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The Casino of Crime Films: Glamor and Demonization
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Selected Topics in Film Studies: Crime Genres
Dan Babineau
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Matthew Dessner
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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Works Cited
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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.
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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.
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