Accountant 2 unsure of its purpose or point
I’d be hard-pressed to think of a more schizophrenic
Hollywood movie than The Accountant 2. This unnecessary sequel to the
2016 Ben Affleck actioner can’t make up its mind what it wants to be. Sloppily directed
by Gavin O’Connor, the script by Bill Dubuque is a whiplash-inducing exercise
that vacillates between standard action tropes and buddy movie cliches at the
drop of a hat, the desperate tones clashing throughout. Redundant and tired, this is the very
definition of a sequel that should never have been made, a sloppy, instantly
forgettable, lazy exercise that bludgeons and insults the viewers rather than
entertaining them.
The film gets off to an awkward start that it never recovers
from. A confusingly rendered action
scene finds retired CIA agent Ray King (J.K. Simmons) trying to track down a
missing person. It all goes sideways when Anais (Allison Robertson), a hired
killer, shows up to meet him and is recognized by a cadre of men out to get
her. King winds up dead, which catches
the attention of his successor and protégé Marybeth Medina (Cynthia
Addai-Robinson). Not able to make heads or tails of the confusing clues the
dead man’s left behind, she reluctantly calls on savant Christian Wolff (Affleck)
to sort it all out.
Meanwhile, Wolff’s brother, Braxton (Jon Bernthal), also an
assassin, is plying his trade in Europe. He’s stunned to hear from Christian
after a decade, requesting his help on the case. Caught in mid-job, he drops
what he’s doing and comes running.
In addition to the opening sequence, Christian’s first
appearance is also troublesome. Played for laughs, he’s participating in a
speed-dating event, repelling one potential partner after another with his cold
behavior and tangents on tax law. This whole sequence is a head-scratcher as it
is completely out of character from the Christian seen in the first film. There is never an indication he would be
interested in a romantic partner, and this comes off as a desperate attempt at
humor.
This sets a disturbing pattern, as Christian’s autism and
the resulting behavioral quirks are played for laughs far too often for
comfort. For the most part, this was absent in the first film, so it’s curious
this tact would be taken. The problem is
that none of the humor lands and these futile attempts aren’t restricted to
Affleck. Bernthal embarrasses himself
during a solo scene in which he practices a speech to a dog trainer, while his
repartee with the sole survivor of one his mop-up jobs goes nowhere.
As for the ridiculous nature of the mystery that brings them
together, it defies logic, the final solution an insult to the audience’s intelligence. This situation would be right at home only in the most absurd
soap opera. It also doesn’t play fair with the audience, the out-of-left-field
answer likely to induce an epidemic of eyerolls.
The rapid shift in tones between the gritty, meandering
action sequences to the light-hearted scenes of sibling bonding are jarring and
often prevent us from becoming engaged in either story. As such, tedium
sets in, exacerbated by a prolonged, repetitious, action-filled third act that’s
become all too common in films of this sort.
Needlessly complicated to the point of disinterest, The
Accountant 2 has nothing new to say or a point to make. It’s not a movie
you watch so much as endure, an experience I’d rather not repeat any time soon
but fear that I will. In theaters.
Artistry rescues bloated Sinners
There’s no shortage of ambition where Ryan Coogler’s Sinners
is concerned, a social indictment masquerading as a period vampire movie. Set
during the early 1930s, the artistry on display is impressive, an incredible
example of sumptuous production design and meticulously rendered costuming
captured in comforting warm tones. If nothing else, the film is a visual
delight, something you’re libel to pay close attention to during the first
hour, a far-too long but necessary stretch of exposition that flirts with
tedium. Coogler takes a very deliberate approach toward recreating the world
of Black sharecroppers during the Great Depression before it morphs into
something far more sinister.
Technical wizardry is at play from the start as Michael B.
Jordan takes on the dual role of twins Smoke and Stack, outsized characters in
the Mississippi town where they grew up. With a reputation for having worked
with Al Capone, they’ve returned to apply what they’ve learned. Having purchased an abandoned sawmill, the
brothers plan on opening a juke joint, set among the cotton fields that seemingly
stretch to the horizon.
However, each have a great deal of baggage that can no
longer be ignored. Smoke is reunited with Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), who he once
shared a child with that died in infancy. Meanwhile, Stack must contend with
Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), who he grew up with and fell for, only to break her
heart after he left.
In addition to those two, present for opening night of
the brothers’ new enterprise is harmonica player Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo),
angelic singer Pearline (Jayme Lawson), imposing bouncer Cornbread (Omar Benson
Miller), Eastern marrieds Bo and Grace (Yao, Li Jun Li), and Sammie (Miles
Caton), Smoke and Stack’s cousin who’s a wizard on the Dobro guitar. His music,
as well as Annie’s cooking, brings in folks from miles around.
The throbbing energy emanating from the place also attracts
a trio of white musicians (Peter Dreimanis, Lola Kirke and Nathaniel Arcand)
who ask for entry into the club but are denied.
They are not what they seem.
You’ll be hard-pressed to find a better-looking film this
year. Production designer Hannah
Beachler meticulously recreates the period details, getting an assist from
Oscar-winning costume designer Ruth E. Carter. They help create an immersive
experience that’s made complete by Coogler’s ever-moving camera, which
repeatedly drifts through these richly drawn spaces. Whether it’s an impressive
tracking shot that travels across a busy street from one crowded store to
another and back again, or a tour de force moment that takes the viewer on a trip
back and forth through time, Sinners proves to be an impressive
cinematic experience.
These elements keep us enraptured though Coogler’s script at
times seemingly dares us to become disengaged. The first hour takes far too
much time introducing the vast cast of characters and their intertwined pasts.
Throughout, there are scenes run too long and could have been executed more
efficiently. Equally excessive is a third act bacchanal of violence that, while
cathartic, is wholly unnecessary. There’s a sense of narrative flab throughout
that prevents the film from having the punch Coogler intends.
That being said, there’s no denying the potent nature of the
film’s theme. Once the secret of the trio of musicians is revealed, the story’s
tone radically changes, its politics becoming more pointed. And while the
metaphor Coogler uses is obvious, it’s still effective as Sinners pulls
no punches in examining past abuses that continue to plague the Black
community. The director attacks these issues with a viciousness that’s
palpable, an effective approach that trumps the script’s flaws. In theaters.