes, as snobbish and illiterate as it sounds. Look-a-likes of singers will attend the celebration (including a George Michael double, though the artist is dead) and an arena has been built as part of the activities.

On the same beach that will host the festivities, Syrian refugees camp all around, and instantly you guess a clash of race and class will happen anytime soon—well, not exactly. This situation is treated more like a punch line easily solved. The Syrians barely affect the narrative, underlining a fundamental flaw of the entire film: the unexplored possibilities are usually more interesting than the results, including the taping of a reality TV show, The Young, the Rich & the Beautiful, starring McCreadie’s daughter, Lily (Sophie Cookson).

Through flashbacks and mockumentary-style interviews, McCreadie’s official biographer, Nick (David Mitchell), guides the audience through the milestones in his subject’s life. For this reason, Greed possesses a frenetic rhythm that moves forward and backward. It’s almost like a parody of the traditional Great Man biopic. But this narrative device distracts more than informs and never reveals an emotional truth about McCreadie. This can be defended as intentional, considering the avaricious protagonist, yet it diverts the attention from the most intriguing part of the film: the party and the anticipation of what will go wrong.

Meanwhile, Nick and Amanda (Dinita Gohil), one of the workers organizing the party, function as human counterpoints that channel Witterbottom’s critique of the capitalist system and its executioners. From satire to social critic, there is friction between tones and intentions that seems mishandled and uneven. Most of the jokes are repetitive, and the satiric approach is flat and predictable, while the social denouncement is unsubtle and on the nose. Accompanied by Abba’s “Money Money Money,” end credit statistics expose facts that cast a shadow on retail fashion. It’s moving sequence, but it comes off as a bit like a PowerPoint presentation, underlining what has already been conveyed.

Greed is an entertaining comedy with respectable points of criticism about the socioeconomic problems of our time, but more often than not it falls under the burden of its great aspirations; it’s is not as bold as its setup initially suggests: a ruthless billionaire man celebrating his birthday alongside his peers, all in togas, with a gladiator arena and a lion included. Instead, the party is tame. However, Winterbottom offers one shocking resolution that makes the film worth watching. The lion does not disappoint is all that can be said. The rest is extremely conventional and a bit patronizing.