"Listen, here's the thing. If you can't spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker." Substitute "television" for "table" in this memorable quote from the poker movie "Rounders," and you pretty much have the scenario for anyone who watches ESPN's new poker series, "Tilt."
After months of hype from the Worldwide Leader in Sports, "Tilt" premiered two weeks ago in an attempt to capitalize on the exponential popularity of poker, specifically No Limit Texas Hold'em. Created by Brian Koppleman and David Levien, the geniuses behind "Rounders," "Tilt" fails miserably as a show about high-stakes poker and succeeds about as frequently as a gut-shot straight draw.
For some bizarre reason, the show's creators chose to avoid writing a show about poker. Make no mistake, there's enough chip shuffling and card dealing to make you want to grab a Rum and Coke from the nearest scantily clad waitress. Nevertheless, just because a show has the makings of a poker show doesn't make it so. After all, it's not as if "Baywatch" was really about being a lifeguard.
"Tilt" is more about the seedy underworld of Vegas, which could make an entertaining show, except for the fact that Sin City is currently being rammed down television viewers' throats with NBC's "Las Vegas," the unwatchable Rob Lowe vehicle "Dr. Vegas," and the Travel Channel currently serving in the capacity as unofficial public relations outlets for this poker capital of America.
Instead of actual poker, the show centers on the machinations of four rising poker stars and their attempts to take down the Matador (Michael Madsen), a card shark with a scheming side of his own. Apparently, the Matador (a.k.a. Don Everest) has teamed up with a crooked casino manager and an assortment of other rounders at the fictional Colorado Casino. Through a series of elaborate twitches and hand signals, the conniving players take down unsuspecting marks for financial gain.
Apart from Madsen, the cast is a roster full of attractive nobodies. There's the slick Eddie, played with perfect smarminess by Eddie Cibrian, who has caught the eye of the Matador and is working in his cartel. Taking the role of begrudging business partner, Clark (Todd Williams) is a soulless, brooding poker player who will never fully trust his team. The third wheel on this tricycle of horrendous acting is Kristin Lehman as the one-named blonde, Miami.
The trio was brought together by an old Vegas figurehead who ESPN has neglected to credit- probably because he isn't a sex symbol. Regardless, all of them were at one time or another cheated by the Matador. And now they are planning their revenge by playing bad poker in seedy Las Vegas nightclubs.
This is perhaps the greatest disappointment of "Tilt:" the bad poker play. When supposed "professionals" make moves that even a bumbling novice would, it's hard to make the show the least bit believable. Furthermore, considering the way in which poker has become the hottest hobby among college students since the invention of Beirut, one would think that the writers could design an engrossing plot for these gambling addicts. Instead, they've spun a laughably intricate story involving too many unsavory characters.
Eddie, Clark, and Miami are too conniving and angry to drum up any sympathetic support in their attempt to cheat the equally despicable Matador.
Then there is the unnecessary side-plot with Officer Lee Nickel, an unstoppable detective from Middle America out to bust the Matador and the casino manager and close down their con game. Necessity aside, this role calls for Nickel to be that classically virtuous hero, the lone honorable figure in a sea of deception and greed. Yet Koppleman and Levien instead created a bitter, emotionless character who will hunt down anyone who might have the answers he needs.
The blockbuster success of televised poker is largely due to the likable rogues and enviable jerks of the professional poker community. Players like Phil Hellmuth, who throw tantrums with the turn of an unlucky card, are widely despised whereas others, such as Daniel Negreanu, are lovable players who poker fans can root for. "Tilt" is missing its Negreanu, and it doesn't even have that oddly appealing Hellmuth character who, at the very least, draws in viewers that love to hate him. Devoid of anyone to root for and no discernable plot, "Tilt" comes off as second-rate pulp television.
Despite all this, the show has its entertaining moments. There are memorable lines, including, "Re-raise, bitch!" The preposterous twists and poker playing provide for a show worthy of a drinking game. Yet there is still a dark cloud hanging over "Tilt." It miserably fails to meet the expectations of younger poker players, and when a show cannot even reach its target audience, there's no way it can make it past the river.
