Expecting some Raging Bull passion, or the quirky wittiness of The King of Comedy? You won’t find that in Casino. However, with regards to present-day movie space in America, Casino has more clout than your typical fiction and plenty of weight than you would expect from director Martin Scorsese.
Casino gives you’re a glimpse into the lives of ordinary people with as much jolt as was possible at the time the movie was made. Its packages into three hours full of Las Vega’s Vintage glitter, a reminder that the director gave scenes in this movie a breathtaking, surreal, intensity akin to that of a money-mad mirage. The real work is nothing like it’s depicted in the movie – painfully impoverish!
With plenty of neon and wards of cash, lowlife, and high roller hoods, Casino explores some of the U.S’s flashiest neighborhoods. The scene presents enough quagmire for a morality case study, however, it’s the tone that icing on the cake. It’s staunchly tabloid, something you will notice straight away thanks to its matter of fact closing sentence – and that was that.
Casino features investigative journalism. Don’t expect a lot of sharp focus, and be ready for three hours of a cast whose lives are messy. De Niro takes the role of Ace, a casino manager representing a criminal underworld, is killed in a car explosion, but for some reason, is allowed to feature till the closing credits. He is clay-footed, but the director’s hero and a survivor whose only fault is his inability to judge correctly the woman in his life as being nothing but dangerous.
Ace play cop for the underworld and his only job is to make sure everyone else tows the line so that his bosses can about their crime in comfort. While he is efficient at what he does, Ace is up-ended by Nicky (Joe Pesci), crook and friend Ginger (Sharon Stone), a lady whose life was turned upside down by the proverbial bottle of booze, friend (James Woods and drugs.
It’s easy to tell that Pesci and De Niro have been there and done that – De Niro, a nerveless loner, and the flamboyant, murderous youngster. Sharon stone, on the other hand, had never come close to this level of acting before Casino. Her, I am that person for whom even happiness is not enough, is well executed.
The content that Nicholas Pileggi, the reportorial journalist, unearths features a lot of truth, intricate mob trivia, and casts whose obsessive and devious fury is in tandem with the director’s intent.
Scorsese has had similar success elsewhere in the film Goodfellas, but Casino brings much more – a sweltering bitterness as well as an infectious overindulgence. Casino’s long stretch, which unwinds like a complex equation brings with it some Déjà vu. There are some elements of other movies that the director has handled in Casino. Looking at it from various vantage points gives you the sense that it is different each time. IT can be troubling, especially for critics, because it feels it’s a symphony you know but can’t quite place it.