Molly’s Game: A movie every entrepreneur should watch

So I sat down to watch Molly’s Game, Aaron Sorkin’s directorial debut, and let me tell you — this movie doesn’t walk. It talks. And I don’t mean casual chit-chat. I mean rapid-fire, razor-sharp, caffeinated monologues that come at you like a machine gun wrapped in a designer dress. You could probably close your eyes, listen to the dialogue, and still get the full story. It’s like a podcast with perfect lighting and heels that cost more than my rent.

The story? Wild. It’s based on the real-life memoir of Molly Bloom — an ex-Olympic-class skier turned underground poker princess who ran the most exclusive, high-stakes games in LA and New York. We’re talking hedge fund billionaires, Hollywood stars, Russian mobsters — the kind of crowd that throws around $250,000 like spare change.

Sorkin being Sorkin, this isn’t a visual feast — it’s a verbal one. The film is almost completely narrated by Molly (played by Jessica Chastain), and everything — every cut, every flashback — feels like it’s built around her voiceover. At times, it’s less a film and more a masterclass in screenwriting. But surprisingly? It works.

Because Sorkin knows how to write words that move. And Chastain knows how to deliver them like a queen with nothing to prove.

And oh man, Jessica Chastain. She doesn’t play Molly — she is Molly. Slick, fearless, unapologetically smart. With cheekbones that could cut glass and a stare that could shut down a hedge fund, she transforms herself into the ultimate high-end brand. Molly figures out pretty quickly that if she wants to survive in a world of spoiled, powerful men tossing money around like poker chips, she needs to be the one thing they can’t buy.

And she does it. She builds her empire. She becomes the myth in the room. But behind that cool, ultra-glam façade is a woman driven by ambition, intelligence, and a deeply complicated relationship with control — and her past.

Enter Idris Elba as her lawyer, Charlie Jaffey, and let me tell you, the scenes between them? Electric. Elba plays it with this grounded, simmering intensity — he’s not dazzled by Molly’s world, but he can’t quite look away either. Their back-and-forth is some of the best stuff in the movie. It’s like watching two heavyweight intellects spar — she throws precision jabs, he parries with brute strength and surprising warmth.

And then there’s Kevin Costner, playing Molly’s father — a hard-edged psychologist who looms over Molly’s past like a ghost with a PhD. Their dynamic is cold, loaded, and painful to watch in the best way. Sorkin weaves in flashbacks to her childhood, to her skiing career, and to her downfall so seamlessly, you barely realize you’re being handed backstory until it hits you in the chest.

Now, is it perfect? No. At times the film leans too hard on the narration. You do wish Sorkin trusted the camera a little more. Visually, it’s clean, but not exactly thrilling. You won’t find a single breathtaking shot you’ll remember the next day — but you will remember that monologue, or that line Chastain delivered like a bullet wrapped in silk.

Molly’s Game is wordy, dense, and 100% Sorkin. But it’s also smart, stylish, and surprisingly emotional. It’s a story about power, gender, control, and playing the long game. It's about being the smartest person in the room, even if the room is full of millionaires. And it’s a hell of a ride.

So yeah — you could just listen to it with your eyes closed. But you’d miss Jessica Chastain setting the screen on fire, Idris Elba going toe-to-toe with her, and the sharp, diamond-cut edge of a world built on money, lies, and cards.

And trust me — you want to see that.