A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Poker Face, a hugely enjoyable new 1970s-style crime series about a woman poker player who is so brilliant that no one else will offer her a game (I hope that applies to me as well, although it may just be my terrible temperament).
I've written about historical attempts to portray poker on both the big screen and the small screen: invariably wrong in every detail, sometimes right in spirit, especially in the noblest with the exception of all literature and films about gambling, The Cincinnati Kid.
Several readers contacted us to ask why I, being a “lady finger”, wasted so many words on sarcasm about “Casino Royale” 2006 without mentioning the well-known Molly game from 2017.
Short answer: I have mixed feelings about Molly's Game.
Here's the detailed answer.
Molly's Game was written and directed by the great Aaron Sorkin based on the autobiography of Molly Bloom, who ran illegal poker games in America from 2004 to 2011, where movie stars like Ben Affleck and Leonardo DiCaprio played against rich businessmen and poker professionals. My friend Chimney Sweep loved her book. I thought the font was too small. So we were both happy to hear about the film version.
By the time it came out, I had won my two European titles and had mostly stopped playing international poker tournaments, so I was going to attend some big underground tournaments. cash games in London itself. (Tournaments are formalized knockout competitions with prizes and trophies; in cash games, you can sit and stand as you please, cutting your losses and winnings at your chosen time.)
To my delight, Molly's Game presented a familiar and well-drawn portrait of the world of high-stakes cash games: a luxurious and discreet environment, offered to fickle players capable of losing big sums; cash packages, personalized menus, fine wines, masseuses and generous lines of credit.
It was five years ago. Since then, unlicensed private gaming has flourished across the UK due to the increasing difficulty of stealthy high-money play in the formal casino environment. The Gambling Commission has pushed through a draconian set of policies under the guise of “due diligence,” under which casinos require not only passports and driver's licenses from potential gamblers, but also heavily restricted bank statements and payrolls. on cash withdrawals and deposits, causing major players to completely abandon legitimate licensed games. It doesn't mean that their money is laundered, or the proceeds of crime, or whatever is the false rationale for this whole check – it usually just means that the guy wants to make his own mistakes in private, racking up a few losses without making any formal claims. documents, share personal financial information, or initiate a large number of official records.
Molly's Game Credit: Michael Gibson
In any case, everything is fantastic for Molly's Game so far: an accurate depiction of a hidden and little-known world. Another thing that happened exactly when it came out was the first burst of energy in the #MeToo movement: the accusations against Harvey Weinstein just went public, the hashtag went viral on social media, and in Hollywood and more broadly. the world was flexing a new kind of feminist muscle. As a chimney sweep would say: “Let's have a massive debate!”
It was an exciting time to go and watch a film about a smart, ambitious, determined woman who gave up professional skiing to play illegal poker. The unsmiling neighbor who finds love when she opens her own bakery; not the brave and faithful wife of a man of action; not even a witty fat/black/Jewish best friend: a brand new, complex and unclassifiable person. I remember the trailers in the theater before Molly's Game started were for The Post (Meryl Streep plays the tough and legendary newspaper publisher Katherine Graham) and I, Tonya (Margot Robbie and Allison Janney as the controversial figure skater Tonya Harding and her terrifying mothers, both characters who manage to be unsympathetic yet sympathetic at the same time). I could hear the glass ceilings cracking under the pressure of nuances. It really felt like a moment for women in entertainment.
And then Molly Bloom got beat up. While I was enjoying an interesting performance by Jessica Chastain, healthy beauty and a multifaceted character: boom, crack, rumble, as Molly was thrown to the ground, kicked in the stomach and she lay bleeding and sobbing.
This actually happened to the real Molly Bloom, so it's an important part of her story, but did it need to be shown for so long and so clearly? In an age where it seemed like they were looking for new ways to tell women's stories, could they explain any of it with sound alone, or metaphor, or something more indirect? Will we ever get away from glossy, sexual violence?
After being beaten up, Molly on screen undressed and took a long, hot, painful shower. Is that what you would do? She was beaten in her own house. She doesn't go to safety and stay motionless and shaken on the floor. She gets up, sheds her kit and slides under the water. Let the mass debate begin.
Was it a strong and honest way of showing the truth about women's lives? I don't know. What I know for sure is that as a viewer in 2018, I was very disappointed to see the proud and thin Molly being punished and humiliated in this visceral, drawn-out, old-school style.
So this is a long answer. I prefer the Cincinnati Kid.
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