Director Edward Berger is best known for his stunning remake of All Quiet on the Western Front (2022) and his box office hit Conclave (2024). Both movies qualify as well-made conventional offerings, movies dealing with battlefield horror during World War I and political intrigue within the Catholic church on the cusp of selecting a new pope.
Berger's latest, Ballad of a Small Player, represents a shift, a movie that can be viewed as an adventurous -- if not entirely successful -- spiritual journey. I'm talking about religion, but about the journey of a desperate man who -- not entirely willingly -- seeks his freedom.
The story centers on an Irishman (Colin Farrell) on the run. Having landed in Macau, Farrell's character adopts an upperclass British accent and becomes a regular at the baccarat tables. He calls himself Lord Freddie Doyle, but he’s slippery enough to slide off the screen.
Berger veers from what could have been a standard noir offering, opting instead for high-gloss glamor; he revels in Macau's neon lure, and the charged sense of hope that animates a city that has been called the Las Vegas of Asia. Ballad of a Small Player might be the most brightly lit noir ever.
Doyle’s troubles center on money, beginning with an unpaid hotel bill of $145,000 Hong Kong dollars that launches his compulsive attempt to win enough to pay off his debts, including money he stole from an elderly British woman.
A British investigator (Tilda Swinton) arrives in Macau, threatening to turn Doyle over to the authorities if he doesn’t return the money he stole. Doyle — who sweats a lot — does his best to evade her. Despite significant evidence to the contrary, he continues to believe he can win enough at baccarat to solve his problems.
Farrell sinks into the role, creating a tragic figure — a compulsive gambler who has no control over his life, but tries to convince himself that he’s master of his fate.
It's obvious to us that Doyle can't beat the odds, a point that's reinforced by an older woman (Deanie Ip) who plays against Doyle at the baccarat table. An oracle of misfortune, she immediately pegs Doyle's as a hopeless loser. At the same time, he meets Dao Ming (Fala Chen), a loan shark who becomes an increasingly mysterious ally and a pivotal figure in moving the story.
Once Berger sets the pieces in place, he turns his movie into a modern fairy tale that makes room for references to Hungry Ghosts — insatiable creatures of the afterlife — the unexplained appearance of a large sum of money, and a near-magical turnaround in Doyle’s sagging fortunes.
Working from a screenplay credited to Rowan Joffe and Lawrence Osborne, who wrote the novel on which the movie is based, Berger doesn’t bother to dot every “i” or cross every “t." He pushes the movie into a metaphoric world in which Doyle must redeem himself by paying off his debts, both financial and spiritual. At times, the story feels as if it’s unfolding in a neon-lit dreamscape.
That’s a big burden not only for Doyle but for a movie whose themes are expressed in ways many will find obscure and confusion, meaning dropped into a color-drenched mess.
I understand that point of view, but I'm also glad to see Berger, like the hero of his movie, overreach. In so doing, he sounds surprising notes and finds moments of strange resonance. I'm eager to see where he goes next.
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