There’s been a few recent films that have incorporated some form of betting as a plot device, such as Adam Sandler’s basketball wagers in Uncut Gems or the intense game of Texas hold 'em in Casino Royale, but the “gambling thriller” subgenre seemed to die out in the aftermath of Rounders. Classics like The Hustler or California Split succeeded because gambling was the only type of addiction that could be feasibly depicted given the restrictions on content studios faced at the time. The lack of contemporary examples could be because gambling addiction has become accepted as a legitimate diagnosis, and not just a tool used to craft a self-destructive anti-hero.
Perhaps it was a dearth of competition among gambling stories that made Laurence Osborne’s 2014 novel The Ballad of a Small Player a surprise bestseller, but the thriller engaged with psychological questions faced by those on the other end of the table. Osborne crystallized the idea that a card game equalized all of its participants, and allowed them to exist in a void where they could occupy any societal role they wished. Osborne took this metaphor even further with the suggestion of a ghost story, but its perspective made it unclear whether any supernatural components were in its protagonist’s head. A novel that’s so reliant on interiority isn’t a great choice for an adaptation, and in the case of Ballad of a Small Player, it's destructive.
The decision to cast Colin Farrell as the degenerate, slovenly con artist Lord Doyle is an example of how the perfect choice is also the least interesting. Even before his experiences with sobriety were public, Farrell had brought an unpredictable aura of menace to his performances in a way that felt unexpected; if the emotionally vapid, hedonistic quality he brought to his role as Sonny Crockett felt deliberately subversive in Miami Vice, then his work in Ballad of a Small Player is simply predictable. The appeal of a gambling film like The Cooler is how out-of-touch an actor as flappable as William H. Macy felt on the other hand of a nasty losing streak. Farrell’s so closely associated with the underbelly of heavy drinking and fast-rising debts that Ballad of a Small Player is edgeless.
Osborne’s novel had succeeded with its limited revelations about its main character’s background, which were only disclosed when they became relevant to his current predicament. Conversely, Berger’s film is dependent on a voice-over to do the heavy lifting, and even then doesn’t mask its twists; it's painfully obvious from the first appearance by the slovenly Farrell in the underworld of Macau that he isn’t who he says he is. The plasticity of his disguise would be amusing had Ballad of a Small Player made note of the irony, but the film’s sense of humor is more juvenile. It’s apparent by the time that Farrell has gorged down a plate of exotic food that his perpetual misfortune is played for laughs.
Although Ballad of a Small Player ran in a few select theaters to qualify for awards consideration, it has all the hallmarks of a streaming release because Berger doesn’t appear to have taken many notes. His willingness to focus on such a depraved character would be impressive if Ballad of a Small Player hadn’t congealed into a more conventional redemptive story. The Rainbow Casino employee Dao Ming (Fala Chen) would be a compelling foil to Doyle because she’s used to seeing the resort’s clients run out of steam, but because this is a Netflix film, she’s charmed by the rowdy Englishman. An appearance by Tilda Swinton as an insipid private investigator would otherwise prove to be a worthwhile distraction, but her performance as the enigmatic Cynthia Blithe feels removed from a completely different film.
Berger had been on a hot streak with his German-language remake of All Quiet on the Western Front and papal thriller Conclave. In the case of All Quiet on the Western Front, Berger was able to add the visceral component that wasn’t possible for the 1930 classic; with Conclave, even the most bare-boned examination of the mechanics of the Catholic Church proved fascinating, and (by a streak of luck) relevant. Ballad of a Small Player is a case where a one-to-one translation of the material wasn’t appropriate, and Berger wasn’t up to the challenge. He’s not a bad filmmaker, but more of a hired hand than a European auteur.
Ballad of a Small Player is able to mask its hollowness because it's still a great-looking film, and has an enthralling score from Volker Bertelmann, whose previous collaboration with Berger on All Quiet on the Western Front earned him an Academy Award. Although a majority of streaming originals cut costs because they will likely be viewed as a second screen by their audiences, Ballad of a Small Player is alluring enough to deceive a passive viewer into the belief that it’s prestige.
Many of the structural issues of Ballad of a Small Player could be forgiven had the film nailed its tablework, but the world of an omnipotent casino is devoid of details. Rarely does the film spend enough time on a single game to show exactly where Doyle’s luck is shorted, and most of these potentially intriguing moments are cut off by another pretentious voice-over. The last attempt at a contemporary gambling drama was the ill-fated 2014 remake of The Gambler, which saw Mark Wahlberg in the role James Caan had made 30 years prior. As illogical and improbable as the card games in The Gambler were, they weren’t boring; in Ballad of a Small Player, they’re almost non-existent.