Fans of Uncut Gems would be doing themselves a favor by viewing the classic ‘70s crime drama The Killing of a Chinese Bookie. Originally released in 1976—then reedited, recut, and rer-eleased by its director John Cassavetes in ’78—The Killing of a Chinese Bookie is an immersive yet unorthodox gangster movie that Josh and Benny Safdie undoubtedly took inspiration from while making Uncut Gems.

The Safdies’ film is a high-wire act of ceaseless anxiety, following Howie Ratner (Adam Sandler) through New York’s diamond district as he attempts to hustle a series of shaky deals and bets. Through its runtime, the movie hits the viewer with a barrage of overlapping sounds and dialogue that makes Ratner’s tension contagious. Robert Altman’s California Split, Peter YatesThe Friends of Eddie Coyle, and the Safdies’ own Good Time all share some close DNA with Gems, but it’s Cassavetes’s picture to which Uncut Gems is the most closely related. Fans of the latter will find much to love in The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, including a sleazy criminal underworld, the consequential fallout from an ill-advised gambling habit, and some magnetic, immersive camerawork that places the viewer directly in the world of the movie.

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'The Killing of a Chinese Bookie' Is a Truly Singular Crime Picture

Ben Gazzara in The Killing of a Chinese Bookie
Image via Faces Distribution

For the uninitiated, the films of John Cassavetes live outside the margins of traditional mainstream cinema; rarely if ever do his movies feel like anything else filmed before (or since), and it’s through his independently-funded productions that he was able to carve his distinct, highly influential style. While he didn’t exactly invent American independent cinema, he certainly pioneered a certain sect of the movement. Fans of the crime genre will find plenty to love in The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, but make no mistake: Cassavetes carved his own style, and his stab at a gangster picture is entirely unique.

In it, strip club owner and compulsive gambler Cosmo Vitelli (Ben Gazzara) pays off a seven-year gambling debt, only to find himself falling back into the hole after a particularly unlucky night of poker. Once the night’s coming to and end, Vitelli is forced to temporarily sign his club Crazy Horse over to his creditors until he’s able to come up with the payment. To go too much further into plot details wouldn’t only be a disservice to the film (it’s better experienced, as pretentious as that might sound), but it would also be a futile act. This isn’t a movie that’s particularly interested in a traditional plot. No, it’s more concerned with the world it creates, the emotions it extracts.

Bookie spends the majority of its time in the margins where other films might have cut. Vitelli hangs out at his club, talks with the dancers, and auditions a potential new dancer who frolics across the stage like a youthful ballerina. This is largely the point of Bookie. It’s about a guy who wants to make art (he writes and choreographs all the performances at his club) in a world increasingly disinterested in it. Men come to see naked bodies, and Vitelli’s undying desire to create something artistic out of it is the thorn in his side.

Looking at movies like Faces, Love Streams, and, most succinctly, A Woman Under the Influence, it’s impossible not to see Cassavetes' characters as flawed and tragic people whose hearts are in the right places but are nevertheless inept and forming functioning relationships. In the case of The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, Cosmo Vitelli’s desire to love—in particular his club, the girls who work there, and his charming girlfriend (Azizi Johari)—is overshadowed by his compulsion to gamble. He finds himself deep in debt with no clear way out other than to sign over his club to a pack of savage gangsters as collateral, attempt to acquire the funds to pay them back, and eventually succumb to whatever request they throw his way.

It’s what makes Vitelli a genuinely captivating character, and it’s a strikingly similar motive that does the same for Howard in Uncut Gems. Like Vitelli, Howard has a desire to love—specifically his girlfriend (Julia Fox), his children, and his ex-wife (Idina Menzel)—that is complicated by a devotion to running his jewelry shop and an addiction to sports betting. Neither is able to adequately balance these two worlds, and neither is able to live a normal life because of how severely their compulsions intrude.

Why Is 'The Killing of a Chinese Bookie a Perfect Companion to 'Uncut Gems'?

Adam Sandler holding a gold necklace in 'Uncut Gems'
Image via A24

The similarities between Uncut Gems and The Killing of a Chinese Bookie don’t end at the parallel path mirrored between the two protagonists. If Vitelli and Ratner are cut from the same cloth, it can also be said that the Safdie brothers cut themselves from the same cloth as Cassavetes. Josh and Benny have frequently expressed their admiration for the actor/director, and such an admiration is made apparent through their work. Their excellent Daddy Longlegs feels like Squid and the Whale filtered through Cassavetes’s meandering realism, featuring long, talk-heavy scenes shot with a probing, invasive camera.

Their seminal work Uncut Gems again feels like a student of Cassavetes, bombarding the viewer with a torrent of sound. Dialogue overlaps with layer upon layer and characters talk over each other as they fight to be the loudest and the center of the conversation. The anxious plotting comes in when the lead is forced to juggle too much at once, making it look like a fantastic but ill-fated circus act. On the way to perform the titular act, Vitelli stops at a phone booth to call his club. He tries to keep it running smoothly in his absence, and in vintage Cassavetes fashion, a verbal misunderstanding occurs. Vitelli shouts instructions into the phone, escalating his tension and frustration to a breaking point. It’s partly comedic — Cassavetes’ sense of humor is one-of-a-kind — but it also serves the point of showing how Vitelli is incessantly in the middle of doing something.

Much of The Killing of a Chinese Bookie similarly layers things on top of one another. Like the scenes in Howard Ratner’s jewelry shop, where everybody’s shouting at once, the door buzzer meanwhile screeching like an obnoxious alarm, the Bookie scenes at the Crazy Horse bar feel maddeningly overwhelming. In the backroom, characters argue and air their grievances all at once. It’s naturalistic and overwhelming. It’s Cassavetes’s signature style of realist cinema verité filmmaking.

At their core, both films are about men who need to have control over every aspect of their tumultuous lives. Just as Ratner attempts to secure the perfect deal and the perfect bet in a single night, Vitelli spends his time unconvinced that he won’t be able to talk his way out of a predicament. His need for control shows in every aspect of his life. “If you have any complaint, you just come to me, and I’ll throw you right out on your ass,” Vitelli tells the Crazy Horse audience before a performance in a way that only slightly sounds like a joke.

'The Killing of a Chinese Bookie' Has Two Distinct Versions to Choose From

Ben Gazzara speaking into a microphone in The Killing of a Chinese Bookie 
Image via Faces Distribution

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie famously has two different cuts, both of which are still widely available on streaming, or on disc from the Criterion Collection. Feeling the frustration of his original film being a commercial failure, and hoping to draw in some new audiences with a less-intimidating runtime, Cassavetes personally edited and re-released the film two years later. The original 1976 release runs nearly a half hour longer than the release in 1978, but it isn’t simply a matter of the latter version being trimmed down. Interestingly, ’78’s release has some scenes the first version doesn’t, and many of the scenes are slightly rearranged.

Comparing the two makes a drastically different viewing experience. Both are quality films in their own right, and reasonable arguments could be made in favor of either version. Much of what was left out in the second release consists of long-winded performance sequences in which Vitelli’s dancers take to the stage. In the context of the longer cut, these scenes play the important role of highlighting Vitelli's obession with sharing art with an audience only interested in sex and entertainment. (Growls of "take it off!" can frequently be heard from off-screen audience members while the performance is underway.)

So, which version of The Killing of a Chinese Bookie should you watch? Well, that depends. The 1976 version is lengthier, more meandering, and it finds itself spending more time in the seedy Crazy Horse bar. The 1978 is more hastily-paced, and it lacks some of the immersive aimlessness that the longer version has. For fans of Uncut Gems uninitiated in the world of Cassavetes, the ’78 release makes for a more agreeable experience. Cassavetes aficionados who liked his ambitious Husbands might prefer the cut from 1976, as it’s much more character and experienced based than the latter.

Regardless of which version you choose, you'll be seeing one of American cinema's boldest artists working in a genre as old as movies themselves. Though his influence can be seen in everybody from Martin Scorsese to the Safdie brothers, one thing can always be said of Cassavetes: his movies are entirely unlike anything else you've seen, and The Killing of a Chinese Bookie is no exception.