‘Deal’

In poker, bluffing can lead to a winning hand.

But in movies -- even poker movies -- the more you bluff, the more desperate you seem. And, as a result, the less the audience believes what's on the screen.

Need a demonstration? Look no further than "Deal," a strictly by-the-numbers poker drama that makes last year's troubled "Lucky You" look like "Citizen Kane."

No one's expecting "Deal" to deliver anything strikingly original or ground-breaking.

We've seen this story -- veteran mentors protegé, then must confront him -- countless times in a variety of settings, from dusty Old West streets to dingy pool halls.

The latter provided the locale for 1986's "The Color of Money," which revived Paul Newman's "The Hustler" character, "Fast" Eddie Felsen, so he could teach cocky Tom Cruise the tricks of his trade -- and face off against him at a climactic Atlantic City tournament.

Change the game from pool to poker (and change the setting from Atlantic City to a let's-pretend Las Vegas that's really a bunch of Louisiana casinos masquerading as the real deal) and you've pretty much got "Deal."

Or, more precisely, the plot line.

All those things that make a movie memorable -- the performances, the pacing, the visuals, the soundtrack -- are pretty much missing in action.

Except, perhaps, in the grizzled yet still graceful presence of Burt Reynolds, who gives "Deal" an emotional undercurrent it otherwise lacks.

The movie's true focus, alas, is not on Reynolds' retired gambler Tommy Vinson but on college kid Alex Stillman ("Reaper's" baby-faced Bret Harrison). A poker whiz who cleans up at an online site, Alex wins a seat at a real live tournament, where he proves -- very quickly -- that he's got a lot to learn.

The kinds of things Tommy Vinson could teach him.

Tommy hasn't played poker in 20 years -- he promised his wife (Maria Mason) he wouldn't. But there's something about this Alex kid that reminds Tommy of himself, long ago.

So the two strike a deal. Tommy will stake Alex and share his knowledge of the game; Alex will split his winnings with Tommy.

Inevitably, conflict rears its ugly head. Even more inevitably, Alex and Tommy part ways, with Tommy trying for a big comeback at the World Poker Tour championship, setting the stage for a climactic showdown.

It would be nice to report that "Deal" rises to the occasion and generates some genuine suspense as teacher and student square off to determine who's really master of the game.

It would be nice, but it also would be utterly inaccurate.

There are plenty of movies that prove entertaining despite their familiarity; "Deal" isn't one of them.

Writer-director Gil Cates Jr. and co-writer Mark Weinstock create characters so bland (and, in Alex's case, so borderline annoying) that there's really no one worth rooting for, despite the movie's high-stakes climax.

Witheringly dull dialogue and a slack sense of pace add to the torpor, while Cates tries to compensate with a restless camera style that only serves to accentuate the emptiness of the material. (To say nothing of his attempts to conceal it.)

And the more "Deal" piles on the real-life poker folks, from such players as Phil Laak and Jennifer Tilly to World Poker Tour commentators Michael Sexton and Vincent Van Patten, the phonier it all seems. (Especially when the movie alternates stock footage of the Strip with casino interiors that don't exactly resemble the eye-popping opulence of local megaresorts.)

If "Deal" has a saving grace, it's the rueful, world-weary Reynolds, who knows it's better not to oversell such second-rate goods.

He doesn't exactly save the movie. He couldn't, even if he tried.

But, every now and again, you catch a glimmer of the star he used to be. And that, in turn, fits perfectly with the character Reynolds plays: an old lion trying mightily to reclaim his king-of-the-jungle status.

Alas, it's gone forever, as his presence in a movie like "Deal" demonstrates. But, as every poker player knows, you have to play the cards you're dealt -- even when it turns out to be a bum deal.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.