In theaters

THE COOLER, directed by Wayne Kramer, written by Kramer and Frank Hannah, 103 minutes, rated R.

Wayne Kramer’s “The Cooler” is one of those movies that would have been doomed to indie obscurity if it weren’t for its sole Academy Award nomination, which Alec Baldwin won for his supporting turn as Shelly Kaplow, an old-school Vegas casino kingpin bloodying noses and smashing kneecaps in an effort to protect his increasingly shaky turf.

The film isn’t as tough as it should have been and doesn’t break any new ground on the Strip, but it doesn’t waste your time, either, which these days is something of a lark.

As co-written by Kramer and Frank Hannah, the story is just compelling and sleazy enough to make for a modestly interesting noir, with its cast going a long way in making the movie as satisfying as it is.

The film stars William H. Macy as Bernie Lootz, a likable schmuck whose whole life has been defined by an unenviable streak of bad luck.

His luck is so bad, in fact, that his employer – the Golden Shangri-La Casino – can count on him to cool any person’s winning streak by merely passing their table, peering over their shoulder or touching their arm.

As such, Bernie is the rarest of individuals – a man who has actually made a living in Vegas by being one of its biggest losers.

That he wants to retire doesn’t rest well with Shelly, whose meaty, brass-knuckles hold over Bernie is formidable. Still, Bernie presses forward, counting his remaining six days at the casino until the next stage of his life can begin.

Things look up when he meets and falls hard for the sexy cocktail waitress, Natalie (Maria Bello), who is just pretty enough to make Bernie believe that his luck is changing, yet just trashy enough to have a set of dice tattooed on her bum. It’s her wildness in the bedroom that at last gives Bernie the confidence he’s always lacked. Indeed, their sex scenes together, graphic and intense, are a jolt to the heart of the movie.

Complications ensue when Bernie’s estranged son, Mikey (Shawn Hatosy), re-enters his life with his pregnant girlfriend, Charlene (Estella Warren), in tow. Both are needy wrecks who snort just enough cocaine to make them feel invincible at the Shangri-La’s crap tables, where everyone’s life take a dramatic turn for the worse, particularly Bernie and Natalie’s.

Since so little of what unfolds in “The Cooler” is especially new, Kramer turns to his cast to up the ante and generate some heat. They do so, too, particularly Baldwin, who uses his extra weight and withering gaze to lay the foundation of a performance that works by intimidation. Not unlike Vegas itself, there’s something inviting about Shelly, but also something dangerous and cold, which, for some, is part of his charm.

That Baldwin understands this is the key to his performance and so he pours it on, neatly stealing the show and delivering his best turn in years.

Grade: B

On video and DVD

MY BOSS’S DAUGHTER, directed by David Zucker, written by David Dorfman, 86 minutes, rated PG-13.

The debate between what constitutes a good movie and a bad movie will forever rage on, as any film critic with a published e-mail address can attest.

Still, can we agree that it’s a bit dispiriting to see an actor of Terence Stamp’s caliber hanging from a rooftop while beer bottles, rodents, trash and feces slide from the shingles into his mouth?

That’s one of the final scenes in “My Boss’s Daughter,” a numbing stinker from David Zucker that finds the director of “Airplane” and the “Naked Gun” series blowing it big time in a crude comedy that has none of the raucous wit for which the director is known.

For Stamp, the good news is that he doesn’t have to walk this dog alone.

In the lead is the curiously famous Ashton Kutcher (“The Butterfly Effect,” “That ’70s Show,”) as Tom Stansfield, a research assistant for a Chicago-based publishing house run by Jack Taylor (Stamp), a cruel man whose daughter, Lisa (Tara Reid), is high atop Tom’s to-do list.

After a series of misunderstandings, Tom finds himself housesitting for father and daughter, a gig that demands he protect Jack’s multimillion-dollar estate at all costs while also caring for the man’s pet owl, O.J.

Naturally, the inevitable O.J. jokes abound, as do the ongoing misunderstandings, most of which end in some sort of toilet humor with none of the situations going anywhere. Molly Shannon, Michael Madsen, Tyler Labine and Andy Richter co-star as interlopers brought in to pull a Queen Latifah and bring down the house.

The corruption of movies into TV sitcoms began decades ago, but “My Boss’s Daughter,” which stands alone as last year’s worst film, reminds you how corrosive and grueling an experience it can be to endure.

Grade: BOMB

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, 5:30 p.m. Thursdays on WLBZ 2 and WCSH 6, and are archived at RottenTomatoes.com. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.