“Snake Eyes.” Directed by Brian De Palma. Written by David Koepp. Running time: 99 minutes. Rated R (for violence and language)

Watching Nicholas Cage in his most recent films — “Face/Off,” “Con-Air,” “City of Angels,” and now in Brian De Palma’s “Snake Eyes,” is very much like coming upon a high-speed traffic accident with little warning: so stunned by the wreckage of his performances, one stares transfixed by them, unable to look away in spite of the considerable horror.

That Cage is building a career on caricature is an understatement. In each successive role, he looms larger, becomes more exaggerated; a 40-foot screen is no longer big enough to contain him or his wildly animated face. He has presence, indeed, but at an exhausting cost to his audience. His entire being is raw, primal, suggesting he is not so much a man as he is a chunk of red meat infused with sudden life — and at his worst, with the E. coli bacteria.

Sometimes, this take-no-prisoners style of acting works, which it does to a certain extent in “Snake Eyes.” Cage and De Palma are well-matched here, first because each works on instinct rather than on logic, and second because each excels in building the viewer’s emotions to a near fever-high pitch. When they are at their best, they are each other’s maniacal id, complementing each other seamlessly even as “Snake Eyes” gradually loses its bite.

In the film, Cage is Rick Santorra, a corrupt, small-time Atlantic City cop who descends on the Millennium Hotel and Casino just as Hurricane Jezebel is descending on the New Jersey coast.

As high winds and strong rains batter the hotel, a boxing match between two superstars is about to commence inside. Santorra swings confidently through the crowd, the gold chains at his chest winking back at women pausing to wink at him.

He finds a bookie, places a bet, shakes down a drug dealer and steals the man’s money. He pushes through the casino as if it were his own, stopping only when he comes upon his best friend, Cmdr. Kevin Dunne (Gary Sinise), who is in charge of event security for the visiting secretary of defense (Joel Fabiani). The two men chat, take their seats in front of the secretary and look to the ring as the fight begins. Keeping his camera on the crowd, De Palma slowly allows the guts of his film to take form.

Watch the coy, red-haired vixen take a seat too close to the secretary. See Dunne leave his seat to question the woman — and then chase her when she flees. Witness another woman — blonde, pretty, clearly nervous — take Dunne’s seat and pull the secretary toward her while, in the ring, the reigning champ (Stan Shaw) becomes a chump and hits the mat hard.

In the sudden hail of gunfire that erupts within the stadium, the secretary’s throat becomes a halo of blood that turns this film on its side as 14,000 witnesses leap to their feet and rush toward the stadium’s exits.

Santorra, shaken, now stands at the center of a fiercely illogical setup, one that offers a terrific build-up and great visual style before disappointing — mildly — at film’s end. Grade: B-

Video of the Week

“The Boxer.” Directed by Jim Sheridan. Written by Sheridan and Terry George. Running time: 105 minutes. Rated R (for violence and language).

Teaming for a third time with Daniel Day-Lewis, director Jim Sheridan (“My Left Foot,” “In the Name of the Father”) returns to Belfast, Northern Ireland, with “The Boxer,” an excellent film about the dangers of love, the tenacity of the human spirit and the heartbreak of war within a community divided by pride, turmoil and fear.

As Danny Flynn, the once-promising boxer who spent 14 years in prison for terrorist associations, Day-Lewis is superb, delivering a sterling performance that moves with a force that builds in its subtlety.

Danny is a changed man, his years in prison having bled whatever rage was once within his gut. What he wants most upon returning home is what he cannot have — a peaceful, quiet life with the woman he still loves, Maggie (Emily Watson), whose husband, an IRA terrorist, remains in prison.

IRA rules dictate that any man caught having an affair with a prisoner’s wife must be shot and killed. Knowing this, Danny and Maggie try to come to terms with their feelings, understanding that their love may not be possible in the face of so much hatred, bitterness and strife.

But they are in love and continue to see each other, stealing away moments that are meant to be private but instead capture a city’s unwanted attention. So unwanted, in fact, that it causes a bloddy rebellion, leaving several dead by film’s end. Don’t miss this. Grade: A-

Christopher Smith, a writer and critic who lives in Brewer,