Ballad of a Small Player
2025
Since the huge success of his excellent All Quiet on the Western Front, director Edward Berger (make sure to read that with your best German accent) has really been pumping out films. Last year, his not-great drama Conclave was the closest competition Anora had at the Oscars. Now, he’s already released another: the “dark comedy” (not sure that would be my description), Ballad of a Small Player, starring Colin Farrell, Fala Chen, and Tilda Swinton.
Ballad is a drama about gambling addiction set in the surreal wonderland of Macau. Farrell’s “Lord Doyle” (you didn’t think that was anything but an alias, I hope) is a lower-middle-class guy who reinvented himself abroad as smooth casino aristocracy. He is a pitiful gambler and a truly pitiable addict (gambling is only his uppermost vice). Told in queasy close-ups and neon nightmares set to another great Volker Bertelmann score, Ballad of a Small Player is a beautiful film that I could never fully predict. Can this man be redeemed? Yes. But does he want to be? It kept me guessing.
Farrell is (as always) fantastic as a sweaty, palpating hack in loud clothes and an ascot who truly believes that probability owes him a big break. (That’s not how probability works, people.) This kind of antic and drowning character is a challenge to play, but he does it perfectly. (Swinton adds another socially maladroit normie to her credits.) And, speaking of credits, the closing credits are superb! Definitely watch them!
My only beef is the title. Yes, that’s the source novel’s title, but we needn’t be tied to that. This film should have been called The Hungry Ghosts. Perhaps it was vetoed due to potential audience genre confusion. The film’s timeline corresponds to the Chinese Festival of the Hungry Ghosts, during which restless spirits are appeased with burnt offerings. These ghosts, we are told, have huge mouths and small throats. And just those two facts should be enough to prove my case. If you need another reason to change the title in your head, gwei-lo—a Cantonese term for a foreigner that is used to refer to Lord Doyle often—translates as “ghost man.” (The pale Westerners spawned the phrase long ago.)
I really expected very little from this movie…largely, I think, from the title. But it is a hip, haunting character study of lost souls adrift in an artificial limbo. Once again (see: Frankenstein), this film should be seen on a big screen, but instead, it’s on Netflix. The race of excellent 2025 films is well underway, and this ranks right up there. Another new Netflix release I’m excited to see is Nouvelle Vague. Stay tuned!