Screened at South by Southwest

AUSTIN -- Shouldn't an overwrought drama about the life-shattering effects of gambling addiction make some effort, before delivering its moral, to show why people gamble in the first place? Even back in the days when Hollywood demanded that vice must always end in tears, audiences usually had some vicarious fun before the other shoe dropped.

Not so in "Even Money," where the first scene offers an unconvincing Kim Basinger, mumbling anxiously to herself, pulling a slot machine's lever and despairing at the outcome. The film's main stab at capturing gambling's allure is a few candy-colored shots of casino action. Because many less glamorous scenes also are drenched in barely justified colored lights, one assumes that this is less a narrative device than a predilection of the cinematographer. With so little fun and such unconvincing pathos on hand, it's hard to imagine much boxoffice potential.

Like Basinger, most of the protagonists in this ensemble cast are up to their necks in something, but the script has little notion how to generate an appropriate level of drama. Forest Whitaker is in hock to his bookies so badly that he's willing to beg his beloved kid brother (a basketball star in the making) to shave points and throw games so he can win some dough back. Grant Sullivan plays one of the bookmakers in question, doing fine financially but about to lose his new girlfriend because, as bookies tend to do, he hurts people who owe him. Ray Liotta suffers indirectly, as his wife Basinger neglects him in favor of the slots.

Circling among these losers are outsiders: Kelsey Grammer, who wears a prosthetic chin the size of Nevada and has been told he's the lead gumshoe in a film noir, and Tim Roth, a gambling entrepreneur who may or may not be the elusive kingpin "Ivan." Roth chews the scenery, or rather nibbles it and licks his fingertips, in a Eurosleaze performance that is the film's most entertaining ingredient. Somewhere in there is Danny DeVito, a washed-up magician who does sleight-of-hand for tips from retirees and might just inspire Basinger to write the novel she's been pretending to work on for months.

With Dave Grusin's maple-syrup jazz chords doing their best to build tension, director Mark Rydell shows each protagonist trying to fix his or her predicament. We have a hard time identifying with their problems, as we weren't along for the fun part of the ride and it's clear from the start that their solutions will fail.

Overlong and overstuffed with cliches -- ever heard the one about the bookie who swills Pepto for his ulcer? -- the movie doesn't seem to realize how close it comes to comedy. First-time screenwriter Robert Tannen evidently has big ambitions here, hoping to wrap his Big Issue up in a "Crash"-style tapestry of interwoven plots. Suffice to say that "Crash" producer Bob Yari, whose logo also adorns "Even Money," won't be suing anybody for credit come Oscar time next year.