Documentaries about wealth usually follow a predictable script. You see the glitz, the private jets, or the tragic downfall of a billionaire who flew too close to the sun. But Me and My Money, the 2002 film directed by and starring the late John Cassavetes' daughter, Alexandra Cassavetes, didn't do that. It was different. Raw. Kinda uncomfortable, honestly.
It wasn't a "how-to" guide for getting rich. It wasn't even a cautionary tale in the traditional sense. It was more of a psychological autopsy of how humans—from the super-rich to the struggling—wrap their entire identities around a piece of paper or a digital balance.
If you're looking for it today, you might find it buried in the archives of early 2000s independent cinema. But its relevance has actually surged. Why? Because we are living in the most "money-obsessed" era in human history, yet we rarely talk about the actual emotional weight of it the way this movie did.
What Me and My Money Was Actually Trying to Say
The film basically functions as a series of vignettes. Alexandra Cassavetes isn't just a narrator; she's a participant. She travels across the globe—from the high-pressure streets of New York to the more relaxed but equally money-conscious corners of Europe—asking a simple, terrifying question: What does money do to your soul?
She interviews an eclectic mix of people. You have the high-flying fashion designer, the struggling artist, and the person who seems to have "made it" but looks absolutely miserable.
The brilliance of the film is that it doesn't judge. It observes.
✨ Don't miss: Do You Believe in Love: The Song That Almost Ended Huey Lewis and the News
When people search for information on this movie now, they’re often looking for that specific scene where the reality of the "American Dream" hits the wall. There's a particular honesty in how the subjects talk about their bank accounts. It’s the kind of talk people usually save for their therapists, or maybe their bartenders after three drinks.
The Alexandra Cassavetes Perspective
Growing up in a "film royalty" family like the Cassavetes/Rowlands clan gives you a weird vantage point on wealth. You aren't exactly an outsider, but you see the machinery. Alexandra uses this. She doesn't come off as a preachy filmmaker looking down on the poor or mocking the rich. She’s genuinely curious.
She's exploring her own relationship with the "green stuff."
In 2002, the world was still reeling from the dot-com bubble burst. People were cynical. This film captured that specific brand of early-millennium anxiety. It wasn't about the "grindset" culture we see on TikTok today. It was about the existential dread of realizing that even if you win the game, the prize might be empty.
Why This Film Is Hard to Find (And Why That Matters)
You can't just hop on Netflix and stream this right now. It’s one of those "lost" gems of the early 2000s indie circuit. It premiered at festivals like Sundance, but it didn't get the massive, worldwide distribution that a blockbuster documentary might get today.
This scarcity actually adds to its cult status.
When you do find a copy—maybe a dusty DVD or a random upload on an obscure site—it feels like a time capsule. The fashion is dated. The cell phones are bricks. But the conversations? They feel like they were recorded yesterday.
The film highlights a fundamental human truth: Money is the ultimate Rorschach test. One person sees security. Another sees a cage. A third sees a way to buy back the love they didn't get as a kid. Me and My Money forces you to look into that inkblot and admit what you see. It’s not always pretty.
Real-World Lessons from the Documentary
While the film is an artistic exploration, it lands on some very concrete truths that financial psychologists are only now starting to prove with data.
- The Hedonic Treadmill is Real: The subjects in the film who achieved their financial goals weren't necessarily happier. They just had "better" problems.
- Comparison is the Thief of Joy: The film shows that people don't care how much they have in a vacuum; they care how much they have relative to their neighbor.
- The Taboo Persistence: Even twenty-plus years later, we are more comfortable talking about our sex lives than our credit card debt. The movie leans into that awkwardness.
The Cultural Impact and Legacy
It’s interesting to look at how many "money documentaries" followed in its wake. Films like The Queen of Versailles or Inside Job took much more specific angles—one on excess, one on systemic corruption. But Me and My Money remains the most "human" of the bunch.
💡 You might also like: Diego Klattenhoff Movies and TV Shows: Why He’s the Best Actor You Keep Forgetting You Know
It didn't want to change the tax code. It wanted to change how you felt when you opened your wallet.
The film serves as a reminder that the "Money Movie" genre doesn't have to be about Wall Street. It can be about the kitchen table. It can be about the silent car ride home after a failed business meeting.
What You Can Do Right Now
If you're fascinated by the themes Alexandra Cassavetes explored, you don't have to wait to find a rare copy of the film to start auditing your own "money psychology."
- Track the Emotion, Not Just the Expense: For one week, when you spend money, write down how you felt. Were you bored? Anxious? Trying to impress someone? This is exactly what the film's subjects had to confront.
- Define Your "Enough" Number: Most of the unhappy people in the movie didn't have a ceiling. They just wanted "more." Write down what "enough" looks like for you—not just in terms of a salary, but in terms of time and freedom.
- Watch Related Works: Since this film is hard to track down, look into the work of other Cassavetes family members to understand the raw, improvisational style that influenced this documentary. Films like A Woman Under the Influence offer a similar deep dive into the human psyche, albeit in a fictional setting.
- Audit Your Influences: The film highlights how much of our desire is "mimetic"—we want what others want. Look at your social media feed. Is it fueling a healthy relationship with wealth, or is it making you chase a ghost?
Money isn't just math. It's a story we tell ourselves. The "Me" in Me and My Money is the most important part of the equation. Always has been.