by Charles Kirkland, Jr.
A charming killer, a fortune at stake, and a bold dark comedy that nearly reaches greatness define How To Make A Killing.
Becket Redfellow has lived a life shaped by absence, bitterness, and a twisted sense of destiny. His mother was disowned by the wealthy Redfellow family, and she died in poverty, leaving Becket with little more than a name stained by resentment. Yet the same family that cast her aside has left a door open for him. He can inherit the vast Redfellow fortune if he outlives every single member of the lineage. For a man who has known only lack and disappointment, the promise of twenty-eight million dollars begins to look less like a fantasy and more like a calling. One day, Becket decides that waiting is no longer an option. He begins to take matters into his own hands, convinced he can outsmart the world while removing the seven relatives who stand between him and his inheritance.
Loosely inspired by the classic British film Kind Hearts and Coronets and shaped by the sensibilities of filmmaker Robert Hamer and co-writer John Dighton, How To Make A Killing arrives with a distinctly modern edge. It is written and directed by John Patton Ford, whose previous film Emily the Criminal revealed his skill in building tension around flawed protagonists. This new work features a compelling cast led by Glen Powell, Margaret Qualley, Topher Grace, and Ed Harris.
Glen Powell continues his streak as one of the most charismatic and quietly versatile actors working today. He channels a bit of the sly charm he displayed in Hit Man, but here he deepens it with a chilling stillness. His Becket Redfellow is both boyish and menacing, a young man who studies his intended victims with almost tender curiosity. He wants their deaths to make sense within the narrative he has written for himself. Powell carries the role with such conviction that audiences may find themselves rooting for a man who is clearly and calmly committing murder. That moral discomfort is part of the film’s strange spell.
The movie cultivates a tone that is smart, darkly funny, and unusually gentle for a story about premeditated murder. Its spirit occasionally echoes the ironic detachment of the Police song “Murder by Numbers.” For most of its runtime, the film balances sinister behavior with a light comedic touch. Becket narrates his tale and, early on, warns viewers that the story is a tragedy. The warning lingers, yet the film builds so much charm and wicked humor that the eventual shift into true tragedy arrives like a cold wave. The transition is abrupt and difficult to absorb. After spending so much time nudging the audience toward empathy and amusement, the film suddenly asks viewers to confront bleak consequences. The tonal shift creates a disconnect and undercuts much of the goodwill the film has built.
Even so, How To Make A Killing remains intriguing. It is a film that demands a refined sense of humor and an appreciation for stories that thrive on moral ambiguity. Its success hinges on timing and on the audience’s willingness to engage with a protagonist who is both sympathetic and unforgivable. For much of the movie, Ford pulls this off with skill.
Rated R for language and some violence with bloody images, How To Make A Killing is ultimately an ambitious but uneven experience. It is clever, stylish, occasionally profound, and undeniably overworked. It shifts direction when it should commit to what it does best. This is not a film for every viewer, yet it contains the raw materials of something extraordinary.
Grade: C
