Review: The Accountant 2

Even back in 2016, The Accountant was the kind of action movie that felt a little behind the times. A complicated plot built around a surprisingly good hook - what if Ben Affleck was fake-named Christian Wolff, an autistic super-accountant who laundered money for top criminals and was also really good at murdering henchmen - it didn't really deliver anything special but it did serve up a lot of it. And now, in a move nobody saw coming, he's back.

This time around the whole "crime accountant" thing is dismissed in a single phone call (the film spends more time on a scene where Wolff rigs a speed dating event, only to find his personality is so off-putting everyone bails on him), leaving the plot mechanics to an overly-complicated set-up involving the abrupt death of a supporting character.

This leads to newly promoted supporting character Marybeth Medina (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) taking on a mystery only "The Accountant" can help her solve. As she is a high level Federal law enforcement officer, this is the one part of the story that's actually convincing, even if her reason for contacting an organised crime figure is that the investigation is off the books and not because government law enforcement has collapsed in the USA.

They run around, Wolff cracks some heads - much to Medina's dismay - and then he realises he's going to need some help to figure out how to solve what seems to be a human trafficking case. Enter his equally murderous but slightly more socially adjusted brother Braxton (Jon Bernthal), who takes time out from being a hitman who's trying to collect a cute puppy to come to LA to use his ability to act like an actual human being to murder the people his brother can't.

Their double act is easily the best part of the film, and while it's unlikely we'll ever get a film that's just one lethal killer trying to help another lethal killer pick up women in cowboy bars, that's Hollywood's loss because that kind of thing is the only time this really comes alive.

Otherwise the story is by-the-numbers in that generic action movie way where everything builds to a big shootout where the stakes are like "eh, whatever", while the few weird elements from the previous film (most notably Wolff's backup team of autistic super-hackers) only get the occasional look-in. Nothing here is actively bad, but aside from the Affleck-Bernthal pairing it's difficult to figure out what exactly about this is meant to be luring audiences into cinemas.

Then again, it is a pretty solid pairing. The pair have strong chemistry, they're both better actors than the material requires, and their characters mesh well together. Wolff gets to warm up and show some interest in Braxton's feelings, and Braxton's tough shell cracks at a moment that actually makes good use of the fact that this is a sequel and the characters do have an on-camera history that goes back almost a decade.

It's rare to see an action movie these days where the action isn't the whole point (what action we do get here is solid but not spectacular), but that means the main plot ends up feeling a little beside the point. It's the buddy comedy stuff that works here.

If someone suggested a version of The Odd Couple with these two leads as bickering roommates who occasionally have to murder a warehouse full of goons, they'd have a winner on their hands; maybe get the Accountant to run the numbers on that project.

- Anthony Morris

Review: Sinners

 

The year is 1932, and the SmokeStack brothers (both Smoke and Stack are played by Michael B Jordan) have returned to their southern home town with a load of money and guns. They're looking to invest in a juke joint, so over the course of a day they buy an old sawmill, source a couple of musicians, stock the place with supplies (the booze they've bought themselves) and get ready for one hell of a good time.

Thanks to Irish vampire Remmick (Jack O'Connell), that good time eventually does turn hellish, but the turn is a long time coming. Writer / director Ryan Coogler (Black Panther) takes a long time setting things up, and not a moment's wasted: Smoke (the serious one) and Stack (the free-spirited one) split up to get what they need, and their adventures gathering supplies and young guitarist Sammie Moore (Miles Caton) plus experienced blues harp player Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo), keep the energy levels way up.

Once the music starts this really takes off - literally at one central point, when Sammy's playing reaches across time to bring in the spirits of other musicians past and future. It's the kind of scene that could easily have come off as forced or cheesy, but the joy and power of the music carries it effortlessly. When people call this a musical, they're not joking.

There's a lot going on here before the chord change. The brothers are giving back to a community that's under siege even before the vampires turn up, the music an escape from chains both literal and social. Coogler takes full advantage of the wide open landscapes to craft some gorgeous big-screen visuals before the story shifts to the sawmill. And there's a string of sharply defined women (including Hailee Steinfeld, Wummi Mosaku and Jayme Lawson) drawn to the music and the men who're making it happen.

Then, after a single scene of horror early on to let us know what's to come, the tone changes. The shift when Remmick and his new backing band turn up looking to come in and play a few numbers isn't abrupt, but it doesn't take long for a bunch of new rules to be established.

Now we're watching a vampire movie, and Coogler shifts to playing the classics. There's a few angles he's interested in polishing up - the need to invite vampires in comes up again and again to good effect - but on the whole the vampire stuff is merely good rather than great. Coogler's like a musician who has to run through the hits, but his heart isn't quite in it: it's when he gets to spin his own riffs that he really shines.

Everything in that first 90 minutes - especially the use of music - is pushing things, taking the story beyond the usual limits. And that includes sexually; we're so used to mainstream American genre film being asexual that the easy way this has with sex - both brothers get their ends away, sex advice is casually handed out and skillfully applied, and there's no doubt whatsoever that the music we're hearing only has one thing on its mind - is more transgressive and startling than any horde of bloodsuckers that used to be people.

Coogler draws a very straight line between the music and the beyond. Charlie's guitar playing is so good, we're told, it can pierce the veil between this world and the next and open a door between them (which is why vampires aren't turning up to every juke joint down south). It's just that the music here is so much more vivid than the vampires, supernatural beings or not. We expected something awe-inspiring and terrifying, not a bunch of overly familiar rowdy drunks.

Then again, the vampires like a good tune too. The divide between Irish traditional and the blues seems a bit harsh at first, but it rapidly becomes clear that the film, if not the people in it, are on the side of music no matter who's playing it. 

That's made even more clear in the film's multiple codas (you do not want to leave when the credits start rolling), where the focus is as much on the music that survived the night as it is the people. Seems there's more than one way to live forever.

- Anthony Morris

Review: Warfare

The year is 2006, the place is Iraq, and in Ramadi a US Navy SEAL team selects and occupies a multistory home, smashing their way in and ordering the residents to stay in a single room. There they set up a post covertly observing a nearby market, though it doesn't take long for the locals to realise they're being watched. Many of the locals have guns. Things rapidly escalate.

This story (based on events experienced by co-director Ray Mendoza) isn't entirely told in real-time - the Americans were in the house for a while before things turned violent - but once the shooting starts the focus is on immersing the audience in the moment-by-moment chaos and clamour of modern war. It's loud, it's confusing, you can't see who's shooting at you and you don't know if those around you who've been shot are dead or just wounded.

Co-director Alex Garland has form with this kind of you-are-there look at street fighting (see the final act of Civil War) and this is an extremely tense experience for much of the 95 minute run time. The SEAL team are just distinct enough to be individuals without breaking the illusion of being there as it happens - nobody starts revealing their backstory - and while at times it's difficult to identify who's doing what (being covered in dirt and plaster will do that to you), the confusion is intentional.

There's a lot to unpack here if you can get past the relentless violence and stress of combat (to be fair, that's hard to do at times). The soldiers psych themselves up for combat by watching the notorious softcore porn video to Eric Prydz' 'Call On Me'; amongst themselves they're joking, on the job they're emotionless machines, and the Iraqis whose home they commandeer are an inconvenience at best. 

War itself here is both visceral and remote, the unit a well-oiled machine designed to fire thousands of rounds at distant shapes. It's the small moments that stand out against the carnage - gear needs to be retrieved, superior officers don't want to release needed resources, the shockwave from a low-flying jet is better able to suppress the enemy than any lethal weapon.

Beyond the impressive film-making on display, Warfare stands out for the way it takes the "focus on one day and you'll reveal the subject's entire life" biopic approach to the Iraqi war. The story here is the conflict in miniature: a group of Americans invade a family home for reasons that seem arbitrary, trash the place, get into a massive battle with heavily casualties and loss of equipment, then withdraw having achieved nothing. 

At one point one of the two local troops on patrol with the US forces say the Americans are going to use them as human shields: they are not shown happily waving flags during the end credits.

- Anthony Morris

 

 

Review: Drop

 

Drop is one of those thrillers it's become slightly surprising to see in cinemas. Small cast, largely confined to one location, well-written and twisty script; it doesn't have a whole lot going for it but it definitely makes the most of what there is. It'd be nice to think there's still room for this kind of film in between the blockbusters and horror franchises. After all, cinemas still claim to have something for everyone.

Violet (Meghann Fahey) is going on her first date in years - her gun-waving husband is dead, she's now giving guidance to abused women, these dots don't need much connecting - leaving her young son in the care of her sassy sister (Violett Beane). It's a dinner date at a fancy restaurant high above the city, and while she's waiting for photographer Henry (Brandon Sklenar) to show she has a number of brief but memorable encounters with fellow diners and staff which you should definitely pay close attention to.

That's because not long after the hopefully happy couple sits down she starts getting text messages from a anonymous file-sharing service called Digidrop (hence the title) that rapidly get personal and aggressive. Turns out there's a man with a gun at her home and there's a few things the mystery messenger wants her to do before the night is out.

Most of the middle act is Violet trying to get help only to find the texter is one step ahead, while the mystery of who it might be (turns out they have to be close by for the app to work) is handled with plenty of misleads but not too many obvious cheats. There's a few surprising moments, but this is a fairly grounded entry in the genre - it's not exactly realistic, but it takes place in a somewhat realistic world.

Fortunately writers Jillian Jacobs and Christopher Roach, along with director Christopher Landon (responsible for the very enjoyable Happy Death Day series) keep things moving fast while juggling enough subplots (will the sleazy piano player really play 'Baby Shark'? Will their server ever make it in the world of improv?) to ensure things never get bogged down.

There's also the whole first date angle, which is handled deftly thanks in large part to the authentic chemistry between Fahey and Sklenar, but with a nice boost via a conversation which ties Violet's abusive past with what she's going through here. It's nothing ground-shaking, but like everything else here it's just that little bit better than it needs to be.

At a tight 90 minutes, and with an all-action climax that goes big compared to the tightly-wound film leading up to it, this understands the brief and fulfills it efficiently. Centered on an excellent performance from Fahey, who has to get a lot of the drama across while playing a character trying not to let anything show, Drop is 2025's best worst first date.

- Anthony Morris