Beneath the varnish of flashing lights and free cocktails, casinos stand on a bedrock of mathematics, engineered to slowly bleed their patrons of cash. For years mathematically inclined minds have tried to turn the tables by harnessing their knowledge of probability and game theory to exploit weaknesses in a rigged system. But it has never been possible for an individual to beat the casino. Each game offers a certain mathematical expectancy and variance; for the most part, the casino is virtually guaranteed to make a profit. For big bettors the casinos offer extravagant inducements in the form of free spectacular entertainment, luxurious accommodations, and transportation. For smaller bettors, the casinos may offer discounted rates on rooms and even food while gambling.
In a movie like Casino, the characters’ worldviews often clash with each other. Ace sees himself as a principled, old-school practitioner of a tough racket, yet he can’t help but be seduced by Ginger. Her ability to hypnotize and manipulate men is almost legendary; she can keep a guy awake for “two or three days,” he says admiringly.
At nearly three hours, Casino is one of Martin Scorsese’s longest films, but it never lags or runs out of steam. Thanks to taut narration and masterful editing, it stays a lean, mean thriller through the end. Unlike many movies that portray Vegas, it is not a love letter to the city. It is a lament for the disappearance of the mob-run era, and it looks with skepticism at what will replace it.