House of Games
Studio: Criterion
Rated: NONE
WorkNameSort: House of Games
What is the deal with David Mamet? Why do critics roll on the floor in drooling paroxysms over his belching dialogue with its tough-guy affectations and the robotic direction he gives his mannequin actors? The first few minutes of House of Games don’t promise anything different than the usual chest-beating, but at least there’s something magnetic about Dr. Margaret Ford (Lindsay Crouse), a diamond-hard careerist in that mercilessly sexless early-’80s way. She works too hard treating her patients’ addictions, but her psychiatric practice takes an unpredictable turn when one of her patients moans that he’s deep in debt to a gambling den. For reasons she can’t explain, she ventures to the shady House of Games to confront Mike (Joe Mantegna) and ask him to forgive her patient’s debt. He agrees, but she has to do something for him. ‘Do you know what a tell is?â?� he asks. She doesn’t, and that’s the first chink in her armor.
The con men at the House of Games live for ‘tellsâ?�: the subtle, unconscious indications of what their prey is trying to hide. Margaret is fascinated by the parallel world of the confidence man and thrilled when Mike ‘ who, despite his despicable profession, is suave and tender in a way that’s worth trusting ‘ lets her in on some tricks of the trade. It’s all going well until she begs to be brought along on one job too many and suddenly realizes there’s a big difference between knowing some sleight of hand and living the life of a scoundrel.
Mamet’s best contribution to his cinematic directorial debut isn’t the film’s appropriately neo-noir look (that’s courtesy of DP Juan Ruiz AnchÃa) or the mechanized approximations of how human beings speak to each other. It’s in Margaret (played by Mamet’s then-wife Crouse), a female character with a brass-balls presence and zero-Kelvin toughness that’s unique in movies where the pretty dame is usually relegated to crying bitter tears. When this woman is scorned, her fury is cool and pragmatic ‘ and her revenge pays an amoral dividend that’s appropriately and heartlessly pleasing. A complete palette of extras includes a commentary track by Mamet and actor and con-game consultant Ricky Jay, but for best results, ignore the moribund Mamet dialogue and instead sink into the duplicitous twists of the story to experience a worthy heir to the noir throne.
This article appears in Sep 12-18, 2007.