Profanity-ridden and raunchiness abound, Martin Scorsese delivered his newest film that is sure to become a number of people’s dirty little secret.

Based on the memoir of the real Jordan Belfort, “Wolf of Wall Street” artfully tells the tale of a drug-fueled, prostitute-frequenting stock firm that dominated the corrupt Wall Street of the 1990s. Narrated by Leonardo DiCaprio, who stars as the man behind the madness, the film, and your opinion of it, is unfortunately a double-edged sword. To say that you enjoyed the film would portray you as a debauched wanton, while not being particularly impressed would imply a reserved prude who instantly turns away from graphic nudity and drug use.

Putting aside any notions of what a socially acceptable position on this film would be, few can deny that it’s entertaining. The pacing is perfect, moving the plot along without cutting corners in terms of paying attention to detail.

Besides a set of unsettling fake teeth on Jonah Hill’s part, the acting is impeccable. DiCaprio, amongst others, commits wholeheartedly to his role, and it does not go unnoticed. As the film progresses, you can see Belfort and his colleagues succumb to the insanity that their lifestyles radiate. From rational stockbroker to the “Wolf,” you can track the change in DiCaprio’s increasingly twitchy eyes.

Not alone in the quality of his acting, the cast includes a plethora of supporting talent that all contribute to portraying an extravagant, yet believable tale of the rise and fall of an empire. Even Matthew McConaughey, who plays a small, mostly improvised role as the man who set Belfort on his way to becoming the man who nearly made $1 million a week, leaves a lasting impression.

Whether or not it is Oscar worthy, “The Wolf of Wall Street” is most certainly worth the price of admission if, for a surreal three hours (which you don’t truly feel pass), you want to know what it would be like to be whisked away into a world where cocaine falls like snow and swears are expelled like air.

Nothing could stop this motion picture from being in-your-face and proud of it. All exaggeration aside, it is speculated that this movie contains the highest numerical occurrence of the “F-bomb” since the beginning of film. It will take you on a journey where you will see the worst workplace conduct imaginable. You will witness drugs being taken from places where they should never be in the first place. You will sink in your seat, slightly embarrassed at the notion of seeing someone who you know being aware that you are not only watching a film of this caliber, but enjoying a film that somehow slipped past being slapped with a NC-17 rating.

But, at the end of three hours, you will not only be willing, but almost wishing, to stay for more. At the very least you’ll be mildly invested in checking out the uncut director’s version – though you may never want to admit it – whenever that may be released.

The question isn’t necessarily whether or not you should see this movie, but whether or not you are ready for it. Perhaps this isn’t the film that you would take your grandparents to for some quality bonding time. Maybe you should leave your underage or immature sibling at home. Regardless of your decision, please, do us all a favor and don’t ask those who have seen it if your butt will hurt after sitting for three hours because, no matter how much time has passed, the end will always come too soon.

Lauren Romag can be reached at [email protected].