I'm what counts out here, not your [BLEEP] country clubs
or your [BLEEP] TV shows.
Not many characters in films history
have cast this long a shadow of intimidation,
both verbally and physically, as Nicky Santoro.
Through his brutality, ruthlessness, and intimidation,
he has become what our minds drift to when
we think of a Mob Enforcer.
But what exactly is it about this moment
of teetering suspense that makes him one of film's most
iconic villains?
Casino was released in 1995, directed
and co-written by Martin Scorsese,
from the book Casino, Love and Honor in Las Vegas,
by Nicholas Pileggi.
The film marked a return to the mafia genre
for Scorsese, working as a spiritual successor
to Goodfellas, only now more stylized, more aggressive,
and more overt in its ideals.
It was the story of different types of criminals gone west
to oversee the fictional Casino Tangiers for the mafia
back home-- back home being the only way
Scorsese and Pileggi were legally
allowed to refer to Chicago.
Sam, logical and calm, was to be the front-facing public persona
of Tangiers, while Nicky set himself up as the brutal arm,
keeping the operations in order through violence
and intimidation.
Well, I'm a little confused.
You're a little confused?
Maybe if I stick your [BLEEP] face
through this window over here, like, you know,
you'll get un-confused.
Give me the [BLEEP] money.
Throughout the film, we see the two balance one another,
often reacting to or working in tandem
as they navigate the criminal empire and political mire
in which they become engrossed.
But after each begins to resent the other for what
they see as bringing unwanted attention from both law
enforcement and their own mafia family,
Nicky reveals his capacity for true terror.
And it begins here in the desert.
Nicky is cunning at first, coordinating the meeting
to his advantage before he even appears.
Nicky knows Sam fears the desert,
so he takes it one step further by arranging
the meeting a few hundred yards off the main road.
Sam knows the area is littered with bodies
of men who have betrayed enforcers just
like his friend, Nicky.
Nicky also shows up later than Sam,
giving his number-crunching friend time
to wander over the holes and calculate
his own odds of survival.
This time, when I heard him say, a couple
a hundred yards down the road, I gave myself 50/50.
We see Nicky's car barrel down the desert road.
It's a shot Scorsese plays up, letting the camera float,
almost untethered, as it tries to keep up with the car.
The car itself seems unhinged-- never steady,
constantly wavering to the left and right over the dirt road.
Scorsese then drives the point home
by letting Sam's sunglasses fill the entire frame, Nicky's car
speeding across the lenses.
This is all Sam can see, the oncoming colossus.
While he kept Goodfellas' camera more voyeuristic,
Scorsese wants his voice heard here.
And he screams it through every frame.
As the car screeches to a halt, drums
start to smother the symphonic score.
Then, Nicky explodes from the driver's side,
and even the camera pulls back, almost afraid as well.
We've seen Nicky move quickly before,
full of purpose and intent, but not towards Sam.
Not like this.
Scorsese has called Casino a movie
without a plot-- full of action and story,
but no plot whatsoever.
It would be easy to point out the various moments of action--
heads crushed in vices, necks stabbed with pens,
and one of film's most infamous car bombs.
But here, we are given a different type
of action scene--
a visceral verbal assault.
What makes Nicky so alarming here
is his immediate command of the conversation.
He knows Sam's greatest strength is his ability
to talk himself out of any situation,
so Nicky leaves him no time to think on his feet or adapt.
He escalates the meeting to a shouting match
before any sort of formalities or questioning.
Even in the wide breadth of the desert vistas,
their shouting becomes tight and cramped
like a knife fight in a phone booth.
The cool and collected Sam tries his hardest
to steer the conversation, but Nicky is
a profanity-laden steamroller.
And when Sam attempts to explain,
he's forcefully interrupted and silenced by his partner.
Back up.
Do you remember what I told you?
Back up a [BLEEP] minute here, one minute.
I asked you?
When the [BLEEP] did I ever ask you if I could come out here?
While it would be easy to assume their friendship would keep Sam
safe, it is exactly that relationship
that adds to the intensity of the scene.
Sam knows Nicky.
He has seen firsthand the unpredictability
of the enforcer.
As Nicky whales on, we see Sam slightly retreat,
desperate to find any tactic to hold his ground.
Scorsese knows to let his actors drive this moment.
He dials back any sort of shot that
could distract from the powerhouse performances
of Pesci and De Niro.
You get the genuine feelings of anger, shock, and desperation
of every moment.
As the desert argument wears on, we
can't help but think back to our time with Nicky.
He has proven again and again to be
unpredictable in his behavior and violence.
There's a scene early on in the movie
where a bar patron accosts Sam for seemingly no reason.
Sam himself states that while he was questioning
why the guy acted that way--
Nicky just hit him.
In fact, Nicky did more than just hit.
Him he repeatedly stabbed the man in the throat with a pen
until they were wheezing on the floor.
All right.
We're going to take a quick break to talk about a game that
features some of the most iconic bosses and boss fights,
and that's Raid Shadow Legends.
Use my QR code, or links below, to download Raid yourself
to your mobile phone or PC.
So since Nicky Santoro is the ultimate mob boss,
and because Raid is celebrating their three-year anniversary,
we're running down our top three hardest bosses in the game.
So in no particular order--
Bommal the Dreadhorn, simply because he will absolutely
set you on fire.
If you don't blow him up, he will definitely blow you up.
Then, we're taking the Occult Brawler
because he is one of, if not the best, poisoner out there.
And finally, we're going with Steelskull, largely
for the same reason as the Occult Brawler,
but it just looks so badass as well.
Raid recently let us in on some really cool news.
Later this month, they're giving the ultimate champion
the upgrade he deserves.
Death Knight is finally becoming a legendary champion.
Raid's got a ton of special events
this month with some great rewards, including
a limited edition artifact set.
They're also bringing out some awesome-looking champion
skins for the incredible Madame Serris.
So if you're not playing Raid Shadow Legends yet,
now is a great time to get started.
Use my link, or scan the QR code right here,
and get a free starter pack worth almost $30,
a free champion, Aina, and also this cool in-game loot.
And now, back to the video.
Even when he gets what he wants, it's
impossible to predict what his response might be.
Pesci walks this line so well.
He embodies this threat.
His posture, his mannerisms-- everything
about the performance is deftly untethered, yet
somehow perfectly contained.
The Enforcer has long since come to grips with the idea
that this is who he is--
a criminal, and a violent one at that.
Being a made man, Nicky understands the inevitability
of his life.
It's possible he may end up in prison or dead,
but it's an outcome that neither concerns or fazes him.
There is no greater shame to a man like Nicky
than being made to look weak in front of his bosses.
And at this moment, standing over the hidden graves
of the desert, he feels Sam is making him look weak.
Nicky berates Sam repeatedly for his appearances on a local TV
show.
While Sam sees it as making himself
a known figure in the public and political eye,
Nicky views it as drawing attention to them both.
Protagonists and antagonists are generally diametrically opposed
in their wants and needs.
It's simple storytelling.
To Nicky, Sam's self-congratulatory public
persona runs against stream to how
he views the mafia's existence, something the public eye can
only make out in silhouette if they squint just right.
But Sam craves the spotlight, thinking
he can manipulate and control every situation to his wants.
And as Nicky continuously barrels over his friend,
we catch the first glimpse that this situation
is beyond Sam's control.
What the [BLEEP] are you doing on TV anyhow?
You know I get calls from back home every [BLEEP] day?
They think you went bat-[BLEEP]!
Part of what makes Nicky so terrifying
is Pesci's performance.
He embodies the demeanor, attitude,
and even physical appearance of his real-life counterpart--
Anthony, the Ant, Spilotro-- so much so
that when Pesci first appeared on set at the casino,
several dealers working as extra's
almost fainted at the sight of him in character.
They were noted as saying it was almost too much--
his likeness, his posture, his swagger.
Those dealers knew where the demeanor took Spilotro.
Much like Nicky, the Ant ran afoul of his gang
and was murdered in the mid '80s.
All of the meanness and disregard
is perfectly captured as Nicky walks away
from Sam, spitting profanity and threats
in one more instance of having the last word.
Nicky speeds away, leaving a cloud of dust to envelop Sam.
It's a nice touch and a perfect way to book-end a scene
by Scorsese-- opening the scene with Sam
being terrified of the bodies riddled on the desert
floor, covered by layers of dirt,
and ending with Sam covered in dirt in plain sight.
Nicky terrifies us to this day as an unbridled id set loose
in the deserts of Las Vegas.
And Pesci's performance is spot on,
partly because we've seen him take turns like this before.
As Tommy Devito in Goodfellas, Pesci still
maintained an unruly chaos, carefully maintained,
steadfast acting.
How the [BLEEP] am I Funny What the [BLEEP] is
so funny about me?
Tell me.
Tell me what's funny.
Even though Nicky is often overshadowed by Devito,
Casino really is where Pesci dialed-in
the idea of a monster in a beautiful suit.
Nicky's character shows us what happens
when our idea of a mobster becomes reality.
The truth is nobody is safe--
not the family, not the best friend, not even themselves.
Everything is at the whim of pure unpredictability
with a penchant for violence.
So what do you think?
Did Nicky Santoro inform or change
how you view made-men in the mafia in general?
How does he line up in Pesci's long career
of unhinged characters?
Let us in the comments below.
And as always, thank you for watching.
[MUSIC PLAYING]