Hit Man

Six months after co-starring in the highest grossing romcom in five years (and third biggest American romcom in fifteen), Glen Powell is back to helm Richard Linklater's neo-noir spin on the genre. But this time around, he's given a lot more to work with. Sure, he's always unfathomably charming, but the few films in which I've seen him haven't asked him to do a whole lot. Which makes the premise of this one that much more of a delight: he's a boring university sociology professor named Gary by day, and works with the New Orleans PD posing as a fake hitman to arrest would-be accessories to murder...well, also by day, just different days. When meeting with "clients", he tries to match his look and personality to what they have in their head, giving Powell a chance to go wild with a wide variety of characters, and he's clearly having a blast. After a couple fun montages cycling through snippets of these meetings, we meet Ron, whom he constructed for Maddy (Adria Arjona), a woman looking to get out from under the heel of her abusive husband. After encouraging her to use the money to start a new life instead, they strike up a relationship. Well, sort of: her and Ron do, forcing Gary to live a double life, and demonstrating Powel's gift for changing his whole screen vibe at will (in concert with costuming, makeup, and hairstyling, of course). The stark difference between them is further highlighted by Ron's similarity to Powell's frequent on-screen personas, and his skill at transitioning between them is further showcased late in the movie when he must play both in a single scene.

There's so much meat on the bone of that setup, and Linklater is not one to let any of it go unaddressed. Periodically throughout the film we see Gary in the classroom, discussing the conception of self and if people can really change and Freud's conception of id, ego, and superego. Central to the film is the topic of his early lectures and conversations, that the most effective way to modify your personality is to force yourself out of your comfort zone, to pretend to be something (or someone) which you're not until it truly modifies your thinking, allowing you to become the person you wish to become. To paraphrase, "fake it 'til you make it". As you'd expect, we see this play out as Gary wears more and more "masks", and kicks into high gear when he finds himself playing Ron much more frequently. Gary is a comfortable, bland, unambitious, cat guy, which is no one's idea of a contract killer. Ron is suave, calm, and passionate, oozing charisma and machismo while always seeming at a slight remove that makes catching his eye all the more satisfying.

Then there's the criminal justice side. For one, there's Jasper (Austin Amelio), a dirty cop who was suspended for assaulting some teenagers, creating an opening into which Gary was thrust, so it's not like Linklater is demonstrating a fondness for cops here. Even the program itself comes under fire, as a couple defendants allege it constitutes entrapment, which Linklater addresses in a couple memorable court scenes. Gary is accused of being despicable for serving this role, because of how it relies on getting someone to trust him just long enough for him to break that trust. More poignantly, while on the stand, he responds to a particular line of questioning with how he believes that someone who's gone so far as to meet with him and give him an envelope of a not insignificant amount of money has demonstrated commitment, which makes him confident that it meets the definition of pre-meditated. That the it's a revelation of who they are, not a momentary lapse of reason. In addition to the host of assumptions he's making based on his own personal biases, it also makes him a huge hypocrite. Because everything he just said applies equally to Maddy, whom he had earlier argued was briefly lost and just needed a push in the right direction, and whom he's now dating. While no one states this, Linklater does make the point abundantly clear, both through lingering on Gary in a medium shot his words, then cutting to Maddy back in her house.

Yet even through all of that, there's a further complication nagging at us, forcing us to wonder if Gary was simply played. Something about Maddy's caginess, her insistence on keeping personal histories vague, and the way her ex Ray (Evan Holtzman) has a different take on their relationship issues forces us to wonder if her background is darker than she's letting on.

All of which is a great demonstration of how this movie operates, in keeping with the other Linklater films I've seen. He's not the most subtle filmmaker, and can even be a bit on-the-nose with his dialog at times. But he's keen to include themes which are only emphasized non-verbally, even if they lack subtlety. Or else he'll have characters talk around certain stances, and use their contrast along with the broader context to discuss some issue, such as the topic of capital punishment here. The death penalty isn't directly mentioned to my recollection, but there are a few scenes concerned with whether it's ever okay to kill someone, or could even be a net benefit to the community. And if it is, who has the right to decide and carry out such a sentence?

Through all this contemplation, it remains a wickedly funny comedy. The jokes are fitting and situations are pitched just right, to say nothing of the wonderful job Retta and Sanjay Rao do as Gary's handlers from the NOPD. The whole thing is energetic and bright and charming as hell, owing to the snappy dialog and absurd situations and the crackling chemistry between Arjona and Powell. That propulsion helps keep the romance feel not only central but believable, as it's easy to buy into their inability to stay apart despite not really knowing each other. The result is a surprisingly sexy film, with a handful of playful and steamy bedroom scenes (although multiple do not involve a bed), and each demonstrably aiming to drive the other wild before their clothes even hit the floor.

Despite Linklater's perception as a filmmaker for the arthouse crowd, this is the kind of film that contains something for everyone, while staying away from the traps of a stereotypical four-quadrant film. It feels like the kind of movie we don't see very often anymore. An adult comedy which doesn't feel obligated to overdo the bro-ey dick jokes that allows. A romance with stakes coming from multiple angles, and which isn't afraid of sex. A modern day noir. Seriously, this thing has it all, and it could absolutely be a modest hit, if not bigger.

But as a Netflix movie, we'll never know: you'll watch it at home, maybe even on release weekend, and upon its conclusion return to your day. It won't land as well as seeing it surrounded by others chuckling at Gary's complaints about teeth being a problem. It won't have the same staying power as if you walked out of the theater rattling off your favorite parts to your friends. People will love it, I'm sure, and we'll finally get some numbers on that at the end of the year in Netflix's engagement report. First, however, they have to find it.

I can attest to how well it worked in the cinema, as I live within driving distance of one of the 45 theaters which got show it for two weeks. Big movies deserve to be seen on the big screen, and this is a perfect and tragic example.