After a plot description, Cinema Tweets continues:

Some of you may have come across my recent review of Kathryn Bigelow’s recent release A House of Dynamite, a film I criticized for misusing the “vantage point” mechanism as a means of telling its story. Snake Eyes succeeds where A House of Dynamite fails. With Snake Eyes, throughout the second act, we go back in time and revisit the terrorist attack as it unfolds, but from a different character’s vantage point- usually as Detective Santoro interviews a new character. The difference between Bigelow’s film and De Palma’s film is we actually learn something new with each vantage point. There’s more mustard added to the story with each character’s version of events. That’s why the way in which this story is told actually works super well.

But in addition to the vantage point storytelling, we get vintage De Palma artistry. Draped & drenched in split diopters, extreme close-ups, and an unbelievable long, over-head tracking shot throughout the corridors of a hotel. The camera work here is just spectacular. Had you just played this film for me without ever telling me the name of the director, I would’ve known within minutes that this was made by Brian De Palma. His fingerprints are all over this - and I mean that in the best way possible.

Mixed in with a good story & awesome direction from De Palma is a sneaky-excellent Nicolas Cage performance. Cage has always been bombastic & over-the-top in a sort of take it or leave it manner. In this case, I’m definitely taking it because Cage fits the sleazy detective bill perfectly. Part of what I enjoy about Cage’s performance here is that his character Detective Santoro is put on his heels about halfway through the film & never totally regains traction. It brings out a different side of Cage, who appears to be in control throughout the first act of this film. I very much enjoyed the Cage- De Palma partnership.

We don’t get films like Snake Eyes anymore & it’s a damn shame.

Here's a bit more from Parker's "Renewed Revue #12" -

The comparisons to Blow Out throughout Snake Eyes are numerous and as obvious as the giant American flags that keep appearing throughout some of De Palma’s wide shots and close-ups. But enough time had passed between those projects that what once was old hat for De Palma suddenly seems new again. Working from a script De Palma co-wrote with David Koepp (who’s seeing a career renaissance at the moment thanks to his recent collaborations with Steven Soderbergh), the filmmaker utilizes the same sense of style and pacing for a late nineties sensibility and mindset where all subtlety has been thrown out the window in favour of rampant capitalism. Atlantic City, a place New Jersey native De Palma has gone on record saying he has little love for, is depicted as a gloomy, exploitative cash grab where everyone is on the take.

In addition to a solid assist from Koepp – who knows their way around a twisty narrative where spin and subterfuge are key components – De Palma gets major stylistic support from frequent collaborator Stephen H. Burum’s clever, story focused cinematography that hides clues in plain sight throughout, and legendary composer Ryûichi Sakamoto’s outstanding, perpetually slept on score. All the hallmarks of classic De Palma are on display (split screens, overhead tracking shots, canted angles, a mysterious woman who may hold the key to solving everything, played nicely by Carla Gugino), but Snake Eyes was still dismissed by many at the time for being an old dog showing they weren’t capable of new tricks.

Sure, Snake Eyes is guilty of a couple of cardinal sins. It inarguably gives away its biggest reveal far too early, and the obviously re-shot ending doesn’t send things out with a grand payoff. But everything outside of that is solidly constructed thriller material, anchored by some wonderful work by Cage. Fans who like their Cage erratic and hyperactive will adore the earlier stages of the film, but the actor balances all of this out nicely as Ricky grows wearier and more self aware over the course of the evening. The pairing of this performer with the material is impeccable.

Snake Eyes reminds us of Phantom of the Paradise.

Do you think so? In what way?

In both films there’s a physical environment as important as any character, a violent attack in broad daylight, an innocent woman who becomes involved in a fight to the death between two heroes, and videotapes that reveal a secret and whose deletion prefigures the death of the person recorded on them. At the end of Snake Eyes, when Nicolas Cage is bruised and wounded, he looks a bit like the Phantom – as if the evil in him…

…was suddenly painted on his face. That’s exactly right.

It’s Die Hard in a casino!

This week, hosts Phil and Liam are stepping into the swirling, neon-drenched chaos of Brian De Palma’s SNAKE EYES (1998) - joined by none other than Travis Woods, the highly acclaimed film writer who is literally writing the book on De Palma.

During a high-profile boxing match in Atlantic City, corrupt local detective Rick Santoro (Nicolas Cage) witnesses the assassination of the U.S. Secretary of Defense, who was being guarded by his best friend, US Navy Commander Kevin Dunne (Gary Sinise). With thousands of people trapped inside the casino, and a hurricane on the way, the building becomes a deadly pressure cooker, and as Santoro unearths a dark conspiracy, he must decide whether to take a pay off and look the other way…or risk everything to expose the truth.

What follows is a pressure-cooker thriller set almost entirely inside this one building, packed with impossibly complex tracking shots, split diopters galore, and some of the most ostentatious filmmaking flexes of De Palma’s career. We break down how Snake Eyes really is both “Die Hard in a casino” and “Die Hard 2 in a casino”, why it’s a perfect showcase for Cage’s full-throttle charisma, and how De Palma - the king of cinematic maximalism - injects pure operatic style into a film that’s basically one long unraveling conspiracy. Plus, Travis takes us deep into De Palma’s career, his recurring themes of surveillance, voyeurism, and deception, and where Snake Eyes fits amidst the great man’s remarkable legacy. So throw on your loudest suit, place your bets, and join us as we go all-in on this gloriously demented, spectacularly sleazy thriller!

Here comes the pain, baby!

De Palma's greatest thrillers take after Hitchcock in premise and execution, but they often also reveal wide-spanning political conspiracies that feel more in line with the works of Alan J. Pakula. Pakula directed a trilogy of films about political conspiracies; Klute, All the President's Men, and The Parallax View. Snake Eyes most closely echoes The Parallax View, another movie about an assassinated political figure, and a man tasked with uncovering the shadowy network of people responsible.

Snake Eyes is an interesting cat-and-mouse take on the conspiracy concept, as De Palma and David Koepp's script reveals the main perpetrator to the audience fairly early on, while keeping Cage's character in the dark. This reveal ramps up the tension of the remaining sequences, as the two characters frequently come into close contact, with Santoro unaware of the immediate danger being posed to him as he closes in on the mystery. This choice attracted some criticism at the time, with people feeling that Snake Eyes ran out of steam by the end because of the choice to give away the resolution so early. In an episode of Mark Cousins' Scene by Scene for BBC, De Palma talked about this choice, explaining that the film fundamentally is not about the reveal and instead about "how finding that out affects their relationship."

One trick De Palma uses to keep Snake Eyes fresh throughout the runtime, even after the reveal, is that the movie will cut back to scenes we already saw from Santoro's point of view, but from another perspective. Around a corner, or behind a door that was closed as Santoro walked by, we realize another character was already in place, plotting something or narrowly evading a blown cover. De Palma makes great use of recurring sequences to slowly give out more information, something he also does in Blow Out when John Travolta's character obsessively re-listens to his audio recording to piece together his own mystery.

When everything comes together in Snake Eyes, it may feel a bit too convoluted on first viewing, but De Palma's choice to lay the story out as he did makes it far easier to appreciate on repeat viewings. The film received mixed reviews at the time, but it is one of De Palma's most thrilling and entertaining efforts, reinforcing his mastery of cinematic and visually striking thrillers. Nobody makes them quite like him.