Rounders (2004, DVD)

Is there a version of the auteur theory for actors? If not, there should be. Novice actors like to think they could play any part, take on any role. More often than not, this has led to some very earnest flops, what you'd expect if Batman were played by Carrot Top, or if the role of Gandhi were helmed by the guy who plays Mr. Bean.

In Hollywood, the most effective actors are selling a character. They may play many parts but behind each one is a face that audiences recognize and get - even if the same actor is a lead here, support there, a hero in one film and a villain in the next. Jack Nicholson has played many roles - including drifter, MP, bogus mental case, private eye, western outlaw, alcoholic writer, border patrol, terrorist, labor leader, wolfman, Marine-Corps colonel, anger-management guru and billionaire.

But they're all Jack. The circumstances may be different. The backstory may vary. But behind all the "roles" is someone we identify the moment his character walks in.

Such is the case with Matt Damon, whose 46 films reveal a few traits that jump up and say, "Matt." For much of his career, he's been smart (Good Will Hunting), earnest (The Rainmaker), charming (The Talented Mr. Ripley), talented (The Legend of Bagger Vance), romantic (All The Pretty Horses), eager to be respected (Ocean's Eleven), an affable sidekick (Gerry, Dogma), and appropriately ambitious (Syriana).

But behind this Boy Scout image, there's a darker side. Damon likes to play troubled souls. He's the golf pro who doubts himself (Bagger Vance), the spook who doesn't like what he's become (Bourne Identity), the war hero with a secret (Courage Under Fire), the young lawyer who doesn't want to run afoul of the law but finds himself scraping bottom (Rainmaker), the genius hiding out from life (Good Will Hunting), the avenging angel with resentments of his own and a con game designed to get him back into heaven (Dogma), a wannabe who doesn't want to kill but won't go back to who he was (The Talented Mr. Ripley), the detective in special investigations who isn't all he seems (The Departed) and the cold-hearted spook whose lust for secrets and personal loyalties don't quite equate (The Good Shepherd). On the surface, Damon is the boy next door, a squeaky-clean boy scout in a room full of thieves. But scratch that surface and you'll find the quiet desperation behind the smile.

That's what makes Rounders worth watching.

Rounders is a gambling flick. As such, it's a celebration of the game. And like all gambling flicks, there are the usual allurements, flirtations, dangers and disasters. There's even a little poker trivia thrown in for good measure, so we can understand the strategies at work, all the way up to the big game. If that were all, this would be some kind of after-school special. In the hands of less talented people, Rounders would easily be the Reefer Madness of the poker film.

But it's not. And the reason it's not can be found in the faces of Mike McDermott (Damon), Lester Murphy (Edward Norton), Joey Knish (John Turturro), Teddy KGB (John Malkovich), Abe Petrovsky (Martin Landau) and Jo (Gretchen Mol). Rounders is not simply a gambling story - or a poker film. It's a film about a gambler, what it means to be a gambler and what it means to be someone whose life has been inextricably linked to a gambler.

In a lesser film, this would be about the ordinary guy who suddenly needs money and decides to get it playing poker. Even the Blues Brothers were "getting the band back together" because their orphanage was on the auction block. But for Mike McDermott (Damon), there are lots of reasons not to gamble. Mike is a law student. He's got a good thing going with Jo (Gretchen Mol). The two are law students, living together as they progress through the enviable path of future yuppie happiness. Mike is even on good terms with one of his professors, Abe Petrovsky (Landau). If anyone ever had a reason to "play it safe," that person would be Mike.

But Mike either can't or won't. Mike is a "rounder," a small-time gambler who makes the rounds at backroom games that are sometimes out of his league. The script, by David Levien and Brian Koppelman (Knockaround Guys, Runaway Jury, Walking Tall, Ocean's Thirteen) gives Mike an external reason to "get back in the game": His best friend, "Worm" (Edward Norton) is in a fix. Worm owes money to dangerous people. If Mike doesn't help him, Worm is as good as dead.

Even so, Mike has problems of his own. It isn't just the time he's going to miss, time he can't spare as a first-year law student. It's that Mike is locked in a struggle of his own. Throughout the film, Mike's gambling "habit" is treated as an addiction. Like an alcoholic or drug user, Mike keeps his gambling from Jo. He maintains a low profile, hiding his earnings and masking his whereabouts. Like more successful addicts, Mike is careful about his private adventures. He's particularly careful to make sure he doesn't go deeper than he can afford, and to make sure that whatever he does on the side, it doesn't interfere with the legitimate life he is trying to pursue.

But there are setbacks.

While Mike tries to follow the sage advice of fellow rounder, Joey Knish (John Turturro), there's always the dangle of the big money, as represented by the dour, deceptive, Teddy KGB (Malkovich). To bet big, you have to have it in reserve, which is one reason Mike doesn't rise above his station. But he dreams of the day he can, even when Joey tells him the risk's too high.

Why does someone like Mike worry about backroom poker games when he has an almost-guaranteed success ahead of him as a lawyer? With Mike's friend, Worm, it's the kind of addiction that calls attention to itself. Worm bets money he doesn't have. He takes risks with his life. He represents the lack of control that burns itself to the ground. If Mike is different, it's because he's actually trying to harness the beast. Like the title character in The Transporter, he lives according to certain self-imposed rules, rules that allow him to function in both worlds.

And now, that balance is in jeopardy.

When the only way to save Worm's life is to take on his debt, Mike enters a do-or-die world where survival depends on good judgment. But was it a good call to step in to begin with? Can Mike shed a little good luck on worm, before warm brings them both down, or are both of them going to the same place - one just a little faster than the other?

Rounders is an effective film. It's not a great film. The subject is given a treatment that errs on the side of quick thrills and tidy endings. But what this film does, between the credits, sets up some great performances - particularly from Malkovich, Landau and Turturro. If the character study remains a little light, it reflects the kind of compromise that gets movies made. Director John Dahl (The Last Seduction, Joy Ride) had to sell us a slick Friday-night opener with enough spills and chills to cast a wide net. Ironically, the film's initial opening - $8.5 million - was a tad anemic. But Dahl tells an interesting tale, one where the gambler is both adventurer and victim. Norton's performance as the friend you wish you didn't have is so powerful, you'll think you're watching Sean Penn. Happily, the film has since taken on a cult following, so much so that when you think of gambling films, this is the film that pops up, even more readily than The Color of Money.