..Gary Dretzka
..Noah Forrest
..Leonard Klady
..R.J. Matson
..David Poland
..Douglas Pratt
..Ray Pride
..Michael Wilmington

..Digital Dretzka Blog ..The MCN DVD Page

LAS VEGAS -- Watching a documentary about poker with a theater full of gamblers – several of whom are featured in the film – is an experience comparable to visiting the in-laws and agreeing to watch home movies. Laugh at the wrong time, and you could end up with a box of popcorn on your head.

Almost as unsettling are the moments when everyone else in the audience is clutching their sides, roaring with laughter, and you have to ask your companion to explain the gag. At a time when it seems as if thousands of otherwise sane people are planning to quit their jobs to join the World Poker Tour, it’s unfathomable to think that some folks don’t know the difference between Texas Hold ’Em, Omaha, Stud and Crazy 8s.

I experienced several such moments during a screening of No Limit: A Search for the American Dream on the Poker Tournament Trail, which was given a special preview at the just-completed World Series of Poker. Most of the laughter, though, was being directed at the screen, where producer/player Susan Genard was trying to explain to her friend and collaborator, Timothy Rhys, how she woulda, coulda, shoulda made it to the final table … but didn’t.

Genard’s on-screen lament was so familiar to those in the crowd, and so passionately delivered, it brought the house down. Show the same scene to a room full of non-gamblers, however, and their compassion might instead be directed toward Rhys, who looked as befuddled as he was frustrated by the squandering of expense money.

How does the saying go … one man’s tragedy is another’s comedy? The scene could have been lifted directly from the exchange between Albert Brooks and Julie Hagerty in Lost in America, when, after only one day on the road, Linda Howard told her husband she had just gambled away their entire nest egg.

You got the feeling Rhys, who’s not a poker player, had been down this patch of bumpy road before, and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. Apart from being partners in Camden Pictures and editors of MovieMaker magazine, the pair had lived together for several years and have a young son, Brick, who also plays a key role in the movie. They no longer were linked romantically at the time of the shoot, but, given their continuing business association and the eight-month production schedule, there must have been times when it seemed as if they were.

When it comes to poker, Genard is the real deal. The Los Angeles native was taught how to play by her mother, who, upon hearing of her daughter’s frequent trips to Las Vegas, insisted she learn a game she might have a fair chance at winning. This was well before poker became a television and Internet sensation, and Hold ’Em became the variation of choice. Genard preferred Omaha, which is far more arcane a pastime and not nearly as camera-friendly.

Genard convinced Rhys, who splits his time between L.A. and his native Maine, to put together a crew with co-director Brian O’Hare and follow her to a half-dozen high-stakes tournaments around the country. Along the way, they would attempt to explain what made professional poker players tick, and how the game’s attraction could be seen as a metaphor for the pursuit of the American Dream.

Genard had already won a couple of tournaments, and, when not working on the Hollywood assembly line (Cool Runnings, My Cousin Vinny and gigs with CAA, Dawn Steel and Disney) frequented the card clubs in and around Los Angeles. Before the founding of Camden Pictures, she executive produced Rhys’ unreleased independent film, Men in Scoring Position.

Just hours before they were about to embark on their cinematic odyssey, the fledgling poker website that had promised to back the project decided not to launch, after all. PartyPoker.com provided some emergency seed money, although it was quickly exhausted. Genard convinced Rhys that a single tournament victory would be enough to bankroll the whole shebang, without actually explaining the odds against such an eventuality.

When production began on No Limit, Texas Hold ’Em was nowhere near as popular a game as it would become even six months later. The family of pro-poker gypsies still numbered in the dozens, not the tens of thousands who would come on board by the time it was completed. The World Poker Tour, with its lipstick cameras and weekly exposure on the Travel Channel, was still on the drawing board.

Vivacious and unabashedly effervescent, Genard’s character in any theatrical film based on her life could be played by Sandra Bullock or BeBe Neuwirth. Considering that the average male poker pro, then and now, was about as suave, tailored and comfortable around beautiful women as Ralph Kramden, it’s difficult to imagine the UCLA graduate not using her natural charms and chatty nature as weapons of mass distraction.

Even more unnerving, perhaps, for players trying desperately to focus on the task before them, was the sideshow atmosphere attendant to any documentary shoot. At times, this included a 4-year-old who missed his mommie, harried baby-sitters, the unintentionally obtrusive camera and sound crew, and Genard’s cell phone.

As Genard’s journey reached its ultimate destination, the $5,000 buy-in Omaha event at the 2004 WSOP, it became clear that poker was about to be swamped by a tidal wave of hype only a marketing visionary could predict. The branding rights to the competition had been purchased by Harrah’s -- along with the landmark Binion’s Horseshoe, where it all started – and Rhys’ cameras were trumped by those of ESPN.

Today, of course, everything from the felt on the table to the caps worn by the contestants carries one or more logos. There are competing tours, television shows, multimillion-dollar tournaments and celebrity events. Players proudly wave the colors of Internet and mainland casinos; beer and liquor companies; manufactures of “tell”-prevention sunglasses, tables, chips and automatic shufflers; distributors of teaching software and interactive games; and publishers of poke-centric books and magazines. (Genard is a member of a woman’s team sponsored by Elle magazine.). Like golfers and bowlers, poker players win bonuses from their sponsors when they advance to the TV rounds and wear clothes that display the company’s logo.

It ain’t NASCAR, where every inch of a car and driver is covered with decals, but some old-timers fear corporatization could destroy the game’s generally laid-back atmosphere and outsider appeal. When the WSOP imposes a dress code, it certainly will mark the beginning of the end.

This year’s top prize of $12 million went to tournament newcomer Jamie Gold, a onetime entertainment agent from Malibu. More than 7,800 men and women made the pilgrimage to the Rio Suites Hotel, either staking themselves or winning their way into the contest via “satellite” tournaments in casino or Internet play.

Clearly, the game no longer is dominated by a cabal of semi-legendary dare-devils and world-class characters like Doyle Brunson and the late Puggy Pearson, both of whom were interviewed for No Limit. Many of the competitors were “newbies,” in their 20s, who had honed their game on the Internet, where the action tends to be faster and every new hand teaches a valuable lesson.

Also providing testimony are such established stars and observers as Annie Duke, Bobby Baldwin, Chris "Jesus" Ferguson, Chris Moneymaker, Clonie Gowen, Daniel Negreanu, David "Devilfish" Ulliot, Howard Lederer, author James McManus, Larry Flynt, Mike Sexton, Phil Hellmuth, Scotty Nguyen and T.J. Cloutier.

No Limit will enter the DVD market in mid-September, without the advantage of a theatrical run. PartyPoker.com already is offering the DVD as an incentive for new members.

"Although we were still in conversations with distributors -- Sony Pictures Classics and Think Film -- we decided that it would make more sense financially to be out on DVD when the 2006 WSOP starts airing on television next month," Genard says. "We are only now starting discussions with foreign distributors and cable distributors. We will also likely do VOD (pay per view) in the next 4-6 months.”

It’s reasonably easy to explain why poker documentaries and Rounders knock-offs may not be easy sells. The excitement and tension of tournament play rarely has been translated into compelling cinema, if only because most of the winning hands are shockingly unimpressive. (Gold won the final WSOP hand, with a pair of queens, to his opponent’s pocket 10s.)

But, for hard-core players, two hours spent in a theater or in front of a TV are two hours away from the tables or computer screen. Using the laws of flaky logic, if you’re not playing, you’re not winning, which means you’re losing. And, no one wants to be a loser.

August 18, 2006

- Gary Dretzka

.