How to Make a Killing

Becket Redfellow has seven relatives standing between him and a billion-dollar inheritance. He has nothing but time, a bespoke suit, and a very convenient talent for making accidents look like accidents. Glen Powell has never been more charming. The movie has never been more frustratingly half-baked.

John Patton Ford's How to Make a Killing arrives with an impeccable pedigree: an A24 release, a cast of extraordinary depth, a wickedly appealing premise loosely inspired by the 1949 British comedy classic Kind Hearts and Coronets, and two of Hollywood's most watchable stars in their prime. On paper, this should be a knockout. In practice, it's a film that promises more than it delivers � though it delivers enough to be worth your Friday night.

The Setup

The film opens on death row, four hours before execution. Becket Redfellow (Powell), calm and perfectly groomed in a satin sleeping mask, tells his life story to a prison chaplain. His mother, disowned at 18 when she refused to abort her pregnancy, raised him in Newark with stories of the family fortune he was owed. After she died, he decided to collect � starting with the seven Redfellow cousins, uncles, and aunts standing in the line of succession ahead of him.

Each murder is tailored to its victim's fatal flaw. A party-bro cousin meets his end on a yacht. A self-serious "white Basquiat" artist gets blown up in his own darkroom (spectacularly, and to great comedic effect). A finance-bro cousin can barely find the cliff he's about to drive off. The film has a mischievous delight in the inventiveness of its kills � at its best, it's genuinely funny.

Powell & Qualley

Glen Powell, following the success of Hit Man, once again demonstrates that his particular gift is weaponizing likeability. Becket is fundamentally doing monstrous things � and yet Powell keeps you rooting for him because he plays the character not as cold or calculated, but as earnestly confused about whether what he's doing is actually wrong. It's subtle, surprisingly nuanced work.

Margaret Qualley, as his childhood love Julia � now a femme fatale who discovers Becket's scheme and uses it as leverage � is electric in her scenes but criminally underused. Critics have noted that her performance feels slightly misaligned with the film's tone: while Powell plays the whole thing as a breezily arch dark comedy, Qualley commits to something more genuinely sinister. The friction is interesting but never quite resolves. When she's onscreen, the movie crackles. When she's not, you feel the absence.

The supporting ensemble � Ed Harris as the cold Redfellow patriarch, Bill Camp as the unexpectedly kind uncle, Zach Woods as the most amusingly insufferable art-bro since Patrick Bateman � is largely excellent, even if the film's structure means most of them disappear before you've had enough time with them.

The Verdict

The critical consensus on How to Make a Killing lands somewhere between "pleasant surprise" and "frustrating near-miss." IndieWire criticized its heavy voiceover narration as exposition-heavy. The Seattle Times called it "a disappointment." But The Daily Beast and Variety found it a brisk, entertaining lark that succeeds on Powell's charisma alone.

Where you land will depend on your expectations. As a dark comedy satire of wealth and class in the tradition of Succession or The Menu, it doesn't fully land its punches. As a slickly made, darkly funny 105-minute ride anchored by two megawatt stars at peak watchability � it's a good time at the movies.