Autism, Immigrants, and Accountants
I recently watched the sequel to the Accountant, starring Ben Affleck, with my brother, dad, and husband. If you are unfamiliar with the original, which came out in 2016, it is about an autistic certified public account that helps sanitize financial documents for criminal organizations that are involved in internal embezzlement. I learned only recently that it is my brother’s favorite movie; he watches it every year.
The film’s director, Gavin O'Connor, had been planning a sequel since 2017, though with the studio, MGM, in financial decline and the eventual disruption of the 2020 pandemic, a script and principal photography did not start coming together until 2024. The sequel picks up with former Federal Financial Crimes Director Raymond King, played by J. K. Simmons, meeting with a mysterious assassin, named Anaïs. He needs help locating a young boy of a Salvadorean family, parentless at an early age. Anaïs, believing that he intends for her to kill the boy, declines the offer but lets him know that he is being following by nefarious criminals. A gun fight ensues, resulting in the death of Raymond King from a sniper outside, but he was able to provide a clue to continue his pursuit of finding the young kid, writing “Find the Accountant” on his arm. Marybeth Medina, played by Cynthia Addai-Robinson and the current Director of Federal Financial Crimes, is notified that her former boss was in the morgue with the note inscribed on his arm.
Marybeth understands who this mysterious accountant is and finds a way to contact Christian Wolff, played by Ben Affleck, for assistance. Christian is unique, with a storied past of misunderstanding and frustrations due to his autism. His ability to calculate complex numbers and learn rapidly is brilliantly shown, as the audience is consistently amazed with each new revelation to the mystery of Raymond King’s project before his untimely death.
The first movie came out in the theaters back in 2016. Personally, it was significant not only for my brother, who was attending Rutgers University for accounting but the beginning of my plans to move away to upstate New York with Michael. My brother and my relationship began to drift apart, given that his life in the dorms of Rutgers and my frequent traveling made it difficult to keep in touch like when we were younger. There is a scene involving Christian and his brother, Braxton, at his mobile home that helps to illuminate a similar, but more extreme, divide, as they also drifted apart. In the end, they intend to continue to be in each other’s lives.
I first saw the movie in a place called Annie’s Movie Theater, right in the middle of downtown Glens Falls. It has since been turned into Downtown Social, a restaurant, nightclub, and speakeasy, omitting its roots as a movie theater. Watching the sequel eight years later, I am reminded of not only the changing look of Glens Falls but our lives. I am currently married, own a home, and on the ballot as an aspiring local councilperson, while my brother became a manager at Ernest and Young living in Philadelphia.
I remember joking with my brother that this is certainly a unique take on the historically bland look of a career as an accountant. The story logistically makes sense; criminal enterprises, as we know from shows like Breaking Bad, need to find ways to “sanitize” the way their money is acquired to appear legitimate under the law. But the scale and breath of the films at portraying an accountant as a trained gunman and assassin is mind-blowing.
The story of an autistic accountant and the struggles of immigrants to the United States of America is incredible pertinent in our political climate, as members of the Trump administration continue their assault on the dignities of neurodivergent and immigrant communities. While I do not presume to be an expert, I learned a bit about the research into autism from Jacquiline den Houting, an autistic research psychologist. The internal and external struggles of acceptance, support, and dignity have been going on for a century, dating back to previous descriptions of schizophrenia in the early 1900’s.
Autism’s history has been fraught with myths, misinformation, or misunderstandings that detract from the neurodiversity present in our society. The structure of society around accepted norms that cull the population to a singular mindset of perceived achievements causes harm to those that are brilliant in ways most are unaware. Jacquiline den Houting states in an article from 2018, “Even if we were to set aside the belief that an individual is disabled by their social environment and instead adopt the medical model’s assumption that disability is inherent to an individual, it would arguably remain preferable to presume competence (i.e., to assume that a person has a given capability unless there is clear evidence to the contrary) and thereby provide an opportunity for achievement, rather than to presume incapacity and thereby stifle development.”
The movie helps to illuminate the profound strengths of neurodivergent minds across all age, abilities, and nationalities. It focuses on the story of an orphaned boy from a Salvadorean family, highlighting the true connection of humanity regardless of borders. Through an action-packed and heartfelt film, the audience is able to find compassion and empathy for those different than the norm. While one movie cannot change the political and social landscape all of us are living, it can be the first step for repairing our collective abilities to reconnect with each other and appreciate our differences.
