There’s already been an abundance of films, television series and books that have detailed the greedy, unethical foundations of the pharmaceutical industry in America. And whilst Netflix’s Pain Hustlers may not be the most investigative and favours entertainment over education, it’s a further insight into the peddling of the opioid crisis and acts as something of a base for the federal government finally holding companies accountable for their contributions to overdose-related fatalities.
An adaptation of Evan Hughes‘ New York Times Magazine article “The Pain Hustlers”, and his subsequent book “The Hard Sell”, David Yates‘ occasionally comedic crime drama is mostly fast paced and always fast talking, and sets up its initial frame work as a documentary production interviewing those involved in a racketeering conspiracy. An unseen director asks questions to a variety of main players (all these segments filmed in black-and-white), with these snippets inserted sporadically across Pain Hustlers‘ 122 minutes, serving as a device to contextualise action within the main narrative.
And with the conversation with each subject weaving across how the start-up company (the fictional Zanna) became a pharmaceutical beast in a matter of months, despite being on the verge of bankruptcy, it’s the lone name of Liza Drake that continually ties each story together. As played by Emily Blunt (who, in all honesty, deserves award season praise reaped upon her for her energetic turn here over her likely-to-be-nominated appearance in Oppenheimer), Liza is ferocious and driven, but keeps a certain level of compassion within her actions – something that will ultimately be her downfall.
When we first meet Liza she’s on the cusp of raging out to her ex-husband about their daughter, Phoebe (Chloe Coleman), before strutting into the gentleman’s club she “dances” at. It’s not entirely clear how long she’s work at the establishment, but it’s evident it’s not the right fit for Liza. She’s stunning, without question, but a brief sequence of her attempting to dance on the pole as she admires the performer opposite her contort her body with the grace she doesn’t hold herself speaks to her feeling like a misfit in such an environment. Lucky for her that her tongue is silver, and we see Liza’s uncanny ability to read people and manoeuvre any situation in her favour when she lays eyes on Pete Brenner (Chris Evans, fully embodying the morally dubious salesman aesthetic), a Zanna employee who, impressed with (and attracted to) Liza’s gumption, offers her a job as a sales rep; that the company is on the verge of bankruptcy seemingly a detail Pete believes is best left undiscussed.
The first half of Pain Hustlers is arguably its strongest, and there’s a Wolf of Wall Street-lite meets The Big Short-type energy that Yates infuses, with dramatic freeze frames and voiceovers layering the story with an excitement that helps mask how corrupt and evil all that’s taking place truly is. And Liza, as framed by everyone relaying their stories, was the epitome of evil, bribing doctors to prescribe Zanna’s drug-of-choice.
Of course, Liza, as masterful as she is at her job – it’s her initiative and easy persuasion that kickstarts the company’s resurgence in profit – is still taking orders from Pete and Zanna’s big wig CEO Jack Neel (Andy Garcia), and when the latter starts to indulge in his greed a little strongly and starts pressuring Liza and Pete to prescribe their drug for minor pain management over the serious cancer relief it’s designed for, she starts to feel differently. Liza’s second guessing of the company’s morals, which extends to her hiring her mother (Catherine O’Hara) and navigating the liability she ultimately becomes, benefits from Blunt’s performance and her ease at making us like her in spite of her actions, but such a shift in heart feels a bit too abrupt, even though Liza’s heart and good intentions has always been at her foundation.
Whilst Yates and screenwriter Wells Tower are aware of the vastness of the epidemic at the film’s core – and they allow brief moments of reflection for patients detailing their doctors’ malpractice – Pain Hustlers is a more engulfing feature when it allows Liza’s web of desire to weave, which, in turn, allows Blunt to soar above material that doesn’t always entirely land on solid ground. Hopefully one title that won’t get lost in the Netflix shuffle, Pain Hustlers is a glossier, more competently made feature than what the streaming service is often afforded, and with Blunt and Evans likely to garner scrolling interest, you’ll be well rewarded with a story of undeniable interest should you look past their aesthetic sheen.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
Pain Hustlers is streaming on Netflix from October 27th, 2023.
