The Accountant

I had no intention of watching this film, if for no other reason than because it stars Ben Affleck, who is better behind the camera than in front of it, but also because it was getting very mediocre reviews. But then three people I was talking with told me how much they loved The Accountant and I noted that my favourite living major film critic (Gareth doesn’t quite qualify), Kenneth Turan, liked the film a lot, so I decided to give it a chance.

As a result, I saw a couple of very fine performances from the two women who had major roles in the film (Anna Kendrick and Cynthia Addai-Robinson; the latter, and the role she played, were the best things about the film). And, um, uh, nope, that’s it. 

I’m not going to waste my time or yours telling you about the plot of The Accountant, because the story isn’t worth telling. To be more precise, the story isn’t worth telling because the film revels in its graphic violence, especially that perpetrated by the nonstop killing machine who happens to be the protagonist. I watch lots of violent films, and I watch lots of films where violence is clearly meant to entertain, but rarely have I felt as dirty watching violence as I did in The Accountant. Why? Because the accountant (Affleck) is supposed to be a sympathetic guy and we’re supposed to applaud his brutal slaughter of one bad guy after another in a very different way than we applaud James Bond. 

There was no excuse to make this film, though the premise might have worked in better hands (and with another lead actor). ** My mug is down. Don’t waste your time on this one.