CẬP NHẬT VIDEO HOT HẰNG NGÀY

"You can either have the money and the hammer or you can walk outta here. You can't have both. What do you want?"

"I just wanna get outta here."

"And don't forget to tell your friends what happens if they f*** around here. You understand?"

(Casino, 1995)

Martin Scorsese's Casino is a deservedly cult classic in the mobster genre. It's distinguished not only by top-class performances by Robert de Niro and Joe Pesci, but by its carefully considered assessment of some of the paradoxes of the Las Vegas casino strips. Scorsese shows us the two faces of Vegas: one is bright neon, glamorous, the world of showgirls, easy women, and the promise of striking it big and making a fortune. The other is to be found in the casino backrooms: stoic, plain and, above all brutal. It's for those who strike it too rich too often - the card-counters, the cheaters, those who don't pay their respects to the house and its mobster oligarchy.

This is the darker side of Las Vegas, a world ruled by thugs dressed up in designer suits who will lavish on you all the creature comforts you can imagine and take you down with a baseball bat all in the same breath. The backroom, in many ways, is not just a physical space but an ideation: a place where casino owners reveal their ruthless zealotry in doing the one thing a casino does best - make money. In the film, de Niro plays Sam Rothstein, the staid face of the casino, while Pesci plays tough guy Nicky Santoro, the type of bouncer who will put your head in a vice if you're caught skimming money from the house or cheating at a game of blackjack. They epitomize the very paradoxical partnership for the Las Vegas became so infamous.

Ultimately, the film is a personal tragedy for both of Casino's lead actors. It's also very much an oblique discussion on the grim politics of gambling and the kinds of lifestyles that accompany it. For many, the casino will still represent an ungraspable aspiration, and its ghostly patrons who play to the small hours of the morning still hold onto some faint hope somewhere down the line they will beat the house and walk away wealthy. It works for some, but for the majority it never happens, and they merely doom themselves to a life of financial servitude to the slot machines and roulette tables. Perhaps just one more bet will shift lady luck in their favor. Perhaps. A desperate man will take desperate measure to stay in the game, even if it means forfeiting his own life. Land-casinos are difficult spaces. For all intents and purposes, it's safer to play in the comfort of your own home. No bouncers, no bootleggers, no baseball bats. Just the comfort of playing in your own, at your pace.