DVD Review: "Born Rich"

Last night, Dave and I watched the 2003 documentary "Born Rich." The filmmaker is Jamie Johnson, heir to the Johnson & Johnson family fortune. He was turning 21 and was set to inherit millions. The documentary is a series of interviews by Johnson of his friends, who, not coincidentally, were born into the uber-rich. There seemed a lot of rules [some explicit, some not so much] pertaining to being born to a wealthy family and Johnson wanted to get to the bottom of it. His father makes a couple brief appearances, but the bulk of the film is interviews with other 20-something fabulously filthy rich folks. Most of them are Americans, but two young men are European--an Italian heir to a textile fortune and a German baron who is also a French viscount. Those two seemed clearly to be in a separate class to me from the American kids.

I really enjoyed this documentary. Dave and I stayed up talking about its merits for almost as long as the film ran [just a tad over an hour]. Some of these young folks are clearly screwed up either with drugs or profligate lifestyle or lack of direction. Almost all of them spoke in a very distinctive style--flowing proper English with no discernible regional accent, but an accent nonetheless. Ivanka Trump [daughter of Donald and Ivana] had a key interview. She appeared as a blonde in several clips and as a brunette in others [Dave's comment: she's gotta' be hating that he put her in with both hair colors]. To me, however, she seemed the most relatable, poised and mature of the whole bunch. Many of the interviewees are second or later generation "idle rich". Trump, however, is daughter to someone who still works his business [and loves it]. She commented as she looked out of the New York skyline something to the effect of, "I look out on that view and dream about what buildings I will erect that will make my mark on the skyline. I guess it's in my blood."

I was left with a deep sadness for some of the young men who still hadn't found their true self amid all the wealth [and also many of whom had noticeable acne. What? Can't you guys spring for a good skin care regimen? Or a dermatologist?]. At a certain point, the fact that they have every little thing a heart could desire didn't seem to overcome a deep sadness that there was something lacking in their life. I also had a great sense of deja vu as I watched these folks converse. I attended a private college where some of my classmates had attended the fashionable prepatory and boarding schools. They all speak similarly. They all smoke. They all smoke in a similar way. It propelled me back to my college days in the early 80s when "The Official Preppy Handbook" was the newly printed Bible. I was the hard-working smalltown girl with unjaded optimism. I believed the American dream and I was going to make it a reality for me. I had lunch with fellows with numerals after their names and grilled them about their lives. Many of them partied so much they failed their courses. Many never graduated. The young men in the film were doppelgangers to the ones I knew way back when.

I would commend this film to almost anyone.