Last year brought a glut of star-studded adaptations that tackled real-life scammer stories, from “The Dropout” to “Inventing Anna.” This year, Hollywood has shifted focus to the business tycoon-as-protagonist. Makers of jobs! And lots and lots of money. Who better to be at the center of the narrative? I mean, I can think of plenty of others, actually.

But here we are with “The Beanie Bubble,” the Apple TV+ movie about Beanie Babies and the company that makes them, the Westmont-based Ty Inc., named for its founder Ty Warner.

The movie comes on the heels of “Air” (about Nike’s line of basketball shoes), “Tetris” (the eponymous video game), “BlackBerry” (the smartphone brand) and “Flamin’ Hot” (processed snack foods). That’s five movies about the wonders of corporate mythmaking — some flattering, some not, but none particularly invested in thoughtful critique — all released in just the first half of 2023. To a one, they lean into the aesthetics of the ‘80s and ‘90s, becoming fantasias of dated clothing and period-appropriate needle drops. But these depictions skim over the surface, rather than actually capturing a moment in time and pop culture.

If nothing else, Hollywood would like you to worship at the altar of captains of industry. Enjoy these movies all you want, but let us note this abundance amid the remarkable absence of stories about unions and labor actions.

Do studio executives have an aversion to narratives about the frequently underpaid and under-appreciated collective workforce that makes all these corporate endeavors possible? If you think this lineup of films is mere coincidence, I have a sneaker/video game/smartphone/snack food/stuffed animal to sell you. Or rather, Hollywood does.

But more to the point, rarely do these subjects make good films. Complicated films.

“The Beanie Bubble” may be based on Zac Bissonnette’s 2015 nonfiction book “The Great Beanie Baby Bubble: Mass Delusion and the Dark Side of Cute,” but the script from Kristin Gore (daughter of Al Gore) is not aiming for veracity, exactly. Winkingly — and I would argue disingenuously — it offers a disclaimer that the story presented here embroiders and strays from a strictly factual retelling.

Fictionalize the story as much as you want, I say. But then don’t end the movie with a squishy “where are they now” postscript for the main characters, all of whom — aside from Ty, played by Zach Galifianakis — are not even real people, but invented composites.

The characters in question are three women who had major roles in Ty’s personal and professional dealings: His business partner played by Elizabeth Banks, who is savvy but ultimately screwed out of her rightful place in the corporate hierarchy; his longtime, long-suffering fiancée played by “Succession’s” Sarah Snook, whose two little girls inspire some of the company’s ideas; and the college-age internet whiz played by Geraldine Viswanathan, who pinpoints the Beanie Baby popularity’s online and leverages that to the company’s advantage.

Each woman is swept up by Ty’s … I don’t know what to call it. It’s not charm. Enthusiasm? Apparent sincerity? Guilelessness? He’s a friendly enigma at first. But then eventually they each feel the sting of his betrayals and then it’s big trouble in the world of tiny plushies.

As played by Galifianakis, Ty’s demeanor is unnerving and strange. He is prone to theatrical displays of emotion, but he is also thin-skinned and preoccupied with getting one face-lift after another. Is he a canny business person or did he luck into success thanks to the efforts of these three women?

The movie isn’t sure, but wants to point you in the direction of the latter. “Ty would tell you he did it all,” says Banks’ character. But that’s baloney: “We built that company together from nothing. I mean, that’s the whole point of America, right? Work hard. Build something good. Get yourself in the right place at the right time and boom.”

That’s the whole point of America? Well, it might as well be the thesis statement for all of these like-minded films.

Screenwriter Gore codirects with husband Damian Kulash (who is also the lead singer of OK Go) and the film struggles to figure out what story it wants to tell. Is it a cautionary tale? A girl boss anthem? A horror story about a menacing man? None of it really lands because there is no mood, or even feelings. It makes Apple’s other business origin story, “Tetris,” look like a masterpiece by comparison because at least there’s some intrigue in that one.

“When eBay did half a million dollars,” someone says in voice-over about the Beanie Baby secondary market, “we did 400 times that in retail, $200 million every month. It was so much money.”

In 2014, the real Ty Warner was sentenced to two years’ probation. According to the U.S. attorney’s office of Northern Illinois, his crime was “failing to report more than $24.4 million in income and evading nearly $5.6 million in federal taxes from millions of dollars he hid for more than a decade in secret foreign financial accounts at two banks based in Switzerland.”

The story behind that and the resulting plea deal is probably far more interesting — and telling about our systems, and how justice works for the haves and the have nots — than anything Gore and Kulash present on screen.

“The Beanie Bubble” — 2 stars (out of 4)

Where to watch: Apple TV+

Nina Metz is a Tribune critic

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