The Accountant

Uncontrollable utterances, aggressive paternal instruction, autistic militaristic brilliance, humanistically applied, intrepidly cast and driven.

Playing dangerous games with hardboiled foes, Christian Wolff (Ben Affleck) accounts for plutocratic transgressions, willing to humbly assist if lucratively cont(r)acted, able to respond if treacherously played.

The autonomous superlative conscientious individual, codified personal ethics guiding each decision, reified in action, materialized impactions, his giant heart herbaceously beating, his exhaustive knowledge saliently secreting.

He's badass just the facts can chillax everlasting.

Multicaring.

Wizarding throes.

The Accountant enlightens a thoughtful entertaining romantic intellectual thrilling combative gridiron, smoothly intertwining these elements without tritely enumerating sentimental calculi, logically rationalizing while artistically expressing, its quotient quotidianly qualified, with a healthy dose of algebraic leisure.

Guilt or innocence haunts the narrative with critically productive profusion, like an ambiguous circulatory system cloaked in polarized exhaust.

Gradations.

Laconic ledgers, chilling checks and balances.

Sure and steady.

Compacted.

In the black.

Extract.

React.

Counteract.

Subtract.

On track.

Syntax.