That thing you don’t talk about. That thing that eats at you all the same; the one you won’t remember—but can’t forget. The worst thing that has ever happened to you.
Can you sit with it? Will you forgive?
The Card Counter recalls these painful themes. It’s a super-antihero movie that takes guts to watch. And it’s a masterpiece, one that you should watch as soon as you can.
But let’s keep it simple, silly. Like Bill. Even though he’s exceptionally good at cards, he makes sure not to win too much. The object of his game is maintaining a routine; traveling from city to city and casino to casino, counting cards each hand, each hour, each day, to pass the time. It keeps his mind off that thing . . .
As they say, though, game recognizes game. Bill is just too special to fly under the radar. When two very different people approach him for very different reasons, lives are changed forevermore.
That’s it. That’s all we need for a work that’ll go down in movie history as both brutally visceral and deeply tender.
As Bill’s routine continues with new shape, we learn more about his backstory: why he’s willing to spend his life as a gambling algorithm. The emotional masterpiece is revealed as the new acquaintances connect.
The care that was taken to create this movie is moving. Both the whole and its parts are exceptional, such that if I called any of them out, my list would probably just look like the movie’s end credits.
I am no expert. But I implore you: Please, go sit with The Card Counter, and learn.