! ! ! ! The Casino of Crime Films: Glamor and Demonization ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Selected Topics in Film Studies: Crime Genres Dan Babineau ! ! Matthew Dessner ! ! ! ! November 25, 2014 The Casino of Crime Films: Glamor and Demonization “I hate Disneyland. It primes our kids for Las Vegas.” - Tom Waits (“Tom Waits Biography” - IMDB) Since childhood, we have been commodified into dream-seekers. Companies like Disney profit in producing aspiring superheroes and princesses, promoting dreams as attainable commodities to every boy and girl; their slogan, “where dreams come true” perfectly encapsulates this notion ("Disney Parks | Where Dreams Come True."). Las Vegas is no different; Robert De Niro illustrates how “running a casino… is like selling people’s dreams for cash” in his opening monologue as Ace Rothstein in Scorcese’s 1995 masterpiece, Casino. The city of lights turns its guests into commodified dogs on a leash, gnawing at an unattainable dream of winning big, of being big and of living big; these dream seekers, try as they might, will never be free of the leash which restricts them from doing so and thusly, Ace clarifies, “the truth about Las Vegas… we’re the only winners [and] the players don't stand a chance”. While gambling has been around for millennia, the casino’s commodification into a space where dreams are bought and sold is but a constructed capitalist mentality propagated by the media’s portrayal. Frankfurt school theorists, Adorno & Horkheimer, expand upon a Marxist critique explaining how in the culture industry products are judged upon their extrinsic economic value; thus the “triumph of invested capital” is of utmost importance, while the superficial elements are worthless, existing only to keep a society entertained (99). After removing the glitter, the luxurious venues, the welldressed croupiers, the scantily-clad women, thus de-fetishizing the conspicuous elements of the casino commodity, what remains is a space designed to collect an unprecedented amount of profit. Any discussion regarding the media’s representation of the casino must then focus upon 1 the epicentre of the gambling world and its superficialities, Las Vegas. Films undoubtably contribute to the unending refinement of the ideological discourses which provide meaning to the casino and the world-wide gambling mecca. Moreover, the crime genre in particular has a uniquely thought-provoking narrative potential, because it proposes a socio-cultural questioning of the ethics behind gambling and casino culture. Many addicts will admit that while they simply enjoy gambling, their goal is always to outplay the house; therefore, in perceiving the casino as an adversarial force, we are fascinated by the crime film which tells the story of a person or group successfully “beating” the casino or winning a large sum of money. It thus becomes a battle between the unlawful casinos, often backed by mafia related groups who will go to any and every means to make sure they don't lose capital, and the players who will often use unlawful methods or tricks that have been frowned upon to gain an upper hand. To summarize, this analysis will consider a select group of crime films which best develop an ideological discourse characterizing casino culture in order to better understand the intrinsic allure of Las Vegas, the casino, of gambling and of the gamblers; furthermore, I hypothesize that while the discourses perpetuated by these films create a false consciousness wherein our wildest dreams come true, they concurrently demonize the forces which would prevent these dreams from being realized in actuality. In order to develop my analysis I looked at several films including: Casino, The Good Thief, Ocean’s Eleven (2001), Casino Royale (2006), Rounders, 21, God of Gamblers, Bob le Flambeur, Hard Eight, Tazza: The High Rollers and The Cooler. The films had all been released in theatres and received above 6.5 on IMDB. Numerous films were made outside of the United States which adds a limited but relevant international significance to my analysis. Finally, I 2 tended to gravitate towards Martin Scorcese’s Casino because it best epitomizes many of the discourses present in all of the considered films. Even if one has never gotten the chance to attend a casino, they would likely already hold a certain set of expectations due to its portrayal in the media: neon lights are flashing, people are dressed up and looking beautiful while money is being thrown around like candy. Aesthetically, every casino in the world seems to look up to the big casinos which dominate a part of Las Vegas that has been nicknamed The Strip. Many of the films I analyzed either perpetuated this ideal casino aesthetic or alluded to it, glorifying the high-stakes world of gambling and making it seem ever so attractive. In Scorcese’s Casino, the Tangiers is aesthetically beautiful, however, its glamour is not achieved so much in flashy looks but in the film’s narrative. Ace Rothstein will only accept the best at his Casino; for instance, when a croupier doesn't stack his chips properly, Ace threatens to fire him, and when a certain dancer doesn’t meet her weight requirement he forces the choreographer to get rid of her. In other films, the ideal casino aesthetic is displayed visually; for example, in Robert Luketic’s 21, Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s Eleven, and Neil Jordan’s The Good Thief, the casinos are all grandiose, beautiful and flashy - just as the spectator expects them to be. Grand staircases, million dollar paintings and arched ceilings are just examples of what might be found within the Monte Carlo casino displayed in The Good Thief. In 21, we are introduced to Las Vegas and casino culture with an aesthetically gripping sequence that tours down The Strip and bombards the spectator with the lights and sounds of the city of sin. Towards the end of Ocean’s Eleven the glory of the casino is so strongly symbolized when a boisterous audience is attending the establishment’s boxing match; its presence becomes dually important because it also displays a symbolic onlooking of the $160 million dollar heist which is 3 simultaneously taking place. As it boils down, the situation is akin to some sort of gladiatorial combat with Ocean’s beloved gang of thieves representing the challengers and Terry Benedict, the billionaire owner as the champion who will be dethroned while a barbaric audience is watching. The idealized image of the casino is further promoted by its underbelly - a somewhat dark and grimy divergent space often depicted as a training area of sorts. It should be noted that this place differs in narrative objective across any certain set of casino-related films, however, it always provides a stark contrast when placed beside the idealized casino. In Ocean’s Eleven, Daniel Ocean’s adept cunning is displayed early on in the film when he out bluffs a group of friends and wins a large sum from a poker hand. This scene takes place in a suspicious space within the back room of a club where the only things illuminated are the actors faces at the poker table and the erotic dancers in the background. This is then contrasted against the golden interior of the casino depicted towards the end of the film. This effect provides a symbolic rags to riches and the heist narrative further supports that suggestion. In John Dahl’s Rounders, Mike McDermott and Worm are obsessive gamblers who spend much of their time in shady bars and private spaces playing high stakes poker against some threatening opponents. Up until the final scene it seems as if the biggest stage for McDermott is in the basement of a Russian mob boss; however, as the film’s conclusion suggests, the whole movie was just a preparation for his hopeful attendance at the televised world series games - the biggest stage in poker. In Casino, the mob bosses which immorally govern Las Vegas from their hideout in Kansas City are often seen dining, conversing and playing cards behind closed doors at a local Italian grocery. In their book, Casino State, James F. Cosgrave and Thomas R. Klassen discuss this “back room’ phenomenon 4 stating that “informal card games with money stakes taking place in back rooms of commercial premises, attracting local businessmen, municipal officials, and farmers, were seen as innocuous by some and embarrassments by others” (33). For governments, there is a desire to regulate back room gambling, bringing all high-stakes action to the casinos where it can be properly taxed. Cosgrave and Klassen continue, mentioning how over the last 80 years, “the move into casinos, video lottery terminals, and sports betting is a response to developments and competition where ongoing liberalization creates market pressures, and where jurisdictions are in competition for gambling dollars” (49). These political developments have clearly become accepted socially and throughout the media. The glamorous, fast-paced casino has been depicted in films, which in turn, causes its antithesis - the back room gambling space, to carry negative connotations. Therefore, a circle is created wherein earlier media representations of the idealized casino contributed to the development of a discourse with a certain set of ideologies; sequentially, newer films will follow and develop upon said discourse. Thus, the casino and, particularly, the major Las Vegas establishments have become and will likely remain the biggest stages for the characters in crime films to occupy - professional gamblers, heist crews, mafiosos, businessmen their lives will eventually lead them to Vegas or to somewhere relatively comparable. To conduct an analysis of this type, one would be foolish to not acknowledge the personalities of the characters at play. The animated opening sequence of Martin Campbell’s 2006 Bond film, Casino Royale, beautifully illustrates and typifies many tropes and character tendencies of the style. Set to Chris Cornell and David Arnold’s “You Know My Name”, the sequence exhibits endless imagery affiliated with a deck of playing cards. For instance, characters are shot with bullets in the shape of spades, they bleed diamonds, jacks fire at the 5 Bond silhouette, while the queen is watching over the action. Everything becomes afflicted with gambling-related symbolism; throughout the film this grows in meaning and fully represents the characteristics of greed and fame. The imagery continues as enemy silhouettes are being killed by Bond, exploding in to hearts and spilled across the screen. Meanwhile, Cornell sings “the coldest blood runs through my veins, you know my name” - a line that would fit quite well within the scripts of any casino-related crime film. Ocean’s Eleven intriguingly concludes with the words, “liar” and “thief”; while the words are directed towards the main characters, it provides further understanding to symbolically attribute them to the casino management as well. Throughout the film the spectator is unfailingly supportive of the heist, hoping that Ocean’s eleven men get away with the crime. As collective dream seekers, with an adversarial view towards the casino we see the management as criminals themselves, lying and stealing money from citizens while making the whole operation seem legal. Casino management, security, gamblers and thieves alike must all be cold blooded to some extent when working in an inherently unethical field. For this reason, many protagonists expressed a particular reluctancy upon entering the gambling business. For instance, in Casino, Ace is persuaded after a long discussion with one of the mob bosses, while in 21, card counter Ben is convinced into the artful operation by his teacher and love interest. There is a symbolic innocence that is lost when characters go from an honest career path to a lifestyle of gambling and money-driven work. The radical of which is impeccably alluded to in Rounders, where we see McDermott transform from a model law student into a marked man, gambling for his life. There are other tropes which seem to be often associated with casino-related crime films. Apart from the characteristics of greed and fame, characters frequently struggle with the ability 6 to trust another person. Indeed, trust is hard to come by in films where the amassing of capital takes centre stage. In Casino, Ace rightfully struggles to trust his troubled wife as she continuously acts disloyal to him. Likewise, he and his psychopathic childhood friend, Nicky share an unwavering trust despite their growing annoyance towards each other - and even at the climax of the film Nicky refuses to kill Ace when given the opportunity. In Ocean’s Eleven and 21 the characters are forced to display an immeasurable amount of trust in one another because their respective heist operations and card counting assignments require all members to be on the same page. At a certain point in Ocean’s Eleven when Daniel is holding a secret, members of the group survey him to assess if he is trustworthy. Trust, or, the lack thereof is a notion fully linked to the casino. When at a poker table, even with friends, one must, as instructed by Daniel’s best friend Rusty, “leave emotion at the door”. The importance of trust is addressed in quite the forthright manner by a crooked stockbroker in Casino Royale who before killing his business partner declares that “money isn’t as valuable to our organization as knowing who to trust”. Surveillance and security often play a major role. In nearly every film, security was an oppressive force; as such, it tended to take an adversarial role much like the casino itself, becoming a major obstacle to the happy ending of the narrative. In a heist film like Ocean’s Eleven or The Good Thief, it is a primary obstacle to the thieves’ end goal. In both films, tactics were put in motion to bypass security systems and guards. One tactic used in both stories required a certain technologically adept character to hack the casino surveillance systems, allowing the thieves to broadcast a fake signal while the vault was being broken into. We sympathize with the thieves because casino security is often seen as greedy, using unlawful methods to ensure that owners never lose significant amounts of capital; this fully goes against 7 the spectators desired dream seeking narrative. This can manifest in violent action; for instance, in Casino, and 21 security beats its casino-goers to a pulp if they so dare to try anything suspicious. In Paul Thomas Anderson’s Hard Eight, Jimmy, a casino security guard becomes the primary threat to the calm and composed Sydney who struggles to deal with his shameful past. Moreover, the surveillance cameras take a life of their own. In Ace’s opening monologue of Casino, he mentions that while everybody involved in the casino hierarchy is observing the actions of those below themselves, making sure that nobody steps out of line, Ace states that “the eye in the sky is watching us all”. No one is free from surveillance. Such an oppressive system often requires a touch of fantastical intervention for one to be triumphant. There’s a reason that the narrative of Ocean’s Eleven would never happen in real life - its essentially impossible. The unbelievably impeccable timing of the heist down to the last second, the fact that the heist team stole and set off a pinch (electromagnetic bomb that was used to disrupt the city’s power supply) from the back of a van without being caught or having the amount of power that would be necessary to do so - this supernatural intervention of sorts is obviously geared towards the spectators entertainment. However, some of the films made these supernatural occurrences quite conspicuous. For instance, in Wong Jing’s God of Gamblers, Ko Chun discovers his superhuman gambling abilities which allow him to win every single bet he makes. Similarly, at the end of The Good Thief, Bob Montagnet, a gambler who had been afflicted with quite the losing streak has his fortunes reversed in quite the supernatural fashion. After already having won numerous hands, on a bet worth millions of dollars, Bob is dealt a 10 ace straight, forcing the casino to cut his night short. The fantastical narrative of the film is also symbolized by the films imaginative editing which uses freeze-frames among other editorial 8 techniques to make the viewer aware that they are indeed watching a film and the narrative is not equal to reality. By the end of Rounders, Mike McDermott is convinced that the only place on earth where he feels alive is at the poker table. Rightfully, the film ends with him beginning his journey to Vegas. Similarly, in God of Gamblers, Ko Chun plans to leave Hong Kong and use his supernatural powers in Vegas. Indeed, all roads lead to Las Vegas. In 21 Ben’s love interest tells him that “the best thing about Vegas is you can become anyone you want”. This mentality is obviously shared by many characters. In Casino Nicky describes the city as “untouched”. In this way, Las Vegas becomes like the wild west - an interesting comparison when one contemplates the history of American Colonialism. At a certain point in the same film the county commissioner warns Ace that “your people will never understand the way it works out here you’re all just our guests but you act like you’re at home”. This statement holds a great amount of meaning; while professional gamblers, heist crews, mafiosos and businessmen all flock to Vegas, the locals - people who actually live in the state of Nevada are somewhat forgotten and pushed aside. These individuals often work in the casino as dealers, cooks, maids and janitors but their stories are completely forgotten or simply ignored by the media (Miller 7). If we further contextualize this statement, we can dig deep into the history of American Colonialism and see that even those who settled in and around Las Vegas further displaced the Indians upon their arrival in the mid-1800s (Warren and Mooney). In this way, Casino becomes imbued with meaning, motivating us to question the capitalist nature of society at its roots. Ultimately, in considering the casino as symbolized discourse of capitalism, many aspects of casino and gambling culture identify with this comparison. The average citizen is always looking 9 out for themselves; they’ll do anything to make an extra buck. They work honest, alienating jobs and dream of winning big money so they can escape the “forces of production” (Borchert 732). Meanwhile, the leaders of society set rules into place - or casino games; the games do not have fair odds and the leaders ensure that they stay profitable. However, in reality, the leaders are just figureheads of sorts, and they are being told what to do by another certain set of insanely wealthy people - in Marxist terms, the “relations of production” (Borchert 732). Furthermore, we are constantly being surveyed to make sure that we don’t step out of line. Evidently, everything revolves around money. Capitalism is so engrained in our minds that we negotiate with it in our dreams, perceiving a city like Las Vegas as the place where dreams are made. The casino of crime films is so attractive because the we hunger to believe in chance and luck, because only with good fortune might we be able to escape the monotony of the work day. Adorno and Horkheimer describe chance in a capitalist society distinguishing that it “itself is planned, not because it affects any particular individual but precisely because it is believed to play a vital part. It serves the planners as an alibi, and makes it seem that the complex of transactions and measures into which life has been transformed leaves scope for spontaneous and direct relations between man” (117). The average winner at a casino will not threaten the owner, and in fact, a winner is necessary for citizens to continue going to the casino. The odd winner will not escape capitalism, because they cannot escape its circular embrace; even after winning a big hand, said individual might buy everyone a round of drinks, throwing the money back into the system which confines them so. Characterizing Las Vegas as a city where dreams come true is thusly a false consciousness fully supported by the films in this analysis; however, we are fully aware of the 10 casino’s magnetic appeal which is why we further demonize it and doubt the ethical practices of those who are in charge. Either way, there is a definitive aura surrounding the Vegas portrayed in these films. A thought-provoking conclusion to Scorcese’s Casino documents how after Ace left the business, many of the older casino establishments with mafia affiliations were being demolished and replaced with commercialized, mass-produced nonsense. In these brand new casinos customer service disappeared; Ace discusses how today, a visit to Vegas is “like checking into an airport, and if you order room service, you’re lucky if you get it by Thursday”. This assessment directly coincides with Adorno & Horkheimer’s concept of a culture industry wherein the superficialities of the casino are completely unimportant; mass production has taken every product and made it identical (95), and in consequence, the discourses which embody the Vegas casino lose some of their prior meaning. Therefore I ask, will this city still be as relevant in the future? Furthermore, will the casino heist or the gamblers narrative continue to arouse the film viewer? - I wouldn’t bet on it. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 11 Works Cited ! 21. Dir. Robert Luketic. Columbia Pictures, 2008. Bob Le Flambeur. Dir. Jean-Pierre Melville. 1956. Borchert, Donald M. "Karl Marx." Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Detroit, MI: Thomson Gale/ Macmillan Reference USA, 2006. 730-35. Print. Casino. Dir. Martin Scorsese. Universal Pictures, 1995. Casino Royale. Dir. Martin Campbell. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer / Columbia Pictures, 2006. The Cooler. Dir. Wayne Kramer. Lionsgate, 2003. Cosgrave, James F., and Thomas R. Klassen. Casino State: Legalized Gambling in Canada. Toronto: U of Toronto, 2009. Print. "Disney Parks | Where Dreams Come True." Disney Parks | Where Dreams Come True. Disney, n.d. Web. 22 Nov. 2014. God of Gamblers. Dir. Wong Jing. Win's Movie Production & I/E Co. Ltd., 1989. The Good Thief. Dir. Neil Jordan. Fox Searchlight, 2002. Hard Eight. Dir. Paul Thomas Anderson. Goldwyn Films, 1996. Horkheimer, Max, and Theodor W. Adorno. Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments. Ed. Gunzelin Schmid Noerr. Stanford, CA: Stanford UP, 2002. Print. Miller, Kit. Inside the Glitter, Lives of Casino Workers: Photographs and Interviews. Carson City, NV: Great Basin Pub., 2000. Print. Ocean's Eleven. Dir. Steven Soderbergh. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2001. Rounders. Dir. John. Dahl. Miramax Films, 1998. 12 Tazza: The High Rollers. Dir. Choi Choi Dong-hoon. CJ Entertainment, 2006. "Tom Waits - Biography." IMDb. IMDb.com, n.d. Web. 24 Nov. 2014. Warren, Liz, and Mooney, Courtney. "Pioneer Trail." (2011): n. pag. LASVEGASNEVADA.GOV. City of Las Vegas Arts Commission / Historic Preservation Commission. Web. 22 Nov. 2014. ! ! 13
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