For those who like their thrillers complicated but realistic, based on strong motivations and deep-seated traumas (“the body remembers its beatings,” as the protag notes), The Card Counter is a heart-racing drama that holds the viewer in the hands of master gambler Bill Tell (Oscar Isaac) for almost two hours. It is one of writer-director Paul Schrader’s most gripping films about America, perhaps because its underlying austerity systematically reduces human lives to their most basic values. It is unlikely to go unnoticed when the awards are passed out in Venice competition, and should attract global interest on release, and not only from card players.
Set in the world of professional gambling, its depressing and claustrophobic mise-en-scene sweeps from the glittering palaces and gaming tables of Atlantic City to Vegas, while the three main characters decide whether revenging themselves for a great wrong is worth throwing away all their winnings. Schrader’s original screenplay provides the audience with a virtual education in black jack, poker and sports betting, while it uncovers the wounded psyche of a former American soldier who spent eight years in prison for human rights violations and war crimes he committed in the infamous Iraqi interrogation center of Abu Ghraib.
Just like the priest who narrates Schrader’s 2017 thriller First Reformed, The Card Counter is narrated by its protagonist Bill Tell (Isaac), who also keeps a diary about what is going on in his life. Tell (the name has been slightly altered from his pre-prison identity) describes how he found the monotonous routine of prison life to be pleasant, and he profitably spent the time on his hands learning to count playing cards. In an astounding demonstration later in the film, he shows how he can remember the place of every card in the deck at a glance. He is equally skilled at blackjack, mentally counting the value of every face-up card on the table and recalculating the odds of winning with computer-like precision. In Tell’s mind, the important thing is to establish a routine and cut down on variations as much as possible. Perhaps that is why the first thing he does when he checks into an overnight motel is to wrap every piece of furniture, including table legs, in an anonymous sheet. This time-consuming quirk is never fully explained, even in the revelatory final scenes.
Though he wins easily, he never bets very much. To keep the casinos off his back, he works “under the radar”. Tell’s anonymous life, which seems mostly about killing time, undergoes a sea change when two people suddenly turn up. La Linda (Tiffany Haddish) is an organizer who matches pro gamblers with financiers who put up the money for their bets. Winnings are split – but losses are paid by the gambler, meaning most of those who play with OPM (other people’s money) are heavily in debt.
Tell likes La Linda but he has no intention of risking his peace of mind with her professionally or personally. It’s kind of refreshing to see their hands-off relationship while mutual attraction smoulders.
In a way, it’s natural that an insider like La Linda turns up in his life. Cirk (Tye Sheridan), who lumbers in looking like a mangy sheep dog who’s just woken up, has no such excuse. But he does have a reason for seeking out Tell: his late father was in Abu Ghraib and he knows all about Tell’s trial, conviction and sentencing. He also knows that the only soldiers put on trial were those in the photographs torturing and sexually humiliating Iraqi prisoners, while their commanding officers got off scot free. One of the most sadistic of these was Maj. John Gordo (Willem Dafoe), who has recycled himself as a vendor of advanced security systems. What Cirk proposes, in his clumsy, ineffectual and rather endearing way, is for Tell to help him kidnap the major, torture and kill him.
For some reason (it is the biggest leap of faith that Schrader’s story asks of us), Tell takes a shine to the boy and decides to help him – only not in the way he wants. He invites Cirk to keep him company as he drives around the United States from casino to casino, a life of luxury in a sense, but one whose routine and shallowness Cirk quickly tires of. As Cirk, Tell and La Linda meet over and over in the golden bars of nearly identical casinos where Tell now goes for the big wins, the tension to make a change rises.
What makes this strange two-track story work is its direct confrontation of the dark heart of America. Oscar Isaac (who will also be seen in the Venice premier of Denis Villeneuve’s Dune) hits just the right note as the smooth-talking, self-limiting gambler, who grows in humanity as his backstory is gradually revealed. Though his paternal concern for Cirk remains more a narrative necessity than a believable impulse, it’s clear that the guileless, open-hearted Sheridan (like the appealing but low-key Tiffany Haddish as La Linda) are instrumental in coming to terms with his past.
Cinematographer Alexander Dynan makes use of unsparing lighting and funhouse lenses to convey the horror that was Abu Ghraib, jacked up by an inferno of heavy metal from composers Robert Levon Been and Giancarlo Vulcano. “The moral weight created by past action can never be removed,” Tell reflects, and we believe him.
Director, screenplay: Paul Schrader
Cast: Oscar Isaac, Tye Sheridan, Tiffany Haddish, Willem Dafoe
Producers: Braxton Pope, David Wulf, Lauren Mann
Cinematography: Alexander Dynan
Production design: Ashley Fenton
Costume design: Lisa Madonna
Editing: Benjamin Rodriguez, Jr.
Music: Robert Levon Been, Giancarlo Vulcano
Sound design: Dave Whitehead
Production companies: Astrakhan Film Lab, Saturn Streaming, Redline Entertainment US UK China
World sales: Hanway Films
Venue: Venice Film Festival (competition)
In English
112 minutes
