The Card Counter: What Bill’s Back Tattoo Means

A shot in Paul Schrader’s The Card Counter reveals protagonist, Bill, has a massive tattoo across his upper back, but what does it mean? Those familiar with Schrader’s work will no doubt recognize his familiar beats, but those who aren’t may be surprised at the extremely dark turn the movie takes. It’s likely not what general audiences are expecting from the trailers, which could account for the 86% to 40% discrepancy between critical review ratings and audience score on Rotten Tomatoes.

That dark turn is slowly unpeeled in flashbacks, which reveal that William “Bill” Tell (Oscar Isaac) was a former prison guard at the infamous Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq. While Bill is a fictional construct, Abu Ghraib is not, and it was the scene of one of the most horrific military scandals in U.S. history. Initially covered up, it was brought to light by investigative reporters who revealed the war crimes and crimes against humanity unfolding in the early days of the Iraq War at the hands of the U.S. Army and CIA at Abu Ghraib. Prisoners were detained indefinitely and subjected to torture including sexual abuse and sodomy, sleep deprivation, humiliation, physical beatings and more. Isaac’s Bill is shown slowly losing his humanity and eventually participating in some of the worst acts as a former soldier stationed at Abu Ghraib.

Bill does a fair bit of time in a military prison for his crimes, but the shame and horror he feels never leave him. Beneath is carefully controlled demeanor and his monkish existence, that nightmare of his past is still buried within, as evidenced by the tattoo spreading across his shoulder blades. It reads, “I trust my life to providence, I trust my soul to grace.” Its meaning is layered, both in the narrative of The Card Counter and in a meta-referential way. In the latter way, it’s a reference to Light Sleeper, one of director Paul Schrader’s best-known works and what is essentially a spiritual predecessor to The Card Counter. In that movie’s opening sequence, Willem Dafoe’s protagonist, John LeTour, is chauffeured around New York City at night while a moody rock song plays. That song is “World on Fire” by Michael Been, which contains those very lyrics: “I trust my life to providence / I trust my soul to grace.” Not coincidentally, Been’s son, Robert Levon Been, is the composer for The Card Counter and Dafoe plays antagonist Gordo.

But there’s an in-universe meaning beyond Schrader simply nodding to his own earlier work. There are countless parallels between Isaac’s William Tell and Dafoe’s John LeTour. Both men are drifters with few connections. Both men write down their thoughts in a diary or project them through voiceovers, but are far more reserved and withdrawn in reality. And both men are sacrificial lambs for their bosses but, more importantly, both men are still guilty for the choices they’ve made and the lives they’ve ruined. God’s providence is what Bill needed to keep him safe in his life as a soldier in Iraq, just as John needed it in his dangerous life as a drug dealer. But God’s grace is what both need in the wake of their heinous work to atone for their sins.

There’s an ironic twist with Bill’s tattoo, as well. He’s done his time in military prison for his crimes and he’s putting faith in God granting him grace, but he’s not really done any work to truly atone for his past. He feels shame, and horror, and guilt, but rather than channeling it into active atonement, he simply retreats from the world. Though he travels through it, he’s not part of it; it’s penance, but penance of the wrong kind and none that will find him being given the grace he hopes for. The Card Counter is powerfully gripping and features one of Isaac’s career-best performances, but in the end, it suggests there are some sins so great that a man can’t possibly be forgiven.

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