Last Updated on September 17, 2025
PLOT: A chronic gambler (Colin Farrell), posing as an English Lord, finds himself in Macau with the law closing in and his debts piling up, all while trying to convince himself he’s just one big score away from making good.
REVIEW: At one point in Edward Berger’s The Ballad of a Small Player, our anti-hero, Lord Doyle (Colin Farrell), desperately tries to scrounge up some money to hit the casino. He approaches another expatriate gambler (Alex Jennings, The Crown), who owes him money. But the smooth-talking con man not only refuses to pay him, he also sticks Doyle with a dinner check worth thousands—though not before advising him to find a way to make himself immune to shame. The idea, of course, is that if you no longer feel shame, your conscience will never bother you.
The central premise of Berger’s film, however, is that Lord Doyle—as reprehensible as he is, being a thief and a liar—is far from immune to shame. It’s eating him alive. The film follows a week in his life as the fiction he’s been peddling about his aristocratic heritage comes crashing down. Doyle racks up hundreds of thousands of dollars in credit in Macau simply because people believe his façade: the plummy accent, pencil-thin mustache, and yes, even the ascot.
It’s a terrific role for Farrell to sink his teeth into. He’s equally adept at selling Doyle’s smooth-talking calm and the sweaty desperation that creeps in when he realizes he has nowhere left to run. While some may be surprised that Berger, after back-to-back epics like his brilliant All Quiet on the Western Front remake and Conclave, would pivot to a low-key character drama, thematically it’s not such a stretch. Conclave also revolved around men grappling with their consciences. In that film, the conscience won out—here, not so much.
Farrell delivers a tour-de-force performance, especially in the tense Baccarat sequences (a game he notes has the best odds for players). The movie does a good job explaining the simple mechanics so we can follow Doyle’s spiraling misfortune. He’s ably supported by Chinese film star Fala Chen (Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings), who plays a loan shark drawn into Doyle’s orbit, just as desperate in her own way. Their relationship forms the heart of the story. Meanwhile, two Hong Kong legends, Deanie Ip and Anthony Wong, steal scenes as Macau residents Doyle tries to con—only to find himself outwitted. It’s bittersweet to see them on screen, as both have been blacklisted from Mainland Chinese productions due to their pro-democracy stances. These are giants of cinema forced to find most of their work abroad.
Like Berger’s other films, Ballad of a Small Player is stunning to look at. James Friend’s dazzling cinematography pays homage to Christopher Doyle, while Volker Bertelmann’s score is deliberately over-the-top, mirroring the grandeur and excess of Macau, the “Las Vegas of Asia.” Tilda Swinton also pops up in a small but potent role as an investigator on Doyle’s trail, a figure insufferably honest from his perspective.
While not as straightforward as Conclave, this film dips into surrealism and ends on a note that’s open to interpretation (though the ultimate resolution is subtly telegraphed early on). The Ballad of a Small Player is darkly humorous, richly atmospheric, and highly entertaining. It may be a minor entry in Berger’s growing filmography, but it feels destined to build a cult following—especially if he continues his ascent as one of today’s most important filmmakers.
