Casino (1995)

Ever the master of the the montage and the mob movie, Martin Scorsese here gives us the raw, bloody red belly of Las Vegas casino management in the late 70s. It's basically like Goodfellas but with more sand. And like Goodfellas, it's based on truth. Here you get all the Scorsese crime film staples: brutal, unglamorous violence, an absolutely pitch-perfect classic rock soundtrack, Robert De Niro being somber and awesome, and Joe Pesci throwing out hundreds of the most finely crafted f-bombs in cinema. The whole thing runs at a blistering pace as well, which is good because even at such a brisk jog it still runs just shy of three never-dull hours. The epic length begets a story that feels even bigger; the first hour alone has enough plot to bury a half-dozen other movies and things only build, beautifully, from there. Martin Scorsese is simply the master of this genre, and once again he shows us why. There isn't a weak part, a slow moment, or a wrong cue anywhere to be found in this film. About the only way in which it fails is in not giving more of the real life stories behind the mayhem.

10 out of 10.