Wayne Kramer's debut is a very promising one. Perhaps described well as a mixture of Scorsese's historical crime commentary and Richard Kelly's surreal sense of romanticism, Kramer's style is an edgy, confrontational cinematic escapade. His deep sense of atmosphere, from the aging antiquity of the Las Vegas casino around which the story revolves, to the depressing efficiency unit of a rundown motel at which William H. Macy's classically pathetic character dwells, intensifies a lovingly derivative portrayal, complete with the unabashedly both urban and nocturnal jazz score and the scuzzy backstories. We are brought closer to this classic world of gambling, temptation, prostitution, mob control, violence, and shadiness with which we are so familiar by the informative backdrop of the story, which is the Disneyfication of Las Vegas, resisted by Mafia old-timers and imposed by condescending upstarts, to update the strip for the reality that has become the 21st century.
William H. Macy could not have been cast in a more suitable role as the nebbishy has-been title character, indebted to casino boss Alec Baldwin, in a powerhouse performance with overtures of De Niro and even Pacino, whose old-school style is so classic that years earlier he cured Macy of a gambling problem by obliterating his kneecap with a baseball bat. Macy, limping around Baldwin's casino floor jinxing hot tables with his doomed luck, can't recall the last time he had sex with a woman. Macy has all the physicality of a character like this. Despite the feisty or powerful characters given him by David Mamet, Macy so immediately inhabits the cooler of the title with the old-fashioned urban look of a down-and-out film noir character with nothing left to lose except his broken heart.
Maria Bello grasps the raw look of massive sexual experience, and the air of regret for it all to boot, with which to play the cocktail waitress who takes an interest in Macy, reigniting his unbeatable luck. There are some tough turns from here, and the violence of the story doesn't simply come from the smoking muzzles of Mafiosi but more from the hearts scorched by their ruthless handling of whatever they resent.
Including Shawn Hatosy as the selfish young jerk that's worryingly becoming a pattern in his filmography, and Paul Sorvino whose small role is harrowing, The Cooler sports a terrific cast that populates a film with a vibrant style of film-making.
William H. Macy could not have been cast in a more suitable role as the nebbishy has-been title character, indebted to casino boss Alec Baldwin, in a powerhouse performance with overtures of De Niro and even Pacino, whose old-school style is so classic that years earlier he cured Macy of a gambling problem by obliterating his kneecap with a baseball bat. Macy, limping around Baldwin's casino floor jinxing hot tables with his doomed luck, can't recall the last time he had sex with a woman. Macy has all the physicality of a character like this. Despite the feisty or powerful characters given him by David Mamet, Macy so immediately inhabits the cooler of the title with the old-fashioned urban look of a down-and-out film noir character with nothing left to lose except his broken heart.
Maria Bello grasps the raw look of massive sexual experience, and the air of regret for it all to boot, with which to play the cocktail waitress who takes an interest in Macy, reigniting his unbeatable luck. There are some tough turns from here, and the violence of the story doesn't simply come from the smoking muzzles of Mafiosi but more from the hearts scorched by their ruthless handling of whatever they resent.
Including Shawn Hatosy as the selfish young jerk that's worryingly becoming a pattern in his filmography, and Paul Sorvino whose small role is harrowing, The Cooler sports a terrific cast that populates a film with a vibrant style of film-making.