To be honest, I had no idea a movie was out until just yesterday. Does that speak to the movie's lack of advertising, or my near-total ignorance of movies? 
 All's well. I'd rather not have the movie affect my perception of the novel. It was a safe bet, as this was a deeply challenging and stimulating little book, and now one of my favorites by DeLillo. 
 DeLillo's ornate and hallucinatory prose style is reason enough to read him. So we turn to the 'plot', which is a very loose definition for the series of events forthcoming, and again is a string of thoughts, reflections, and vivid events and ruminations. 
 We see Eric Packer, a young tycoon, venture across New York in a marble-floored limousine, through presidential motorcades, a mystic-rapper's funeral, immolation, the ideological crises of late 1990s capitalism, and so forth. The Odyssey in the New York of Giuliani, of Enron, and Trump. I do not know who the actor for Packer was, so I saw instead a mask-like face, distorted by plastic surgery. Thinking and observing mostly. He ponders the deepest structural changes while aiming for the most cosmetic one - a haircut. Overwhelming streams of data and capital, and the atavistic impulse to smash it all. 
 More of a prose-poem than a novel, really. Deliciously heavy and ominous. Fits in our world as much as it did then. Perhaps only he might have predicted the decade after.