Ballad of a Small Player [TIFF 2025]: Formulaic script with colourful cinematography

4 min to read

Bold and colourful "Wes Andersony" visuals and a decent performance by Colin Farrell let down by a mediocre script and directing. The story, at its surface, is intriguing, if not formulaic: a high-stakes gambler goes to Macau and... gambles more (of course) in order to escape from his past debts that keep following him.

Setting up the plot in this way, you would think the director, Edward Berger, would try to avoid the obvious moral cliché — that gambling is bad and will destroy your life. But then again it's a Netflix funded movie so what did I expect? To be fair, Berger did try to spice it up with some mystical themes with the whole "ghost carnival" narrative, but the issue for me is that he didn't lean hard enough into the mystical (or symbolical). He was so in love with making beautiful scenes and shots that he forgot about the plot. Or, rather, he played it safe and pretty much went down the usual tropes of films about gambling. I don't want to spoil it (and I won't), but the last scene (before the credits) is so goddamn stupid narrative wise that it felt like Berger just didn't care about his characters. Why would Colin Farrell's character (Lord Doyle) come to his senses all of a sudden, even if it goes completely against what he stood for?

The answer, really, is simple: the plot follows a very formulaic "Netfix" narrative where it tries to satisfy everyone. But it only satisfies the common denominator and it's really afraid to take risks.

It's such a pity, because visually Macau looks gorgeous, with its rainy neon-lit streets and colourful rooms and casinos. Quite clearly Berger spent a lot of time paying attention to small details in every major shot. The way he conveys temperature and humidity through colour is admirable, but in being so obsessed with the image he stripped the plot of its meat and left us chewing on bones.

Farrell's performance is generally good, if not heavy-handed at times, and I suspect it's the director's instructions, as this actor is capable of much more subdued performances. Berger doesn't let much subtlety brew over consecutive scenes — it's Netflix after all, if you don't explain things as early as possible and don't release the tension the users will be bored and click away, lowering your "retention".

I admit, I am cynical here, but I think I have a point. The same director, film crew and cast could've done a better job if they weren't making it for Netflix, I truly believe that. It may be wishful thinking, and maybe it wouldn't have changed much, but I couldn't help but notice a few formulaic themes that I've seen in other Netflix-produced films. I did see it in the theater and it seemed like I was in the minority — most people seemed to enjoy it judging by the amount of clapping when the credits rolled.

And yet here I am, a 32 year old guy trying to still push the idea that enjoyment itself is not enough to make a film great. That is, in case the director wanted to make art, and based on the style he went for he clearly wanted to make art. But he ended up with just another entertaining Netflix movie with some artsy bits.

At the beginning of the review I mentioned that it had "Wes Andersony" visuals. Well, it does, and that's the best compliment I can give. The rest of it is quite shallow and it definitely ain't Grand Budapest Hotel.

Rating: 6/10