Casino (1995)

Released in 1995, Casino marks another towering achievement in the crime genre by director Martin Scorsese. Based on the non-fiction book Casino: Love and Honour in Las Vegas by Nicholas Pileggi (who co-wrote the screenplay with Scorsese), the film offers a blistering, operatic chronicle of greed, ambition, betrayal, and the slow decay of organised crime’s influence in Las Vegas. Often seen as a thematic sibling to Goodfellas (1990), Casino trades the backstreets of New York for the neon-drenched desert of Las Vegas, but the moral descent and violence are just as gripping—and just as tragic.

Plot Overview

Set in the 1970s and early 1980s, Casino tells the story of Sam "Ace" Rothstein (Robert De Niro), a meticulous, numbers-obsessed Jewish-American gambling expert chosen by the Chicago Outfit to run the Tangiers Casino in Las Vegas. Ace turns the casino into a wildly profitable operation, skimming millions for the mob while maintaining the illusion of legitimacy. But things begin to unravel when he brings in childhood friend Nicky Santoro (Joe Pesci), a brutal and volatile enforcer sent to protect the interests of the Outfit.

Simultaneously, Ace becomes romantically involved with Ginger McKenna (Sharon Stone), a glamorous but unstable hustler with a drug problem and lingering ties to her parasitic ex, Lester Diamond (James Woods). Their toxic relationship becomes a central element of the film’s emotional turmoil, with Ginger’s self-destruction and Ace’s desperation providing a tragic counterpoint to the bloody mob politics happening in the background.

Themes

Scorsese’s Casino is more than just a mob epic—it’s a sprawling meditation on power, illusion, and corruption. Vegas is portrayed not just as a city, but as a symbol of the American dream gone awry: a glitzy oasis built on theft, excess, and decay. The film explores how greed consumes everyone, from mobsters and gamblers to lovers and politicians. What begins as a story of control and efficiency soon spirals into a tale of chaos and downfall. The pursuit of more—more money, more control, more pleasure—ultimately destroys everyone.

There is also a tragic inevitability to the characters’ arcs, rooted in the hubris of believing they can beat a system as volatile and impersonal as Vegas. The city, like fate itself, remains indifferent to loyalty or legacy.

Performances

Robert De Niro delivers one of his most controlled and fascinating performances as Ace Rothstein. With his obsessiveness, sharp suits, and icy composure, Ace is a man who demands perfection in an environment ruled by unpredictability. De Niro plays him with precision, slowly unravelling as his personal life collapses and his empire erodes.

Joe Pesci, reuniting with De Niro and Scorsese after Goodfellas, plays Nicky Santoro with terrifying volatility. Though some critics felt the performance mirrored Tommy DeVito from Goodfellas, Santoro is darker, more deranged, and ultimately more tragic—a man consumed by his own unquenchable thirst for power and bloodshed. His descent into madness is both grotesque and mesmerising.

Sharon Stone gives a career-defining performance as Ginger. Her portrayal is raw, unglamorous, and deeply human. She captures both the seductive confidence and the vulnerability of a woman addicted to control, affection, and drugs. Stone earned a well-deserved Academy Award nomination for Best Actress for this role, which remains the finest performance of her career.

James Woods, in a smaller role, oozes sleaze as Lester Diamond, an opportunistic low-life clinging to Ginger’s emotional and financial weaknesses.

Direction and Style

Scorsese’s direction is masterful. He brings his signature energy to the film through kinetic editing (by longtime collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker), expertly choreographed tracking shots, freeze-frames, rapid montages, and omnipresent narration. The film is rich in texture, with a constant barrage of voiceover—sometimes overlapping—offering insight into the characters’ thoughts and the mechanics of the casino world.

The use of narration from both Ace and Nicky’s perspectives creates a dual-layered account of the events, lending a mythic quality to the storytelling. Scorsese’s ability to weave historical detail with personal drama gives Casino a grandeur that few crime films achieve.

Cinematography and Visuals

Shot by cinematographer Robert Richardson, Casino glows with an opulent yet harsh visual language. The garish lights of Las Vegas are captured with a mix of awe and menace. Interiors are lush with golds and reds, while scenes of violence are unflinching and abrupt. The visual excess mirrors the thematic focus on greed and collapse—everything sparkles until it explodes.

The wardrobe design, particularly for De Niro and Stone, is lavish and deliberate. Ace wears over 70 different suits, each colour-coded to match the mise-en-scène, reinforcing his obsession with control and appearance.

Music and Soundtrack

The soundtrack is quintessential Scorsese—eclectic, evocative, and perfectly timed. From the Rolling Stones (“Can’t You Hear Me Knocking” and “Gimme Shelter”) to classical works like Bach’s Passion of St. Matthew, the music guides the emotional rhythm of the film. The contrast between familiar rock tracks and sudden eruptions of violence is jarring and effective.

Violence and Realism

Casino is brutally violent, yet the violence never feels gratuitous. It’s grounded in consequence. The deaths are brutal, particularly the infamous baseball bat scene, which lingers in the viewer’s mind long after the credits roll. Scorsese does not romanticise the mob; he lays bare the brutality that underpins the glitz.

Reception and Legacy

Upon its release, Casino received strong but somewhat mixed reviews—some critics felt it was too similar to Goodfellas, while others praised its scale and ambition. Over time, its reputation has grown, now regarded as one of Scorsese’s finest works. While Goodfellas may be leaner and more propulsive, Casino is grander and more operatic, and arguably more cynical.

The film also serves as a cultural eulogy for "old Vegas"—a time before corporate America sanitised the Strip and the mob’s influence was extinguished. It captures a unique moment in American history with vivid authenticity.

Conclusion

Casino (1995) is a sprawling, violent, and tragic examination of the American dream in its most gaudy and corrupt form. With powerhouse performances, stunning visuals, and Scorsese’s razor-sharp direction, it paints a dark, glittering portrait of a world built on illusion and undone by greed. It may not offer the immediacy of Goodfellas, but its scope and depth make it one of the most ambitious crime epics in American cinema.

Rating:

An operatic and harrowing descent into sin city, Casino is Martin Scorsese at his boldest and most uncompromising. A masterwork of cinematic storytelling.