PREMIERE'S REVIEW (posted 3/28/08)

A crew of math wizards try to knock over Las Vegas in 21, a waxy, stacked-deck of a movie that invests Vegas with all the naturalism of an MTV awards show and is consistently motored by the kind of artificial pep — an easy sight gag here, an over-shot transition there — normally found in television movies and Robert Luketic films. Oh wait. Although working from the bones of a true account, chronicled in Ben Mezrich's book Bringing Down the House, 21 is largely focused on one student, Ben (Sturgess) who is both Rain Man and his good-looking slickster brother rolled into one. He's also blessed with all the necessary ingredients for success in a derivative movie plot: a mysteriously absent father, a gag-reflex for honest work and a stunning blonde on his arm who coaxes him into deeper and deeper waters for her own purposes. So who thought this was a kiddie story? There's some placid entertainment here, sure, and Kevin Spacey steals everything but the light fixtures as a swingin' math professor, but the gravity of adult pleasure is acutely missed.

Spacey is Micky, the kind of MIT superstar with enough cachet to fritter away expensive class time chatting up students about Isaac Newton's foibles. He moonlights as the captain of a card-counting club that includes Choi (Yoo), Kianna (Liza Lapira) and Jill, played by Spacey's constant foil Kate Bosworth, who should get some kudos later this year when Weinstein gets around to showing audiences her good work in The Girl in the Park. Working together, they discover a way to whittle down blackjack odds by playing as a tightly formed unit, with some always on defense while others apply their unnaturally good memories and arithmetic abilities to keeping up with the count at all times. After being seduced into the club by Jill, Ben is naturally "the best" from the word go and at one point he asks aloud what the team needs Micky for, since he doesn't play and only takes their money — a sensible question the movie has no answer to.

The real-life mathletes allegedly scattered their play at gambling houses worldwide, even sinking a riverboat or two, but pesky dramatic purposes require their celluloid counterparts to continue returning to one casino in particular — the Planet Hollywood casino! — which raises the ire of the security enforcer, Laurence Fishburne. (If you slide him a fiver, he'll get you a table next to some Boyz n the Hood memorabilia.) Early in the film, Fishburne's character is standing in front of a bank of TV monitors trying to figure out who is robbing the joint blind when his dour boss asks him to put out a cigarette, a half-hearted statement about the long-since-completed neutering of the sinner's oasis into a PG-13 Disneyworld. Weirdly, Luketic doesn't seem aware that this commentary also applies to his film. We want sharp edges, but we're given Risky Business-lite, right down to the Ivy League college official who bookends the film with a challenge to Ben to "dazzle" him with proof of real-world experience.

For most of the running time, 21 busies itself with plot-work, getting Jim into the club and into high-roller heaven — was it smart of the team members to draw attention to themselves by accepting all those comp rooms and other goodies? — and then setting up threats from both within and without that may bring the gravy train to a halt. There's not only Furious Styles and his menu of knuckle-sandwiches to consider but also Fisher (Jacob Pitts), a sore loser on the squad who used to be top dog until Ben arrived and won Micky's never-certain loyalties. It's a lot of story to absorb for all the fun the audience gets to have and Luketic's judgment is noticeably off when it comes to comedy; consider Ben's superfluous dork friend, a robotics genius whose arc is that he constantly chews with his mouth open. Hardy har. There are moments where Spacey and Bosworth have their fun in spite of the film — they both adopt Southern "characters" as disguises at one point, which is a hoot — but overall, 21 is a busted hand.

— Ryan Stewart