Dir.
Robert Luketic, US, 2008, 123 mins
Cast: Jim Sturgess, Kate Bosworth, Kevin Spacey,
Laurence Fishburne
Review by Richard Mellor
Telling how a group
of Boston students took Las Vegas’ casinos for millions, Bringing Down The House
was a non-fiction true story by Ben Mezrich that filled the
coffers itself, loitering on the US bestsellers list for 59
weeks. With such proven material, 21’s visionaries probably
figured they couldn’t help but find success in translating
the tale to screen; but then again, as their protagonists on
screen themselves realise, good odds aren’t always to
be trusted.
Put in blackjack terms, the chief crime
committed by 21’s
producers (including Spacey) and scriptwriters is to twist
when they should stick. Largely remaining faithful to Mezrich’s
entertaining book, they err in adding in terribly trite plot
dynamics – an all-too-typical example of Hollywood meddling
(the film was bankrolled by Colmbia Pictures) ending badly.
Such errors unfortunately mar a fresh-faced, well-paced and
genuinely involving drama thriller.
Armed with a hip soundtrack (MGMT’s
Time To Pretend blares over the opening credits), Luketic
breezily establishes his premise: despite being a doe-eyed
prodigy, geeky Ben (newcomer Sturgess) still needs oodles
of cash in order to enter Harvard Med School. Opportunity
knocks when an after-school club with a difference courts
him: led by tutor Micky (Spacey), this is a team of gifted
students who have found a way of winning regularly at blackjack
in Sin City.
Involving counting the cards disbursed
and calculating the value of those left in a pontoon dealer’s deck, their
system is complex – requiring a team of five, including
the Ben’s long-term crush Jill (Bosworth) – but
not illegal. That’s not to say Vegas’ casinos are
powerless though; as the group’s greed grows, so does
the threat of violence from job-threatened security guard Cole
Williams (Fishburne).
Clichés come as prodigiously as chips. Ben and Jill’s
romance feels all too obligatory, a wan gimmick vamping up
the exoticism of our hero’s sexy new world. Equally predictable
is Ben’s abandonment of his old, uncool (there’s
even a token fat one!) friends back home. But the biggest certainty
of all is the young gambler’s fall from grace – as
in all parables about avarice, there simply must come a tumble.
Just ask Macbeth.
For all these hollow moments, Luketic’s film compels
when taking us inside Vegas’ dim chambers. As he floats
from one table to another, eye and table-level cameras provide
a real sense of being on the floor with Ben, allowing viewers
to suffer every tense card flip and suggestion of trouble amid
a constant, buzzing hum. Back in Boston, all is boringly humdrum,
with the visuals are noticeably more languid.
Spacey is back to his wicked, schizophrenic best as the scheming
professor. Slowly but surely his once-cuddly Micky reveals
his true colours, dollar signs positively etched in his cruel
eyes and a longing for power forcing its way to his surface.
His fellow veteran Fishburne fares less well, his enforcer
an muddling mix of technology-threatened, nostalgic insecurity
and pure violent thuggery.
As for the young guard, Sturgess is
likeable enough as clever boy Ben, Bosworth typically spunky
and intelligent and Josh Gad blessed with the best lines
as abandoned pal Miles. All are hindered though by a fundamental
absence of character development, save for sporadic hints
at maturity. For supposed junior geniuses, they also don’t
seem the brightest bunch, forever flirting with danger and
overbearing greed.
Luketic’s film continues to dirty its fine source material
by inserting a grating moral-of-the-story tone and a desultory ‘twist’ that’s
more of a sluggish turn. It also lasts 10 minutes too long.
But even with all these problems, 21 remains an enjoyable and
gratifying tale, a sort of Good Will Hunting meets Casino,
with a little Oceans 11-style glitz and panache thrown in for
good measure. Seems it was a safe bet all along.
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