The Wizard

An autistic youth struggling to comprehend the sudden passing of his twin sister, buckles down and heads out on the road (Luke Edwards as Jimmy Woods), both sets of parents rather unsettled by his departure, he's swiftly located, and brought back home.

It's a pattern, so he heads out again this time with the aid of an older brother (Fred Savage as Corey Woods), who doesn't want to see him committed to a psychiatric institution which is where he would have wound up.

The two travel unfettered undisciplined until they reach an accommodating bus station, where they meet Haley (Jenny Lewis) who's on her way home and discover Jimmy has a knack for video games.

Not just a knack, he's exceptionally talented, so much so that Haley suggests they head to Los Angeles, and enter the "Video Armageddon" competition taking place a few days away.

But they're being tracked by two separate sleuths one a father and brother team (Beau Bridges as Sam Woods and Christian Slater as Nick Woods respectively), the other a slimy weaselly reptilian eager to make a quick opportune buck (Will Seltzer as Mr. Putnam). 

Jimmy may have a natural gift for video game playing but he's still unfamiliar with many exemplars, so Corey and Haley take him to "Nintendo School" so he can practice, prepare, and prognosticate. 

Will they reach their sought after destination in time for the vigorous showdown, or will parental responsibility assert immobile lockdown?

Families split on how to proceed.

Competing diagnoses clashing best practices. 

The Wizard imagines adventurous purpose to pursue quizzical unorthodox therapy, ie., rather than place the child who keeps wandering away in therapy, why not try to find out where he's going?

Their trip could have more closely resembled a video game in its resilient collegial questing, insofar as a more calamitous test of endurance would have been more reminiscent of something like Zelda.

But it's lighthearted and free and easy less concerned with hardship or tribulation, not that obstacles don't present themselves, they're just not so intense and at times rather comic.

If you love video games I reckon The Wizard may provide ample lackadaisical endearment, as several characters including Jimmy's father embrace unheralded electronic inspiration.

The games focused upon may perhaps provide historical import as well, an examination of ye olde old school to function as an instructive comparison.

I never made it very far with video games myself, I just didn't see the point after I reached a certain age.

I've missed out on quite a lot of conversation consequently.

And the occasional not-so-subtle reference.

Rain Man

Risk-fuelled high-stakes automotive accumulation is temporarily interrupted after the passing of a not-so-loved-one.

Charlie Babbitt (Tom Cruise) flies to Cincinnati to settle accounts without delay only to discover he had a brother whose existence shakes things up.

Babbitt's somewhat of an insensitive callous jerk, and is much less interested in his newfound bro (Dustin Hoffman as Raymond Babbitt) than the cash left in trust for his well-being.

He's been living at a psychiatric facility for almost his entire offbeat life, and has serious issues with communication although he's quite gifted at math.

Charlie decides it's time they get to know one another and kidnaps him from the institution, hoping to take him to L.A in order to strike a lavish deal.

But Raymond refuses to fly so they're forced to hit the road, the backroads 'cross vibrant country, since they're much less bland and noisy.

Partner Susanna (Valeria Golino) can't stand Charlie's motives so she leaves shortly after they depart, and gentle Raymond's left in the hands of someone lacking firm compassion.

But Charlie isn't strictly obtuse and can make sincere adjustments, which their trip demands at times as they travel throughout America.

There's a realistic edge to Rain Man which isn't dulled by hypotheticals, it may seem impractical or otherworldly but it still makes sense as they travel on.

It starts out swift and headstrong full of blind instinctual tenacity, but slowly transforms through the art of play as alternative arrangements challenge preconceptions.

At times you wonder how Charlie could be so thick as proof after proof readily presents itself, but without ever having been trained to care for the differently abled, it's not shocking that his confusion persists.

Raymond doesn't have a say in the matter but makes the most of the sudden change, loudly expressing discontent at times, at others curiously contracting.

They wondrously come together as an off-beat non-traditional team, embracing unexpected roadblocks with surprisingly adept efficiency.

The realism prevents the use of words like "smooth" or "understanding", as Rain Man frenetically flows while life mysteriously presents itself.

I thought the final moments made sense bearing in mind uncertain self-sufficiencies, heartbreaking though they were, the alternative may have been much worse.

Not that Charlie wouldn't have given it a shot, he's not so bad after putting in some effort.

It's nice to see a film that promotes change.

Instead of grim hard-hearted despondency.

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.

Ben X

Nic Balthazar's first feature film Ben X looks at life through the eyes of a tortured autistic teenager. Ben (Greg Timmermans) doesn't say much or do much to defend himself. Consequently, his rotten classmates do their best to make his life even more miserable. Ben has retreated deep into himself and rarely leaves his cocoon because whenever he does (outside of the presence of his family) he is greeted with derision and contempt. His world consists of online gaming, odd encounters with religious iconography, and split-second glimpses of obscure pieces of reality which no one else is capable of seeing, his particular disposition rendering them personally objective, saliently shot by cinematographer Lou Berghmans. As things deteriorate, a girl (Scarlite played by Laura Verlinden) enters his online domain who challenges him to speak, to bloom. His resultant desire brings about a remarkable metamorphosis which demonstrates how one moment of extroverted introversion can trump millions of hackneyed catch phrases, objectifying the eternal beauty of peace, brought about through social castration.

Whether or not any of this occurs is a matter for debate, and Balthazar is no slouch when it comes to layering the ambiguity. While this ambiguity may leave you feeling ill, its presence is likely a by-product of every instance in which you partake in acts similar to those engaged in by Ben's classmates, an encounter with the other side, the disenfranchised, the consequences. Ben X unravels the ironic dimension of militaristic bravado, pointing out how easy it is to be brutal and follow cantankerous commands.

While showing how much stronger the people are who peacefully, critically, and artistically stand up against it, the stentorian courage found within the coward who rebels, the derelict strength of a disembodied, ethereal, event.

Filmed in Belgium in Dutch.