Back in top creative form after First Reformed, Paul Schrader ups the cinematic ante with The Card Counter, his enthralling take on the well-worn poker sub-genre.

Doubling down on his tried-and-true trope of a moody loner who keeps a diary, the writer/director finds an inspired, willing collaborator in Oscar Isaac, who gives a mesmerizing performance as ex-con William “Bill” Tell, employer of the titular blackjack method.

Similar to the hypnotic appeal of following Ethan Hawke’s routine-centric priest in First Reformed, witnessing Bill’s austere life rhythms — particularly the way he prepares hotel rooms — likewise grounds him as a creature of habit operating beyond society’s norms, and largely beyond its sights.

His outsider status is all the more intriguing for its intersection with the very public and semi-social world of casino card tables, scenes that Schrader and his First Reformed cinematographer Alexander Dynan imbue with a crisp coolness into which the suspense of gambling can quickly bloom.

Entering this largely controlled world is Cirk (Tye Sheridan, Mud), a 20something with alleged ties to Bill’s military past and the circumstances that landed him in prison, who proposes a radical revenge plot against Bill’s Abu Ghraib superior John Gordo (an understandably sparsely used Willem Dafoe).

Bill soon takes the youngster under his wing, and though it’s initially confusing why such a private person would welcome anyone on that level, his true motives are shielded like the talented card player he is, and the rationale gradually becomes clear.

This mentorship or sorts coincides with — and is somewhat fueled by — Bill letting down his guard to work with La Linda, a former player who runs a “stable” of talented poker players, backed by wealthy investors. She’s played by Tiffany Haddish, who keeps her textbook raunchy humor in check, but nevertheless proves a charming female lead and a convincing catalyst in Bill’s slow transformation to something resembling a human.

As he makes the shift from low-stakes games to the big money Texas Hold’em circuit, the addition of Cirk reminds Bill of his military torture past, which Schrader depicts through a thrilling, psychedelic fisheye lens effect that captures the horrifying, otherworldly nature of that stomach-churning stretch in U.S. history.

It’s an apt experience to be timed with the 20th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, with fall-guy Bill representing the average citizens who get swept up in the greedy, cruel decisions made by powerful men with immunity, and wind up shouldering the blame when things go sour.

Schrader ties it all together with haunting, synth-heavy score from Robert Levon Been and Giancarlo Vulcano, complete with horror-movie breathing effects that further ratchet up the film’s already elevated tension. 

Further fortifying the inherently gripping nature of Bill’s gambling is the confidence — nay, assurance — that The Card Counter won’t end in triumphant World Series of Poker glory, and the inevitable deviation is handled with a remarkable degree of tact that honors the preceding narrative while introducing fascinating new elements.

It’s so thoroughly satisfying that, if it weren’t for The Green Knight, Schrader’s film would be the best narrative feature of the year thus far.

Grade: A-minus. Rated R. Now playing at Carolina Cinemark

(Photo: Focus Feature)