The Accountant

A portrait of high functioning autism, or Batman with a Gun

the-accountant-posterAny points “The Accountant” earns as a portrait of high functioning autism are quickly erased when Gavin O’Connor’s film simply becomes Ben Affleck as Batman with a gun. The film hardly blends genres but mashes them up into a complex, albeit fun and thrilling action caper.

Affleck plays Christian Wolff (not really his name), an accountant in Plainfield, IL who secretly reviews the books of the worst criminals and drug cartels in the world. Born with a gift at math, puzzles and logic yet stifled socially due to his autism, he’s a natural at deciphering where lost money has gotten to and in turn keeping a low profile. Christian lives alone in a drab, undecorated, ranch house. He prepares three symmetrically cooked fried eggs each night for dinner, performs physical therapy on his body while blaring heavy metal and pops a Xanax at exactly 10:01 each night.

O’Connor could’ve stopped at having Christian be a meticulously perfect mathematical prodigy and, later, an assassin, but exploring his childhood dealing with autism gives him a provocative past, a cause and a vice to overcome throughout the film. And yet it becomes squandered when Christian’s father begins giving him super soldier training in martial arts and sharpshooting. His origin story is less of coping with a disability (or as someone who is differently abled, to be more accurate and politically correct) and more of a ruthless father (Andy Umberger) who pushes him to be a weapon. One version feels relatable to parents, and the other sounds like “Batman Begins.” Continue reading “The Accountant”

Warrior

“Warrior” is an ugly, jittery, annoying and contrived film that never relents in beating you.

The Fighter” isn’t exactly “Raging Bull,” but it’s a better film than most give it credit for. To call “Warrior” just a Mixed Martial Arts “Fighter” set in Philly however is giving “Warrior” way too much credit.

Watching “Warrior” I realized all the things “The Fighter” actually does not do. It has no split screen montages, no wives telling their husbands fighting is the wrong life for a family man, no shaky cam fight scenes, no unbeatable foreign behemoth, no money problems, no dark pasts conjured out of thin air, no legal issues, no dead mother, no washed up father lamenting his glory days, no fake SportsCenter clips and most of all, no parables.

“Warrior” has all of these things, and yet lacks a minute of the fun in watching Micky Ward’s train wreck of a brother, his posse full of trashy sisters, his tart and sexy girlfriend or his commanding and memorable mother. Continue reading “Warrior”