...And thank god for that.
A good actor can relay more information with a look than he can with a monologue. We as humans instinctively understand when the water is coming in and his eyes go to the crack in the wall and we know he is already FUUUUCKed. And as amazing as some of that was... well ultimately the myriad issues of the film took over.
Now I loved Margin Call and for J.C. Chandor to have made that on his first attempt is nothing short of amazing. But here he somehow managed to lose me in his sophomore endeavor. At every turn, I felt as though Our Man (that's the character's name btw) made another dumb choice until, at a point, I felt like he lived his life to the rules of a bad horror movie always running up the stairs rather than out the front door. That's the script. You know?