I can tell it's Ayer's best movie because it is the only one that doesn't make me vomit in my mouth, choke and die. In fact, I actually liked it, maybe even respect it. I am shocked. A testament to Christian Bale's inherit mania, perhaps. The whole movie rests on his fragile mental state and he sells every moment of it; the desperation and constant self-sabotage. It's the only performance that's ever felt human and real in any of Ayer's films. The internal battle at the heart of the film, too, between what's best for you and what you need (a good job, maintaining healthy relationships) versus who you are and what you want to do (getting fucked up, basically) is something I can feel racing through my body
I only imagine David Ayer was dropped on his head after completing this, to explain the sharp, rapid decline into insipid, forgettable, ugly trash.