Directed by: Paul Schrader
Starring: Oscar Isaac, Tiffany Haddish, Tye Sheridan, Willem Dafoe
Rated R, 111 minutes
It’s still hard, 17 years after the images were first made public, to comprehend the torture of prisoners at the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq. The images of abuse at the hands of American soldiers are gruesome and horrifying, illustrating with awful clarity a loss of humanity for both prisoners and guards. As investigations later revealed, the abuses at Abu Ghraib were the result of decisions, policies, a chain of command—soldiers who thought they were following orders. And while the soldiers who committed the acts of abuse were all punished in one form or another, the higher-ups who oversaw the American occupation of Iraq and the private contractors who took part in the “enhanced interrogations” largely avoided accountability.
Frustrating as it is to reckon with this shameful episode, “The Card Counter” argues that facing these sins is necessary. Paul Schrader, best known as the writer of gritty classics like “Taxi Driver” and “Raging Bull,” here makes the Abu Ghraib scandal a personal story of guilt and revenge. Following the gambler William Tell (Oscar Isaac, “Inside Llewyn Davis”) as he travels the east coast casino circuit cheating at low-stakes blackjack, “The Card Counter” shows the aftermath of a travesty like Abu Ghraib: traumatized loners, seeking refuge in monotony, always one bad break away from a meltdown.
William, played with frightening intensity by Oscar Isaac, is a former Abu Ghraib guard who took part in the abuses and served time in prison for it. Released and born again in the comforting tedium of blackjack tables, he counts cards to make just enough money to get by (“The house doesn’t mind players who count cards,” he explains, “what they don’t like are players who count cards and win big”). He moves from one cheap motel to another, keeping to himself, fastidiously covering all the furniture in his rooms with white sheets. This tenuous equilibrium is upset, however, by the arrival in his life of a flirtatious financial backer, La Linda (Tiffany Haddish, “Girls Trip”), who wants to put William up in big poker tournaments, and by a chance encounter with Cirk (Tye Sheridan, “Ready Player One”), the son of another Abu Ghraib guard, who asks William to help him get revenge against the security contractor John Gordo (Willem Dafoe, “The Lighthouse”), who went unpunished for his role in the scandal.
Like its nomadic protagonist, “The Card Counter” tells its story in scenes that feel unmoored, taking their time to reveal a larger narrative arc. William takes Cirk under his wing, hoping to dissuade him from seeking revenge against Gordo, but even as he makes the case for letting go of the past, he keeps tabs on Gordo privately. He flirts with La Linda, but keeps her at arm’s length, never disclosing his past to her. The movie’s score is fragmented to match, a persistent and choppy synthesizer theme suggesting a melody that’s been pulled apart.
The effect is often hypnotic. In one of the best performances of his career, Oscar Isaac lends William Tell a brooding, calculated anger that burns slowly throughout the film; we know he’ll inevitably snap, but the suspense of not knowing when or how keeps us uneasy. In the movie’s most intense scene, he offers Cirk $150,000 in cash to drop the vengeance scheme against Gordo. But as William snaps blue latex gloves onto his hands and stares unflinching into Cirk’s eyes, we understand that this “offer” is no such thing. He may have left Abu Ghraib, but Abu Ghraib has never left him.
Imperfect though his film may be—its clumsy dialogue, the thick atmosphere of dread squandered on a climax that underwhelms to the point of comedy—Paul Schrader leaves us feeling the dissatisfaction of an injustice left unresolved. Like last year’s “The Mauritanian” did with Guantánamo Bay, “The Card Counter” shows how a failure to reckon with the past can only lead to more suffering; for William and Cirk, who dissociate to cope with their pain, the frustration of constant repression drives them to their respective fates. That their story shows us how easily the mind is corrupted—by violence, by vengeance, by gambling—is nothing new. Their tragedy is that knowing this doesn’t stop them from marching toward their ruination, like soldiers in a losing battle.
Originally published in The Harvard Press on 10/15/21.