An expert gambler is hired by the mob to run a casino in Vegas. He turns it into a huge success, but his homicidal best friend and his untrustworthy wife threaten to end his reign. Those expecting the passion of Raging Bull or the unorthodox, quirky brilliance of The King Of Comedy may well be disappointed with Casino. But in the context of present-day American cinema, the. Casino is a 1995 American epic crime film directed by Martin Scorsese, produced by Barbara De Fina and distributed by Universal Pictures.The film is based on the nonfiction book Casino: Love and Honor in Las Vegas by Nicholas Pileggi, who also co-wrote the screenplay for the film with Scorsese.It stars Robert De Niro, Sharon Stone, Joe Pesci, Don Rickles, Kevin Pollak and James Woods.
If you like to know where you are with a director, Casino is the movie for you. Placing The Age Of Innocence and Cape Fear to one side for a moment, here we have Scorsese returning to what he knows best, and to the people he loves.
Co-written with GoodFellas screenwriter Nicholas Pileggi, and starring the usual suspects in the form of Bobby De Niro and Joe Pesci, you also have the warm reassurance of the presence of many of GoodFellas' character actors, grizzled of visage and twitchy of trigger-finger, Scorsese's mum doing a cameo, Elaine and Saul Bass producing the opening credits, and many recognisable directorial flourishes. Even better for Scorsese fans, within 15 minutes Joe Pesci is stamping on some schmuck's head in a bar, screaming obscenities as a bewildered Robert De Niro looks on with that great quizzical expression of his.
GoodFellas Part II? Well, sort of. Scorsese insists this isn't a mob film, and you can see his point. It tells the - slightly embellished - true story of Sam 'Ace' Rothstein (De Niro), a brilliant Mid-West gambler recruited by the wiseguys to run their casino in Vegas, which he proceeds to do with ruthless efficiency. It all sours when his old buddy Nicky Santoro (Pesci in fantastic psycho mode) comes to town and starts throwing his weight around at more or less the same time as Ace makes the one big reckless gamble of his life: persuading sex-bomb hustler Ginger McKenna (Stone) to marry him. This head-strong twosome just add too many maybes into the comfortable set-up, and slowly the easy money-making machine starts to malfunction. Then the baseball bats come out.
This is De Niro's finest hour certainly since GoodFellas and maybe since The King Of Comedy. Onscreen for nearly the whole three-hour running time, he is chillingly logical about his life at first, slowly descending into panic, frustration and violence as things go wrong. He plays it perfectly from start to finish, as indeed do the entire cast. Sharon Stone is a revelation, Pesci is his usual mesmerising self, and if at times the story drags - with too much voiceover and quasi-documentary - the three of them refuse to let go of your nether regions for a second.
If the violence is even more stomach churning than in GoodFellas (check out Pesci's creative use of a vice) and if Scorsese isn't making huge strides in terms of his filmmaking lexicon, this is still a powerful, disturbing and entirely fascinating examination of a specific time and place, and of the nature of the deals we do - with our employers, with our friends, with our lovers.
Casino Royale Movie Reviews
Yes, Daniel Craig makes a superb Bond: Leaner, more taciturn, less sex-obsessed, able to be hurt in body and soul, not giving a damn if his martini is shaken or stirred. That doesn't make him the 'best' Bond, because I've long since given up playing that pointless ranking game; Sean Connery was first to plant the flag, and that's that. But Daniel Craig is bloody damned great as Bond, in a movie that creates a new reality for the character.
Movie Review Casino Royale
Year after year, attending the new Bond was like observing a ritual. There was the opening stunt sequence that served little purpose, except to lead into the titles; the title song; Miss Moneypenny; M with an assignment of great urgency to the Crown; Q with some new gadgets; an archvillain; a series of babes, some treacherous, some doomed, all frequently in stages of undress; the villain's master-plan; Bond's certain death, and a lot of chases. It could be terrific, it could be routine, but you always knew about where you were in the formula.
With 'Casino Royale,' we get to the obligatory concluding lovey-dovey on the tropical sands, and then the movie pulls a screeching U-turn and starts up again with the most sensational scene I have ever seen set in Venice, or most other places. It's a movie that keeps on giving.
This time, no Moneypenny, no Q and Judi Dench is unleashed as M, given a larger role, and allowed to seem hard-eyed and disapproving to the reckless Bond. This time, no dream of world domination, but just a bleeding-eyed rat who channels money to terrorists. This time a poker game that is interrupted by the weirdest trip to the parking lot I've ever seen. This time, no laser beam inching up on Bond's netherlands, but a nasty knotted rope actually whacking his hopes of heirs.
And this time, no Monte Carlo, but Montenegro, a fictional casino resort, where Bond checks into the 'Hotel Splendid,' which is in fact, yes, the very same Grand Hotel Pupp in Karlovy Vary where Queen Latifah had her culinary vacation in 'Last Holiday.' That gives me another opportunity to display my expertise on the Czech Republic by informing you that 'Pupp' is pronounced 'poop,' so no wonder it's the Splendid.
If you like to know where you are with a director, Casino is the movie for you. Placing The Age Of Innocence and Cape Fear to one side for a moment, here we have Scorsese returning to what he knows best, and to the people he loves.
Co-written with GoodFellas screenwriter Nicholas Pileggi, and starring the usual suspects in the form of Bobby De Niro and Joe Pesci, you also have the warm reassurance of the presence of many of GoodFellas' character actors, grizzled of visage and twitchy of trigger-finger, Scorsese's mum doing a cameo, Elaine and Saul Bass producing the opening credits, and many recognisable directorial flourishes. Even better for Scorsese fans, within 15 minutes Joe Pesci is stamping on some schmuck's head in a bar, screaming obscenities as a bewildered Robert De Niro looks on with that great quizzical expression of his.
GoodFellas Part II? Well, sort of. Scorsese insists this isn't a mob film, and you can see his point. It tells the - slightly embellished - true story of Sam 'Ace' Rothstein (De Niro), a brilliant Mid-West gambler recruited by the wiseguys to run their casino in Vegas, which he proceeds to do with ruthless efficiency. It all sours when his old buddy Nicky Santoro (Pesci in fantastic psycho mode) comes to town and starts throwing his weight around at more or less the same time as Ace makes the one big reckless gamble of his life: persuading sex-bomb hustler Ginger McKenna (Stone) to marry him. This head-strong twosome just add too many maybes into the comfortable set-up, and slowly the easy money-making machine starts to malfunction. Then the baseball bats come out.
This is De Niro's finest hour certainly since GoodFellas and maybe since The King Of Comedy. Onscreen for nearly the whole three-hour running time, he is chillingly logical about his life at first, slowly descending into panic, frustration and violence as things go wrong. He plays it perfectly from start to finish, as indeed do the entire cast. Sharon Stone is a revelation, Pesci is his usual mesmerising self, and if at times the story drags - with too much voiceover and quasi-documentary - the three of them refuse to let go of your nether regions for a second.
If the violence is even more stomach churning than in GoodFellas (check out Pesci's creative use of a vice) and if Scorsese isn't making huge strides in terms of his filmmaking lexicon, this is still a powerful, disturbing and entirely fascinating examination of a specific time and place, and of the nature of the deals we do - with our employers, with our friends, with our lovers.
Casino Royale Movie Reviews
Yes, Daniel Craig makes a superb Bond: Leaner, more taciturn, less sex-obsessed, able to be hurt in body and soul, not giving a damn if his martini is shaken or stirred. That doesn't make him the 'best' Bond, because I've long since given up playing that pointless ranking game; Sean Connery was first to plant the flag, and that's that. But Daniel Craig is bloody damned great as Bond, in a movie that creates a new reality for the character.
Movie Review Casino Royale
Year after year, attending the new Bond was like observing a ritual. There was the opening stunt sequence that served little purpose, except to lead into the titles; the title song; Miss Moneypenny; M with an assignment of great urgency to the Crown; Q with some new gadgets; an archvillain; a series of babes, some treacherous, some doomed, all frequently in stages of undress; the villain's master-plan; Bond's certain death, and a lot of chases. It could be terrific, it could be routine, but you always knew about where you were in the formula.
With 'Casino Royale,' we get to the obligatory concluding lovey-dovey on the tropical sands, and then the movie pulls a screeching U-turn and starts up again with the most sensational scene I have ever seen set in Venice, or most other places. It's a movie that keeps on giving.
This time, no Moneypenny, no Q and Judi Dench is unleashed as M, given a larger role, and allowed to seem hard-eyed and disapproving to the reckless Bond. This time, no dream of world domination, but just a bleeding-eyed rat who channels money to terrorists. This time a poker game that is interrupted by the weirdest trip to the parking lot I've ever seen. This time, no laser beam inching up on Bond's netherlands, but a nasty knotted rope actually whacking his hopes of heirs.
And this time, no Monte Carlo, but Montenegro, a fictional casino resort, where Bond checks into the 'Hotel Splendid,' which is in fact, yes, the very same Grand Hotel Pupp in Karlovy Vary where Queen Latifah had her culinary vacation in 'Last Holiday.' That gives me another opportunity to display my expertise on the Czech Republic by informing you that 'Pupp' is pronounced 'poop,' so no wonder it's the Splendid.
Casino Royale Movie Review
I never thought I would see a Bond movie where I cared, actually cared, about the people. But I care about Bond, and about Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), even though I know that (here it comes) a Martini Vesper is shaken, not stirred. Vesper Lynd, however, is definitely stirring, as she was in Bertolucci's wonderful 'The Dreamers.' Sometimes shaken, too. Vesper and James have a shower scene that answers, at last, why nobody in a Bond movie ever seems to have any real emotions.
