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In essence, even the best of this genre are one-note affairs unrealistically glamorising the life and times of a compulsive gambler. Like Eddie Felson (The Hustler) or Axel Freed (The Gambler), these tarnished heroes, despite their betting affliction, have a suggested nobility that overshadows the seedy commoners their addiction forces them to mingle with. In short, they think they're "something else," and you know how low-life bullies feel about that.
What else is there to say on the subject? Winning feels great. Losing feels yecch. And if you don't stop gambling despite perennial losses, you're a masochist who's bound to be jacked-up by gangsters. Movies focusing on such folk inevitably emulate the very syndrome they dissect, shaping the plot into one big bet: Will this particular gambler be the one to beat the daunting odds? Rounders follows suit with few surprises.
The latest handsome stereotype to outshine his roguish milieu is Matt Damon (Good Will Hunting) as Mike McDermott, a young card sharp with poker skills to match his looks and likeability. With his gaming Jones in remission following an opening scene setback that was supposed to catapult him to the Las Vegas Poker World Series, Mike shares his New York digs with attractive fellow law student/love interest, Jo (Gretchen Mol). It's her contention that Mike can better put his native skills to use in a court of law.
But then Mike's childhood friend, the cruising-for-a-bruising Worm (Edward Norton), is released from prison. Of course you don't need poker smarts to read this hand. It's apparent that all of girlfriend's reformist work is a mere house of cards. In less than 24-hours, the bad influence from Hell sees to it that, not only does Mike lose all his money, but that he is now in debt for $25 thousand to a life-threatening loan shark.
What follows as Mike and Worm try to meet their do-or-die deadline is an entertaining but ultimately hollow buddy-buddy odyssey through the underbelly of high-stakes card playing, from gangster-run back rooms with speakeasy entranceways to the legitimate glitz of Atlantic City. Along the way, they meet a colourful cadre of Runyonesque characters.
Earning top supporting honours is John Malkovich as Teddy KGB, an eccentric gambling den boss with strong ties to the Russian Mafia. Mr. Malkovich's comically suspect but nevertheless amusing accent proves to be the icing on an over-the-top performance, to be prized for its chutzpah. Also good despite a script that supplies too few inspired lines, Edward Norton in the Devil's advocate role reminds of those recklessly sociopathic bad boys Sean Penn and Eric Roberts used to portray.
Other players of thespic note include: John Turturro as uncharacteristically thoughtful Joey, the steady-as-she-goes gambler who hasn't had to do real work in fifteen years; Martin Landau as Petrovsky, Mike's schmaltzy but terribly sincere law professor; and Michael Rispoli as Grama, the most repugnant heavy you will encounter at the movies this year.
Perhaps director John Dahl hoped these rather entertaining caricatures would compensate for poor plot exposition and a screenplay that is as unambitious as it is weak. But it's no dice. Despite all the scruffy characters and locations, the work is antiseptic. It's as if Disney had designed a Living On The Edge ride that mimics the travail of a compulsive gambler -- simulating the up-and-down mood that comes from being on a self-destructive jag, but sparing us the nitty gritty.
While director Dahl correctly appreciates that the life of an addictive personality can seamlessly run day into night, the film's ebb and flow fails to convey the brutally red-eyed exhaustion that accompanies a gambler's lifestyle. One perfunctory attempt at realism has Mike and Worm mercilessly beaten by some poker-playing state troopers they try to scam. But pain in Rounders, both mental and physical, is never permanent. The vivid thrashing is followed by that magical recuperation that can only occur in Hollywood.
Had the director played his cards right, he might have upped the ante by paying more than just lip service to Mike's scanty law school career or by imbuing the barely existent romantic angle with a little more significance. But by offering no vision past the next card game, Mr. Dahl stacks the deck against himself. Hence, the smart money will sit this hand out until the diverting but emotionally flat Rounders is available on video.
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