Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		4.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		1.5
Overall		3.5

Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie Review

A safe bet for an entertaining evening in.

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater April 4, 2011

Lobbyist, noun: 1.) A person who tries to influence legislation on behalf of a special interest. 2.) A person who tries to influence public officials to take a desired action.

You could also add professional schmoozer as a third definition, although there are numerous other less-kind terms that could be employed as well. Nobody seems to like lobbyists—except, well, the industries and special interests for which they’re lobbying—but Washington is still run by these brown-nosing political middlemen. In the mid 2000s, super-lobbyist Jack Abramoff did little to help his profession’s already-tarnished reputation, defrauding clients and illegally peddling influence, all while living a lifestyle that “lavish” would only begin to describe. Abramoff became the personification of all crooked lobbying practices, and when he repeatedly pled the fifth amendment at various hearings, trials, and inquests, he was vilified as a symbol of all that is wrong with the beltway-insider attitude. Was he guilty? Absolutely. He’s since admitted as much. But what about all the politicians who benefited from Abramoff’s illicit lobbying endeavors and later, in the wake of his numerous scandals, claimed to have never known him? What are they guilty of?

Kevin Spacey as Jack Abramoff

That’s the question ultimately posed in Casino Jack—a semi-comic, fictionalized but mostly faithful retelling of Abramoff’s grandiose and well- publicized downfall. For most of the movie, however, the focus is on Jack himself, on his oversized personality and extreme outward confidence. The film begins with Abramoff—played brilliantly by Kevin Spacey—delivering one of the best in-the-mirror monologues since DeNiro asked “You talkin’ to me?” in Taxi Driver. He’s pumping himself up as he brushes his teeth, and his self-aggrandizing speech—punctuated by accusatory jabs toward the mirror with his toothbrush—ends with, “I’m Jack Abramoff, and oh yeah, I work out every day.” Clearly, vanity and arrogance have a part to play in his undoing. The Washington insider advocacy trade runs on hush-hush, semi-legal wheelings and dealings, but the Abramoff that Spacey presents is both less discrete and more ballsy than his fellow lobbyists.

At the height of his authority and wealth Abramoff makes a big show of wining and dining the elite, starting a Hebrew school, opening restaurants on K Street—a Georgetown avenue crowded with lobbying firms—and generally trying to sustain the impression that he’s a major persuasion player in the Washington scene. “Next to God, faith, and country,” he says, “nothing is more important than influence.” He comes by this credo genuinely; we never get the sense that Abramoff doubts for a second the inherent rightness and importance of his actions. He’s a deeply religious, practicing Jew, a family man, and a provider, but he’s blinded by the desire to be seen as a one-man political powerhouse. Abramoff frequently lapses into celebrity impersonations—DeNiro, Brando in The Godfather, Ronald Reagan—and even in this trait we see a man who wants desperately to have the persuasive power of his idols. Some critics have opined that Casino Jack doesn’t tell us jack about Jack—the man and his motivations—but I feel the opposite. No, the film never reaches deep into Abramoff’s past, looking for turning point events that somehow serve to explain his behavior—a gimmick far too many biopics rely on—but it does say a lot about how ambition can nurture delusion.

The film stays rooted in the events of the years leading up to Abramoff’s demise, starting with his trip with Congressman Tom DeLay (Spencer Garrett) to the Mariana Islands, which were paying Abramoff’s firm millions of dollars to help the territory remain exempt from U.S. labor laws. From here, Casino Jack goes on to give us the inside scoop on two—and there were more—of Abramoff’s biggest scandals, both involving gambling. (Hence the film’s title.) One plot line involves the lobbyist swindling a Native American tribe he’d been hired to help in their efforts to start a new casino. While he does lobby on their behalf, Abramoff also skims some of their funds off the top, using the money to finance his restaurants and start-up Hebrew school. During meetings he panders to the tribal leaders—played by Eric Schweig and the always-reliable Graham Greene—but he refers to them as “troglodytes” in private conversations with his right hand man, Michael Scanlon (Barry Pepper), a philandering materialist whose infidelities inadvertently set off a falling domino chain leading to Abramoff’s ruin. But before that happens, the master-and-protégé duo—along with Adam Kidan (Jon Lovitz), a greasy, mob-connected mattress salesman—get in hot water when they embark on shady business dealings with “Gus” Boulis (Daniel Kash), the owner of a fleet of skuzzy floating cruise ship casinos. Without giving too much away, I’ll say this: someone ends up getting stabbed repeatedly in the face with a ballpoint pen, in a sequence that’s somehow both harrowing and hilarious.

This is one scene that exemplifies the complaint that has most often been lodged against Casino Jack—that the film is wildly uneven, too jaunty to make any serious political points, and not quite savage enough to be a satire. Once again, I’m going to disagree. Director George Hickenlooper—who sadly died from an accidental prescription drug overdose two months before the film’s premiere—seems to understand the essential absurdity of Abramoff’s actions, personality, and, perhaps most of all, his environment. With the help of composer Jonathan Goldsmith’s playful, wink-wink score, Hickenlooper keeps the tone light and the pacing quick, emphasizing how surreally ridiculous Washington can be at its worst. Sure, there’s some hyperbole here for comic effect—like when one of Abramoff’s underlings socks a hemophiliac Washington Post reporter in the nose, sending blood spurting down the poor scribe’s shirt—but most of the time Hickenlooper and screenwriter Norman Snider are using comedy to underscore some terrifying truths about just how corrupt the entire system is. This culminates in an alternate universe version of Abramoff’s trial in which he does not plead the fifth, but instead stands up and points out the hypocrisy of those trying to put him behind bars, including quite a few politicians who had no problems accepted the lobbyist’s bribes, gifts, and dirty money in the past. The point seems to be that no one in Washington is entirely innocent, not when cold hard cash can buy favors and votes. Look out for Karl Rove (David Fraser), a cleverly executed John McCain cameo, and a dead-on George W. Bush impersonation.

Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Casino Jack scores high on Blu-ray with a digital-to-digital 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer that's crisp and colorful. The film was shot using the Red One camera, which, in the hands of a good DP, provides a very cinematic, film-like digital image. Clarity is impeccable throughout—cinematographer Adam Swica clearly used sharp lenses—and you'll be able to discern every detail of the actors' faces and clothing, from Kevin Spacey's tiniest facial features to the texture of Graham Greene's leather vest. No edge enhancement necessary. Even more impressive, the film has been given a rich, warm color grading that accentuates the film's sunny disposition. Vivid green grass and bright blue skies are in abundance. Skin tones are pleasingly bronzed, blacks are sufficiently deep—although there are few scenes where they creep up into dark grayish territory—and contrast is nice and tight. Digital noise is absent in all but the darkest scenes, and even though the film sits on a 25 GB disc—not a dual-layer 50 GB platter—there are no errant compression artifacts. I really can't imagine the film looking much better than it does here.

Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Complementing the image is a rich DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track. Yes, this is a political drama/comedy, so you shouldn't expect any action movie theatrics, but all things considered, this mix has plenty of heft. The first thing you'll notice is Jonathan Goldsmith's sometimes cha cha- influenced score, which frequently fills all 5.1 channels, giving the individual instruments lots of expressive space. The music sounds lively and full- bodied, with defined lows and clean, never peaky highs. When the somewhat ironic music isn't dominating the mix, you'll often hear quiet but convincing ambience, like Washington street noises, the clatter and ka-ching of casino clamor, and the combo of wind and jet engine roar that accompanies the characters as they try to have a conversation on an airport tarmac. There are even a few effective cross-channel movements. Unless it's intentional —like that scene on the runway—dialogue never has to compete with the effects, sounding clear and intelligible throughout. If needed, English SDH and Spanish subtitles are available in easy to read white lettering.

Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Casino Jack - A Director's Photo Diary (1080): Here you'll find a series of on-set stills, accompanied by thoughtful, explanatory text from director George Hickenlooper. You can select a slideshow mode or click through the images yourself.
• Gag Reel (SD, 8:25): Your usual assortment of a slip-ups, botched lines, alternate improvised takes, and a laugh-out-loud moments.
• Deleted Scenes (SD, 9:04): A smattering of short deleted scenes, including a longer version of the opening tooth brushing monologue.

Casino Jack Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Casino Jack may not have the scope of Oliver Stone's W., the sharp-barbed, Dr. Strangelove-esque satire of In the Loop, or the sheer informative breadth of Alex Gibney's fantastic documentary, Casino Jack and the United States of Money, but it has its share of political insightfulness and it's a fitting biopic for Jack Abramoff's larger-than-life personality. I found it entertaining and definitely worth a watch, largely because Kevin Spacey and Barry Pepper were simply perfect for their roles. 20th Century Fox's Blu-ray is short on special features, but otherwise this disc is well-endowed, with a crisp high definition transfer and a solid lossless audio track. Recommended for political comedy fans, compulsive biopic watchers, and followers of real-life white-collar crime.