As a card carrying Powell Ranger, believe me when I say that I am rooting for the continued ascent of Hollywood’s most charming Everyman. And I’m doubly enthused about the fact that he’s putting in the work as a producer to make movies that should, at least on paper, cater to my tastes. Namely, he’s really trying to put himself at the center of a dark comedy. The Running Man was solid, if a bit disappointing given the filmmaking pedigree, and Hit Man was sweet natured and fun, if not so tonally all over the place that it seemed to find murder cute.
Powell’s latest and most successful attempt at dark comedy is How to Make a Killing, the new film from John Patton Ford, the filmmaker behind the excellent Emily the Criminal. Similar themes of class mobility and haves vs have-nots are explored here, and done so in a decidedly more comedy-minded way than in Ford’s previous film. Here, Powell plays Becket Redfellow, the potential heir to the vast Redfellow fortune. He was not raised with a silver spoon, however. His mother became pregnant at 18, and when faced with the choice to terminate the pregnancy or be ousted from the family on account of the low-born father, she chooses the latter, breaking from her family to raise Becket as a single mother. Before dying at a young age, her final request to her son is that he never stop fighting until he lands himself the life he deserves.
Many years later, after a chance meeting with an extremely rich childhood friend (Margaret Qualley), our antihero decides that the best course of action is to eliminate all competitors to his inheritance. Brothers, sisters, cousins, etc. If they all die, he’ll receive billions. He’s hesitant at first, but after his first killing goes off without a hitch (and nary a tidbit of guilt), he starts to get a taste for murder, and as these things go, a movie happens.
This proves to be a good vehicle for Powell, whose easy charm and general willingness to be the butt of the joke evokes Kurt Russell in his comedic prime. This is important in a film where the lead character, while relatively moral when placed against his cartoonishly villainous extended family, is still a murderer, and a sloppy one at that. Audiences looking for a level of realism will likely find the logistics of his crimes and the ensuing plot escalations to be frustratingly absurd, but to those who can appreciate the old school vibe of “don’t act questions, just go with it” will have a better time. Admittedly, it took me until the halfway point of the film to recognize that this was not set in the real world, and seemed to be operating by Frank Capra rules, but once I made this expectational adjustment, the film began to work much better.
This tone doesn’t always jibe with the dark undercurrent of the story, and when the film tries to raise the stakes by leaning into the latter mode, it isn’t completely successful. Had it committed to either screwball or black comedy it would likely be a stronger narrative. The mixing of these disparate styles does lend itself to a few satisfying shocks, and this dichotomous tonal mixture lends some (perhaps unintentional) novelty to the proceedings, while leading to an immensely satisfying final act. At the same time, it’s such a lark that it lacks staying power. On the one hand, Powell is such a likable narrator, that it makes sense to have the film frame in flashback (as he tells his story to a priest mere hours before his own execution). On the other, this robs the film of a fair amount of tension before it catches up to the “present day.” Perhaps a simple rearrangement of the story would clean up the mess a bit — all the pieces are there, and they all work quite well.
All in all, How to Make a Killing is a good movie that should’ve been great, and a great portfolio booster for both Glen Powell and Margaret Qualley. It’s also a reminder that Topher Grace needs to be in more things.
Directed by John Patton Ford
Written by John Patton Ford
Starring Glen Powell, Margaret Qualley, Jessica Henwick, Bill Camp
Rated R, 105 minutes
