The Gambler Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.0
Video		3.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		0.0
Overall		3.0

The Gambler Blu-ray Movie Review

If you're gonna play the game, boy, you gotta learn to play it right.

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater November 12, 2013

There are two types of Kenny Rogers fans: those who have a genuine, abiding love for the country legend and his easy-listening music, and those who— perhaps raised on Will Sasso's MADtv impersonation—hold the singer in the same kind of ironic hipster esteem lately given to Hall & Oates, Journey, and other "adult-contemporary" stars of the 1970s. Both sets will find something to love in The Gambler, a 1980 made-for-TV western based on Rogers' earworm song of the same name and starring the gloriously bearded one himself. For the sentimental, it gently strums the heartstrings, provides some low-stakes action, and offers a nostalgic route back to simpler TV entertainments; for the jaded—and, let's face it, the younger—it's worthy of a laugh, stuffed with hokey emotions, simplistic characters, and semi-intentional cornball comedy. Either way—and I'm trying to be as objective as possible here—The Gambler is better than it has any right to be considering its low-budget, non-theatrical origins on NBC. It even became something of a hit in its day, picking up two Emmy nominations and generating four sequels over fifteen years. It still has its fans, and they'll be pleased with Timeless Media's faithful new Blu-ray edition, which may be a precursor to the appearance of the entire series in high definition. Those discovering the movie here for the first time, of course, might love it for an entirely different reason—as a vehicle for Mystery Science Theater 3000-style snark.

Roger's country chart-topping1978 song, written by Don Schlitz, is the story of a down-on-his-luck young man who gets a life/poker lesson from a stranger on a train, an elder gambler who teaches him, "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run." (Also, "You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table," because "there'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.") The movie, directed by Dick Lowry, fleshes out these two characters and puts them in a dramatic context.

Rogers plays Wild West-wide famous gambler Brady Hawkes, an aging poker fiend who wields a cane and—when necessary—a two-shot derringer. When the film opens, he limps into an El Paso train station where he witnesses hotshot young buck Billy Montana (Bruce Boxleitner) get into a bit of trouble with a pair of card sharks who don't take kindly to being schooled in their own game. Hawkes saves the kid's ass, and on the long train ride to Yuma he becomes something of a mentor to the grinning, cocksure Montana, who clearly doesn't know when to fold 'em. Montana is heading to San Francisco for an international poker tournament, while Hawkes has a more personal destination. He's recently received a letter from Jeremiah (Ronnie Scribner), the son he never knew he had, about how him and his ma—Hawkes' long-lost love Eliza (Christine Belford)—are living under the thumb of the abusive casino owner Rufe Bennett (Clu Gulager). Hawkes is determined to set things right, and Montana volunteers to give him a hand, all culminating in a showdown that reuses the old "how many shots did he fire?" wagering from Dirty Harry.

But first, we have a series of episodic incidents aboard the train to give the characters something to do before arriving in Yuma. Hawkes once again comes to the rescue of Montana, who hops off during an hour-long stop at a one-horse town and finds himself trapped in a saloon with a gang of knife- swinging, gap-toothed lunatics. At one point, Hawkes points his gun at one of the maniacs, a hairy troll of a man, and issues forth the closest the film comes to a one-liner: "That's an ugly beard. Would you like me to part it for you real neatly with this here derringer?"

The new buds also help fellow passenger Jennie Reed (Lee Purcell)—a prostitute-turned-honest woman making her way home from finishing school—as she fends off the seamy advances of railroad magnate Arthur Stobridge (Harold Gould), a former john who recognizes her and wants another go, inviting her up to his first-class compartment. To protect her newfound virtue, Hawkes and Montana play a few hands of five card stud against Stobridge's own personal poker player. The scene suffers a little from what we might now call the Casino Royale problem—that is, how to make a card game exciting or dramatically meaningful on screen—but it gets by on Kenny Rogers' laid-back confidence. He's really not much of an actor, but you can't help but like him anyway in this role. His character is soft-spoken and good-natured. Wise. Avuncular. Charming. One card turn ahead of everyone else.

The movie as a whole is one you tend to like in spite of itself. It's cheaply made, with limited sets and clumsily choreographed action. The acting veers into camp. The storyline with Jeremiah and Eliza gets mushier than milk-sopped cornbread. There's really no aspect of the production—aside, perhaps, from the decent cinematography—that rises above what you expect from a 1980s made-for-TV movie. And yet, The Gambler is weirdly enjoyable. The characters are dumb, but they're fun. The writing is guileless. The performances have a loveably exaggerated community theater vibe. You can choose to take the movie as it is—a goofball and occasionally cloying low-budget western—or you can entertain yourself by laughing at how naive and almost quaint The Gambler seems today. Either way, there's reason enough for the movie to continue to be seen.

The Gambler Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

What's so great about The Gambler on Blu-ray is that, for the first time, we can see it with better clarity than 1980s TV sets could allow. (And in widescreen 1.78:1, as opposed to the "full-frame" 1.33:1 classic television ratio.) Timeless Media's 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer of the film—which was shot on 35mm—looks great if you can look past some occasional print damage in the form of light scratches and specks. The presentation is essentially "as-is," but I doubt anyone would've expected a minor made-for-TV hit to get some sort of exhaustive restoration. On the plus side, the picture hasn't been tampered with in any negative ways either; film grain is still visible, and there are no signs of edge enhancement or boosting of any kind. Neither are there any blatant compression issues. Clarity is somewhat variable, but the level of newfound detail is quite impressive in many scenes. (See the texture of Montana's corduroy coat, for instance.) Color is also natural and vibrant here, with good contrast. Not bad at all.

The Gambler Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The back of the Blu-ray case says the audio is in Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo, but you'll be pleased to know the disc actually contains a DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 track. Whether the two would be substantively different is hard to say, but a lossless option is always the better bet. The mix, not surprisingly, is fairly spartan—this is a made-for-TV movie we're talking about—but the sporadic effects function as needed and the dialogue is always clear and easy to understand. The score, which contains numerous variations on the melody of "The Gambler," also sounds decently full and lively. Nothing fancy here, but the mix does what it needs to do. And, unlike the picture, there's no age-related damage—no obvious pops, hisses, or crackles. The only real shortcoming here is that there are no subtitle options for those who might need or want them.

The Gambler Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

Unfortunately, there's not a single supplement on the disc. The only option on the top menu is "Play Movie." I would've loved to have seen some vintage TV promos advertising the film's April 8th, 1980 premiere on NBC.

The Gambler Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

I wager The Gambler—if you've never seen it—is a mite better than you probably expect it to be. Kenny Rogers is no Brando, but he's well-suited for the role of legendary poker player Brady Hawkes, who—in all situations—seems to know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em, when to walk away, and when to run. (Or hobble, anyway. He's got a limp.) The made-for-TV movie was successful enough to spawn four sequels, and hopefully we'll see those sooner rather than later. Timeless Media's Blu-ray release may be bare-boned, but it does features a decent high definition transfer and—despite what the back of the case says—a lossless audio track. Recommended for Kenny Rogers fans of all stripes.