Las Vegas, where dreams are made.
‘Casino’, a film by Martin Scorsese, renowned for its attention to detail in depicting the rise of Las Vegas’ Mafia-controlled era – when ample cash and blood flowed through the city in equal amounts, like cheap drinks onto a shag carpet.
‘Casino’ debuted in 1993, starring Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Sharon Stone, James Woods, and Don Rickles in the top-billed roles, as well as an ensemble cast that fills out this 1993 gangster epic. Based on a novel by Nicholas Pileggi, which in turn was adapted by the author into a screenplay, Casino has the sprawling story stereotypical of a film that pays proper attention to its source material. Scorsese managed to construct a film that not only has the meat necessary to tell such a grandiose tale of romance, crime, betrayal, and obsession, but did so, while weaving a masterfully gripping narrative considered to be near-perfect by cinephiles and critics alike. The story beats are highlighted in swift bursts – often connected with small segments of music – which works beautifully to the film’s benefit. In some ways, this stylization must be hard to emulate: just look to 2016’s ‘Suicide Squad’ for an example of this technique gone wrong. Propelling a film forward with non-diegetic musical outburst can either work fabulously, or make for disjointed and unrealized storytelling. Thankfully, Scorsese’s directorial prowess delivered a film with truly saccharine moments – as well as an ebullient, alacritous-feeling picture; that zooms along pacing-wise – a powerful tool of filmmaking, one which ensures that an objectively long film doesn’t drag in the second half. In short, ‘Casino’ had plenty of obstacles to overcome in its inception, yet managed to become one of the most beloved movies of the 1990s. This is why Martin Scorsese is often allocated to the top of esteemed directors lists – along with Kubrick, Coppola, Oliver Stone, Tarantino, Paul Thomas Anderson, Hitchcock, and many others that deserve mentioning.
An aspect that manages to impress against-all-odds: is the narration. From a classical standpoint; copious narration is considered a no-no, albeit, it has been used to great effect in cinema many times before. However the screenwriter’s maxim is “show, don’t tell”… but opposingly: when narration is made an integral part of a film; communicating more emotion and character-depth than otherwise possible, it not only becomes a positive to the writing, but an absolute. Put more simply: there are some stories that demand narration and it’s in a filmmaker’s best interest to figure out if their picture fits that category. Does it work in favour of the spirit of the movie —- or no?
And how to execute such narration, and to what degree. Scorsese deftly places narration throughout his piece, ensuring that Rothstein’s and Nicky’s voiceover is informed by the narrative – and not the other way around. It’s a constant throughout the film: contrasting the music in a technical sense, but in actuality, melding harmoniously. The emotional tenure of the musical elements and narration coincide more often than not – and when they clash – it’s clearly intentional and used excellently to create viewer dissonance. An example of this is when Sam “Ace” Rothstein (De Niro) confronts Lester Diamond (James Woods): a card-shark, and quasi-pimp, who happens to be his wife’s longtime boyfriend – a fact that Rothstein very much resents. During this exchange the music played is effortlessly romantic; while the dialogue is visceral and aggressive. Clear, intentional; contrasting.
Between the rapid-pace dialogue, background music (diegetic and non-diegetic), and the continual narration…there are a myriad of competing elements at play. A cinematic blueprint that conceivably shouldn’t work but somehow does. The way in which this film coalesces – proves that Scorsese is nothing short of genius.
The acting that deserves first mention – in my opinion – has to be Sharon Stone’s.
Not because it’s unparalleled in comparison to the others, but rather, because it is so over-the-top, unrestrained, and mercurial. A feat which is tremendously difficult to pull off, as any actor runs the risk of delivering a portrayal that may be judged as hamfisted if they don’t hit the mark. Sharon Stone’s performance as Ginger involved taking big risks, and the character’s mood swings combined with her reckless behaviour, make for some fantastically frenetic on-screen energy. Pulling that off requires some serious acting know-how.
The affair that occurs between Nicky Santoro (Joe Pesci) and Ginger (Sharon Stone) half-way through the film exudes sexuality; adulterous, lustful, and passionate; everything that her relationship with her husband is not. Stone stuns in countless scenes – especially those of Ginger accompanying Sam Rothstein on date nights; the former being decked out in glitz, glamour, priceless wardrobe. Ginger is a casino hustler, preying on men with little guile and large libidos. And her fashion, combined with obvious beauty, are her tools of the trade.
‘Casino’ was a clear boon to Stone’s career, skyrocketing her to a household name and becoming a decades-long sex symbol in the process. (‘Basic Instinct’ also played a part in that…)
Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci lead the film as rivaling protagonists: Sam Rothstein and Nicky Santoro; or more accurately, De Niro plays the protagonist and Pesci the deuteragonist, a role that fluctuates between cohort – and foil to the “hero”. This is why the dueling narration serves an extremely important function: informing the viewer of these two longtime friends with conflicting personalities, who are both enmeshed in the criminal underworld but with very different modus operandi. During Nicky’s opening narration, we’re told that “Ace, makes more money for the bosses in a single weekend than I could make in a month robbing places…” this statement follows Ace Rothstein’s opening voiceover that mentions his ability for handicapping gambling bets… one that Pesci’s character interrupts and finishes for him. A wholly unique way to show that these two men’s relationship is based on an intense rivalry, one that Sontoro tends to dominate more than Rothstein does.
Nicky Sontoro (Pesci) is shown early on to have a mean-streak; a serious love for violence. One scene shows him stabbing a man to death with a pen, his (Nicky’s) response to a perceived slight. And his criminal enterprise is succinctly summed up as: rob, steal, intimidate, extort; muscle as many people – to gain whatever you can. One of his more memorable quotes of the film:
“if you had any real balls, you’d be out stealing for a living”. This is a thematic nod to the character’s deep-rooted beliefs and desires. Between break-ins and collecting protection money, Nicky also starts extorting the bookies of the Vegas strip, relying on his mob connections to insulate him from any repercussions.
Sam Rothstein, on the other hand, is a deeply obsessive, controlling, and ordered criminal. He relies on structure and adherence to a strict code – rather than the chaotic violence, and debauchery that his contemporary revels in. “Ace” Rothstein doesn’t have a drug addiction like Nicky; yet, his anal retentive qualities cause nearly as much conflict as the other man’s nonexistent impulse control. Rothstein is shown to be suffering from a form of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) illustrated by a scene where he takes issue with the amount of blueberries in each muffin being cooked by his Casino’s restaurant Even going as far as demanding the baker do a better job distributing fruit in the desserts. The film uses this scene, and his domineering attitude towards Ginger in others, to showcase Sam Rothstein’s many neuroses.
Okay, so you know what?
I’m going to call it – a film this massive, requires a second article. So, in the next part I’ll cover the plot, Joe Pesci/Robert De Niro’s acting, and the cinematography.
Ciao, for now.
Rating 10/10
Fresh baked ziti and a blueberry muffin.
(Stay tuned for Part II)