Certain types of movie characters are impossible to relate to, mnuch less feel any sort of rooting interest for. Zero allegiance. James Caan in The Gambler aside, gambling junkie flicks are a one-way toilet flush. Even if a gambler protagonist wins a big glorious pot, you know it’s just a passing distraction because he/she has no interest in anything other than the next roll, the next card, the next horse or wheel spin. Talk about a film that hasn’t a prayer…the very definition of dramatic futility. With the exception of Leaving Las Vegss, the same terms apply to films about chronic boozers (Under The Volcano).
