Ace Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) dazzles as a savvy businessman and threatening yet cool customer on "Luck."

I’m aware how reductive it can be to encapsulate a Milch-ian work in one word. It could devalue the razor-sharp perception embedded in his dialogue, it could diminish the thought-provoking choices made with any given shot, and it could disrespect the dedication his actors make to their characters. But it could also serve as a guidepost for the casual fan who wants to understand this man’s mastery with thematic cohesion.

This week, the word is seduction. The track is home to the sirens. Whether lured in by the tune of revenge, the hymns of glory days, or the rhythm of horses’ hooves, men and women from all walks of life pass through Santa Anita hoping to be seduced, or looking to ensnare. This week, as he outlined for us in last week’s ending, Ace is looking to hire his liaison, or “go-between, for dealing with Mike, the underworld boss who was largely responsible for Ace’s sentence. The more I see of Hoffman’s performance the more I’m won over by his command.

For intimidation, he need only a sarcastic quip or a persistent stare. His most powerful weapon is his disapproval, which can causes young derivatives hotshot, Nathan Israel (played by Patrick J. Adams) to tremble while trying to give off an air of confidence. He becomes Mr. Bernstein’s latest victim when he questions the practicality of his financial recommendations. It’s unsettling not knowing if Ace will lose his own reigns, because even flashes of his “temper” forebode violent capabilities. I fear Ace without him ever lifting a finger, and that’s genuine power. His contempt can be so demoralizing that a blow to the head would be welcomed just loosen his stranglehold on your wits.

Israel is asked politely by his superiors to meet with Ace. Once in Bernstein’s penthouse the interrogation begins. Ace grills him about his interjections in the boardroom and what compelled him to question his requests to free up money to buy the Santa Anita track. His skepticism comes from deducing that he dabbles in illegal business that extends beyond the cocaine possession charge he took three years prior. Ace of course dresses him down, makes him sweat. When Nathan retreats to the “lavatory” he clues in Gus on his motives. He’s unimpressed by the kid’s smarts and ambition, as it takes style to thrive in this business. But he also recognizes that he could would make Mike’s skin crawl, making him perfect for the job of “go-between.” He offers him $1 million for a year’s employ humbling the cocky financial guru.

On the track, our four degenerate pals make a play for the horse Renzo lost at the claiming race. Jerry exhibits prowess as a negotiator, snagging Mon Gateau for $27,000 instead of his supposed market value of $40K. He also convinces Escalante to train him. At first, he’s reluctant, reasoning that he got rid of the horse because his legs are weak even after two years of rehabbing. Jerry then cleverly rebukes: “Guy comes to me about a girl I still have eyes for, I tell him she has crabs.” Escalante is a steep price, but the exhausting expenses don’t deter our “four amigos.”

The childlike wonderment in their eyes as they pet and feed carrots to their new investment suggests this venture was as much about fulfilling a dream as it is about the earning potential. Even Marcus, still loud-mouthed and blunt, forces a smile as he becomes acquainted with the elegant beast. Renzo can’t help but boast to complete strangers and Lonnie appears unaffected my the brutal beating he suffered at the hands of the insurance temptresses when he strokes his new animal companion. It’s touching to see these four appreciating majesty as opposed to feigning for their big play.

It’s a tough week for the jockeys as both Ronnie Jenkins and Leon take major spills. Ronnie is thrown from Walter’s horse, Gettin’ Up Morning, when the foal is bumped off the rail. Ronnie resorts to his diehard habits of snorting cocaine and downing whiskey to ease the pain of a broken collarbone (which he has apparently broken before lamenting that he breaks his collarbone more than he gets laid) and shattered pride. Leon smashes his head on the floor when he passes out trying to make weight in the sauna. The dangers and pressures of ushering these horses to the promised land is beginning to take its toll on the rookie and seasoned veteran alike, causing their agent Joey to stammer even more severely as his clients recover. In Ronnie’s case, he’ll be out 4-6 weeks, but as suggested by his relapse, his time might be running out completely.

As endeared as I have been with Walter, his story this week came off as a memory wipe. Because of Ronnie’s injury he’s forced to confront his decision to deny Rosie the privilege to be his jockey. His now routine monologue is him practicing what he will say to her, and though this deliberation gave me the warm and fuzzies watching the sweet old man get nervous, it amounted to little more than a complication. Despite Ronnie’s propensity for failure, he always had Rosie in waiting so I was never worried that Rosie would not get her shot. Nick Nolte nails his elderly regret as always, but the circumstances surrounding it were slightly contrived.

I had mixed feelings concerning the relationships that were ignited this week. A woman named Claire enters Ace’s life when she requests he fund her Thoroughbred Retirement Fund, a program that would pair up convicts with broken down race horses, but a spark was evident, and Ace expresses his desire to meet with her to Gus. The other was utterly devoid of chemistry. Jo, (Jill Hennessy) Escalante’s veterinarian, is aghast when he accuses her of mouthing off about Mon Gateau’s condition, resulting in the horse being claimed. She is rightly offended, but when he “apologizes” by hitting on her, she responds by sleeping with him later on. I interpreted their hookup as one predicated on convenience, and maybe even loneliness. But if there was supposed to be romance or affection there was none to be found. I’m okay with loveless sex, but the motivations behind it were absent.

Episode Three, proved to be a continuation of last week, but stood on its own two feet during the character moments. Ace in particular started to feel like a real person, and not just a generic ex-con set on revenge. Our four generates showed sides of their personalities that made them more relatable, and the adorable Rosie is returning! Overall, there was less to jump out of my seat for, and with the horse race sequence shortened the episode lacked that injection of adrenaline that keeps me attentive. Milch, Mann and company executed another fine episode with memorable lines and arresting moments of tension and transcendence, but the pivotal race next week and the introduction of Mike will offer the rejuvenation necessary to keep me and other loyal viewers revved up. For maintaining its stylistic brilliance, and allowing us to view our new friends through windows of delight and mischief aside from the pity and desperation of the past two weeks, despite the lack of thrills “Luck” proved “its got a good head” like Gus’ horse avoiding a collision, with a B+.

More gorgeous horse races, scheming, gambling and intrigue on the second episode of HBO's "Luck."

HBO doesn’t do small-scale. Sure, “The Sopranos” was a family drama embedded in the all-consuming network of the mob, and “The Wire” never neglected the personal struggles within the deteriorating city of Baltimore, but both shows required a steep learning curve (a few episodes) before one could fully immerse themselves in these familiar yet foreign expanses. There was no denying, however, the web of interconnectedness from the get-go. Everyone shared a commonality of experience, the impact of their worlds’s stranglehold, the futility of escape. Whether tied to a family, an occupation, a city or a way of life, these dramas always emphasized the love/hate relationship people have with the place they came from, and how indelibly linked its character is to ours.

“Luck” follows this formula. Last week, it was a universe that seemed impenetrable for outsiders and the unestablished connections between the track insiders had us scratching our heads. I was compelled by the grandeur of this well-oiled, horse racing machine. So many cogs were operating, but the functions of each gear eluded me. Then I remembered the insistence and the infinite wisdom of “Luck’s” predecessor, “The Wire,” “…All the pieces matter.” With that in mind, the labor of the pilot paid off this week. The table-setting paved the way for exploration, and as viewers we begin to recognize where the tragic threads are being woven. Revenge plots are being forged, envy and greed threatens the glory in victory, and opportunities to climb the ladder present themselves.

THIRST was the overriding feeling of the episode. Every one had a compulsion, an overwhelming desire. Some were fulfilled, some were denied, but none subsided. All are bitter about changing world. One woman even mentioned President Obama (referring to him coyly, and farcically, as the Muslim President from Kenya) in creating an analogy about broken promises. These are people set in their singular ways about prosperity and success and they won’t be satisfied with their latest score. They’re going to play the game until they win big or you lose it all.

Ace Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman) already lost it all. We finally learn the origin story of his three-year prison sentence. He fell on his sword, taking the charge for his grandson at NYU, and an unseen associate, Mike. Mike was stashing his cocaine at a co-op apartment that Ace had purchased for business and entertainment. He allowed his descendant to use the place for raging parties and one night the cops crashed it, arresting the grandson on a lofty possession charge. Ace was offered a deal. His flesh and blood would be set free if he would divulge the name of the supplier. They knew it was Mike, but they required official testimony. Ace had never ratted on anyone his whole life, and though Mike would have snitched on him in a heartbeat he took the fall so both Mike and his grandson would remian free. Nevertheless, all’s not forgiven.

The business dealings of last week come into sharper focus as we learn Ace is planning to buy the Santa Anita track and convert it into a casino. What remains undisclosed is how this transaction will factor into his vengeful scheme, but he’s on the warpath, no doubt about it. Gus, “The Greek,” owning a horse is also a piece to the puzzle, but as far as I’m concerned the slow reveal of the details is earned by Hoffman’s portrayal of a sleeping giant. He exudes a slick poise, but on occasion will unleash a lion’s roar to alarm his partners about his grip on reality post-incarceration. He is dangling the bait, and we’re waiting for for one of his investment “pals” to bite. His bluntness and sarcastic debonair make him both fearful and likable. His sinister unveilings of payback have you rooting for his badass “Bernstein temper” side and his tender reflections with Gus at day’s end bring him down to earth, like a Grandpa with lessons of hard work and determination to impart.

Our four “degenerates” come across some difficulties adjusting to their newfound fortune. Jerry’s gambling addiction runs rampant with the recent influx of funds and his willingness to keep playing despite huge losses reaches dangerous levels. He loses $7,000 in one night only to return the night after. But as he watches his thousands of dollars in chips slip through his fingers, his resolve to win only strengthens. When he barely ekes out the biggest pile of the night he’s floating on a cloud, impervious to harm, but with such a large margin or error and so little willpower to walk away, we might as well start counting the days until either the thrill of the chase overtakes him.

Renzo appears to be the most kind-hearted, if  not the most childlike, of the four, and wishes to repay his gratitude through a grand gesture. Now that he can afford to, he wants to lay claim to a horse. In order to manipulate the odds, trainer Turo Escalante (John Ortiz) enters his horse Mon Gateau (one of the degenerates’ Pick Six winners) into a claiming race. The only hitch is Renzo is eyeing that horse. With all the  good karma surrounding it, after it proved to be key to their jackpot, Renzo figures he should scoop it up as the perfect gift to the group. When Mon Gateau wins the race, validating Renzo’s interest, he’s hopeful that he will capitalize on his investment. But another claim was put in. A man named Mulligan had gathered the same intel and after drawing marbles, Mulligan wins the horse.

Marcus, my favorite of the group right now because of the biting insults and his weathered voice of reason, is disgusted by Jerry and Renzo for flaunting their money. He feels they are asking to be targeted by those willing to resort to violence to obtain their winnings. They are relatively tame in their extravagance, however, compared to Lonnie, who dons a new suit and hat. Marcus has a fit. Lonnie’s stray remark about “having two insurance women pay him to f**k” is also explained. Supposedly, these two women are indeed insurance agents, and they have orchestrated a scam involving Lonnie and a fabricated “slip and fall” (watch out for the irony in this term, I’ll come back to it toward the end of the review). As Marcus had predicted though, they learned of his recent cash infusion and change the plan. They took out a life insurance policy in his name and after seducing him and spiking his drink, attempt to kill him. As (wait for it) luck would have it, during their scrum they break through the motel window and a passerby whisks him away and drops him off outside of Renzo and Marcus’ room.

On the track, Escalante is furious after Mon Gateau is claimed and suspects Leon of loose lips. Preoccupied, he fumes at Gus when he makes a innocuous remark about his horse’s condition. Escalante takes a lot of pride in his expertise and when that authority is challenged, or undermined in anyway, consequences (inadvertent or otherwise) are to be expected. Earlier in the episode, Leon did confide in his agent, Joey Rathburn, wondering whether the horse that was put down last week wasn’t fit to race, and Escalante knew beforehand. It’s a heavy allegation and Joey says that he should just keep his mouth shut and ride exactly as Escalante advises. On a side note, Escalante continues to strain my ears with his thick accent, but David Milch and his writing staff are very aware. Another character references it, “I must need a vacation because I just understood everything you just said.”

Rosie, the ravishing Irish women who’s employed as exercise rider by Nick Nolte’s Walter Smith, makes a bold move and requests that she be Gettin’ Up’s jockey. She has established a strong rapport with the horse who continues to dazzle in workouts, but Walter has his doubts. Evidently, horse racing is a man’s world, but Rosie’s humble perseverance give Walter pause. Wanting the best for his horse he hires a Kentucky Derby-winning jockey, Ronnie Jenkins, who seems like the sure bet. Little does he know that Ronnie has a drinking problem and may have passed up the better candidate. In a kind gesture though, Walter asks Joey Rathburn (also Ronnie’s agent) if he’ll put in a word for Rosie at another track, Portland Meadows, and set her up with a good agent. Yet that wasn’t the moment most worthy of Walter’s highlight reel. During his discussions with Ronnie, he recalls how Gettin Up’s father, Delphi, was murdered. When his owner, “The Colonel,” (it is never made clear if he meant the KFC founder or not) the men who took over his farm spent irresponsibly and killed the horse for the insurance policy. He laments over what he could have done to stop it, and describes the sound of horses’ legs breaking as branches snapping. Nolte’s delicate treatment of this tortured soul has already won me over, along with the easy-on-the-eyes Kerry Condon as the trailblazing Rosie, I wish him the best in the episodes to come.

Some will complain that show moves too slow, but I would argue that with all the pawns being put in place for the endgame, maybe it moves too quickly. Because the intrigue is mounting. Balls are rolling as tensions rise and each character offers their own vibrance and zeal. Milch’s dialogue contains a firecracker wit, that adds a bounce to the deliberate pacing. Much like the horse races themselves, the show is high stakes, and as the characters’ need to quench their thirst becomes more desperate, the more invested we become in their “slips and falls” and who/what else will stumble in the quakes and aftershocks. Like Jerry at the poker table, each loss only drives me to come back and leave with the whole pot. The payoff is nowhere in sight, but my fixation on its possibilities match the yearning that intoxicates the “Luck” universe. The joys quickly fade, giving way to the race that lies ahead. Risk is equaling reward so far, as David Milch goes all in. For the audacious cast, the haunting sense of place, and the commitment to thematic balance (the scores and the failures, the lively thrills and the deathly devastations) HBO’s gamble comes out of the second turn (with seven episodes of ground to cover before we reach “the straightaway”) ahead with an A.*

*As of January 31, HBO showed great confidence in “Luck,” after over 3 million watched the series premiere, renewed the show for a second season.

Enjoy a day at the track as David Milch's latest HBO drama, "Luck," takes you deep into the thrilling world of horse racing.

When do you know something is art? How do you distinguish smart storytelling from the lazier narratives. And why does the disconnect between mainstream audience engagement and critical appreciation exist, and how can it be bridged? These questions arose immediately, for me, as the end credits ran after the series premiere of HBO’s new drama series, “Luck.” Created by David Milch, creator of former HBO success, Deadwood, and co-produced by Michael Mann, acclaimed director of films such as “Heat,” “Collateral,” and “Miami Vice,” (and frequent director on the ’80s TV show of the same name) the show centers around horse racing and the various characters that the sport breeds and attracts. Entering this world, I was weary of the culture shock, the little-to-no proficiency of the vernacular, and the little investment I had in the problems of old, white gamblers. Predictably, as I’d been foretold, none of this mattered. Most of what I could nit-pick about has more to do with my obligations as an attentive viewer than it does with any of the technical aspects of this masterful artwork.

Over at the The AV Club, expert TV critic Todd VanDerWerff spoke in his review about experience vs. understanding. Traditionally, when we watch anything, movie or TV program, we try to comprehend the symbols we are given. Whether we’re interpreting a particularly arresting shot selection, a gripping snippet of dialogue, or a peculiar expression on an actor’s face, we’re attempting to make sense of what we’re being presented. Now this act of analysis is not mutually exclusive with experience, but often it can impede our ability to fully immerse ourselves in the sensory pleasure of viewing. But if you so choose to indulge my requests, and the whims of HBO, and you do watch the magnificent first episode of “Luck,” do yourself a favor and shut down your noodle from the opening theme (the unmistakably cool “Splitting the Atom” by Massive Attack) to the last frame. It’s almost like mindless sophistication. No notes were required for me to churn out this review because while there was plenty of plot to sift through, and a lot of legwork is done to introduce us to the characters that inhabit this environment and the channels through which they are connected, the grandest accomplishment of the hour are within two minutes bursts where few words are spoken, because articulation diminishes the visceral thrill of the moment. I’m talking about when those exquisitely statured beasts compete with every ounce of muscle they possess to cross that line first. I’m talking about the horse races.

Simply stated, horse racing, much like boxing is an ancient artifact, a relic of a different time where one could afford to be bothered with such trivial activities as watching animals run around a circular track. But there’s no denying that whenever the Kentucky Derby is on, or even the Belmont and Preakness Stakes, I actively tune in for those two minutes. For that fleeting instance I’m entirely absorbed in whose nose will come out in front, and its unfair to the integral majesty of the horses to explain why. When you see a beautiful woman or man, do you stop and ask why they struck you? When a sunset stops you in your tracks as walk toward the horizon do you disengage to question it? No, you absorb the feelings it evokes until it overwhelms you. These brief glimpses don’t mean anything, and yet they say it all. They are the purest images we see because they aren’t tied to a consumptive or indulgent exercise, they are just part of living. In the world of art we call it transcendence: when an image, a phrase, a brushstroke, or a note impacts you not because it told you something, or what it meant, but because it did nothing, and it just was. 

And yet working in concert with such sensual exhilaration, there is a story being told. Dustin Hoffman is the big ticket, starring as Chester “Ace” Bernstein, a man in his 60s who is being released from prison after serving three years. His crimes are never explicitly defined, but one assumes gambling or financial irregularities of some variety did him in. Dennis Farina plays his pal Gus “The Greek” whom Ace admits is the only man who “gets a pass” in terms of his trust. Ace is returning to the world of horse racing through Gus, who is serving as a front for Ace’s new horse. Also introduced is a trainer, Escalante (played by John Ortiz), who muddles the plot even further with his thick spanish accent (another character refers to facetiously as a thick Irish brogue). We also spend a considerable portion of the episode with four degenerates, Jerry, Marcus, Renzo, and Lonnie. This mangy crew spends the episode trying to capitalize on the track’s jackpot of $2.7 million, which is earned when at least six of the eight races are picked and no one else picks all the same horses. They used their various insider tricks along with suspect cash flows with which they placed their bets. I won’t lie to you, if you have no working knowledge of gambling or specifically how to play the ponies you will be confused, but the beauty of it is you’ll never feel disengaged. The stakes are clear. Win, you get paid. The emotions are so clearly displayed upon the actors’ faces you’ ll be tensing up along with them as the horses near the straightaway.

Lastly, we meet Nick Nolte‘s grizzly, worn-down Walter Smith who shares an intimate relationship with his horse. He lays back in his lawn chair and reminisces with the colt about its father and how magnificent a runner he was back then. This nostalgic feel permeates throughout the pilot as we gather that Ace is mindful of who he once was too, and his unchecked temperament suggests that he is bottling up some resentment towards those who might have done him in. He exits vehicles with a bravado emulated only by gangsters and hot shots. Perhaps his time is gone, but he sure strides like he still owns everything he surveys, or at the very least, he could.

Fragility and frailty are also intrinsic in the happenings of the pilot. We see up-and-coming jockeys trying to make names for themselves knowing that they and the horse must sync up perfectly or else they fall short of the magic necessary. Defeat is just as expertly rendered as victory, particularly when one horse snaps his leg mid-race and is subsequently put down. When the young jockey speaks of the light leaving the eyes of the horse as it passed you feel as though it wasn’t your a regular at the track because the ups and downs are so genuine that it just can’t be your first go-round, it hits you so deep.

The pilot isn’t perfect. As mentioned there are many instances where a conversation zips by and you’re likely to only extract a sentence or two. It’s enough of a working knowledge so that you can stay aware, but you can’t help but feel like you missed something. Michael Mann, however, doesn’t miss much at all as he captures every last detail of life at the track. Whether it’s the steam rising from a horse’s hindquarters, or the way the gate is assembled and operated in preparation for the horses to be stabled inside. Nolte and Hoffman cement themselves as quiet giants that could unleash wrath at any moment they are so indelibly tied to this life, and Kevin Dunn as Marcus exudes an intellectual confidence you’d expect at a Fortune 500 board meeting, not at Santa Anita placing bets. As far as HBO pilots go, this one is fairly typical in that the initial installment doesn’t set the table with exposition, more screen time is spent setting the mood while constructing a unique world, aiming to also evoke the overarching themes and visual stamp.

I haven’t quite comprehended what “Luck” is trying to say to me. Honestly, I heard very little. There were quips that made me laugh aloud, fearing I’d wake my roommate, and there were open-ended statements that laid before me like an undisturbed corpse, but then I walked right along awaiting the next infusion of adrenaline to burst out onto the track. So, do I know what “Luck” is will add to the pantheon of visual novels that HBO has contributed throughout the past decade (The Sopranos, The Wire, the aforementioned Deadwood? I have not a clue. But I get it, I dig it, and I want me some more. There aren’t many things in life that I can just do and I’ll feel at peace. Watching “Luck” is going to be one of them though, that much I can tell you. If this show can continue to provide the indescribable rush of a horse race in hour-long strides, then it will hit the jackpot. But for now, it’s an A-, by a nose.

Rachel Alexandra became the first filly to win the Preakness since 1924, finishing in 1:55.08 over Kentucky Derby darling Mine That Bird.

The only filly in the race, Rachel Alexandra went off as the 9-5 favorite with jockey Calvin Borel, who rode Mine That Bird during his Derby win. Aside from bring the first filly winner at the Preakness in 85 years, Rachel Alexandra is the only horse to win from the outside position.