The Accountant proves itself a bad idea

Ben Affleck does math in The Accountant. Image courtesy Warner Bros.

It’s easy to figure out how bad The Accountant is by reading its synopsis. This is a film, after all, that has Ben Affleck as an autistic accountant who goes on murderous, vengeful rampages when the occasion for such actions occur. Read that summary again and let the awfulness of this idea wash over you, because, again, this film stars Ben Affleck as the eponymous autistic bean counter who kills ruthlessly and efficiently. Because Affleck's character is autistic, and, per the film's logic, autistic people feel less remorse for their actions than average people do and have little comprehension of the consequences their actions incur. The film, in effect, reveals why autistic people would make for the best mass murderers, because they’d be so intensely focused on the task the inhumanity of the acts wouldn’t even dawn on them.

The Accountant thrives on stereotypes. It covers how autistic people have trouble interacting with people; how well they can comprehend difficult mathematical concepts; their issues with loud noises and over stimulation; their difficulty with eye contact; and their problems engaging in romantic relationships. It presents these facets in an easy to read fashion, falling back on all the clichés used by filmmakers to indicate autism without delving into the true ramifications or depths of it, the pain and sadness of always being a few miles away from everyone else. Affleck's take is the take most actors use; a confused blank canvas whose existence is defined by the surface and lacks anything underneath the lost exterior. Some credit goes to Affleck for not overindulging in ticks or wobbly strangeness like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, but he adds little else to the formula set before him. He is defined by his autism, as many filmmakers believe people with autism are.

Strangely, it takes a suspiciously long amount of time for the film to admit verbally Affleck’s killer has autism. The first act features a scene with a young Affleck and his parents visiting a specialist, who outlines the boy’s symptoms that are shorthand for autism. Yet the word is not mentioned at all; rather, the film uses the “I'm not saying, I'm just saying” approach to insinuate as heavily as possible that Affleck's character is autistic. It's an incredibly cowardly bit of filmmaking to insinuate a diagnosis like that, as if they're afraid to actually say “autism.” Which is a little weird considering the last few minutes of the film play as something of an odd to those along the autism spectrum, including a quote of the current statistics and the concept of greatness hidden behind the veil of their personalities and moderate oddities. The Accountant even takes the time to bring up some famous historical figures who may have been autistic (Lewis Carroll among them), which  really makes that initial hesitation to say the word autism doubly annoying.

The Accountant is a pretty annoying viewing experience setting aside the awful premise. Talented costars Anna Kendrick, Jeffrey Tambor, J. K. Simmons, Jon Bernthal (the closest anyone gets to being interesting), John Lithgow and Cynthia Addai-Robinson waste their time waiting for Affleck to do something.  It has little storytelling ingenuity, riding several minutes of J. K. Simmons exposition to explain plot points residing somewhere between key and middling. That much of the exposition is redundant exacerbates the run time that is already much longer than the story has any right to justify. And the filmmakers, director Gavin O'Connor and Bill Dubuque, frequently alert viewers to impending twist reveals with the cinematic equivalent of the elbow jab, vomiting in tiny reveals leading to a grander reveal that feels oh so clever. They're like the house cat who kills a pigeon and leaves it at the front stoop, so proud of its relatively minor accomplishment.

It’s that autism angle that bothers me the most, because eliminating whatever layer of autism O'Connor and Dubuque inserted into Affleck's character has no effect on the story. This would still be a pretty basic story of a loner who seeks revenge for lost friendships and abides by a moral code, like the Driver in Drive. Affleck's autism doesn’t have an effect on his machinations or even serve as a reason for his aloofness, considering the filmmakers lobbed in an abusive father backstory that more than explains his character’s difficulties with people. O'Connor and Dubuque use autism as a cheap, lazy storytelling trick, which is the most offensive part of their abysmal movie.

Review: One out of Five Stars

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Rating: R

Run time: 128 minutes

Genre: Action

Ask Away

Target audience: I haven't the foggiest.

Take the whole family?: This is a pretty bloody, violent film, so don't take the kids with you if you decide to go.

Theater or Netflix?: If you're really fascinated by the concept of Ben Affleck as an autistic murderer, do yourself a favor and at least wait for the home option.

Are there any good films about autism?: Not that I've seen, although Temple Grandin is supposed to be pretty good. So many of these films feature actors playing with little hand quirks and head rolls they never bother to capture the depth of the characters they're playing. It gets frustrating watching people try to AUTISM on screen.

Watch this instead?: Hit up The Bourne Identity to get your fix on a high quality action flick with a complicated central figure. Drive also does tackle the complexities of humanity and love with tremendous blood and grace, along with iconic turns from Ryan Gosling and Al Brooks.