How To Make A Killing ★★

Released: 11 March 2026

Director: John Patton Ford

Starring: Glen Powell, Margaret Qualley, Ed Harris, Zach Woods, Topher Grace, Bill Camp

We all sure do hate the rich, don’t we? A whole lot of movies have been made lately combining lifestyle porn with the undeserving enjoyers of those lifestyles getting a violent comeuppance. On the surface How to Make a Killing does a terrific job of – well, no spoilers. But scratch that surface and there’s so many missed opportunities it’s startling How to Make a Killing has any substance at all.

It has been loosely adapted and/or ‘inspired by’ the book also used as the source for the 1949 film Kind Hearts and Coronets. That British cinema classic is mainly remembered for the gimmick of having all eight line-of-succession family members, regardless of gender, played by Alec Guinness. But separate to that gimmick Kind Hearts and Coronets made two important choices: it was explicit that the hero was excluded from being brought up in wealth due to his race, and it was a comedy. Four years after the end of the Second World War, Kind Hearts and Coronets had the nerve to make a movie about an entire family being annihilated a comedy! The emotional catharsis this must have brought contemporary audiences must be what contributes to the film’s continuing high esteem, and it’s peculiar that this present version decided not to emulate either of those decisions.

This is extra unusual because Glen Powell is a hyperintelligent chameleon working overtime on a persona of working-class hero. The most effective parts of last year’s The Running Man were not when he got mad as hell at injustice, but when he showed off his talents for disappearing into a disguise. 2024’s Hit Man had even more fun letting him show off how to become as smoking hot as you pretend to be. But for some reason he’s decided to focus his stardom on sanding down his interesting edges and remaining a relatably pretty face. In How to Make a Killing he is Becket Redfellow, that surname being his mother’s maiden name even though his dad stuck around as long as he could. And his mother Mary (Nell Williams) kept that surname even though she was disinherited à la Gilmore Girls for the crime of getting knocked up young.

Becket is raised with the full knowledge of his exclusion from the family wealth. The Redfellows refuse to provide any assistance even when further circumstances make him a ward of the state. Fortunately Mary’s attempts to educate him in the fancy habits of the ultra-moneyed classes make him a few social connections. The important one is Julia Steinway (Margaret Qualley doing her usual Stupefyin’ Jones routine, which is getting pretty routine) who reconnects with Becket in adulthood and realises he’s still wrapped around her little finger. Their meeting, plus a professional setback, leaves Becket with the determination to get what he deserves.

Writer-director John Patton Ford has some form in the area of violence and greed. His previous film, the excellent Emily the Criminal, was about a young woman who learned the biggest mistake when breaking bad is being small-time. But for some reason How to Make a Killing is nowhere near as smart, mainly because it doesn’t understand its own old-money setting. An old-money family, whose patriarch Whitelaw (Ed Harris being magnificent) never leaves their gated estate outside New York City, would never, never ever ever, have the bad taste to flaunt their wealth. They might be annoying hipster artists like cousin Noah (a superb Zach Woods). They almost probably control finance companies, such as the one uncle Warren (Bill Camp playing perfectly to type) runs, though they wouldn’t be answerable to shareholders. (It’s clear Mr Patton Ford looked up ten financial terms on Wikipedia and gave no further thought to that major subplot. He also tragically wastes the live-wire possibilities inherent in casting James Frecheville as Becket’s major rival.) They probably even blow $90m on a journey to space, like another one of the uncles does.

But they would not publicly flaunt their parenting techniques or any adopted children. They certainly don’t need scholarships to go to university. They would absolutely not arrive at parties flinging cash out of a helicopter like cousin Taylor (Raff Law, whose participation in a movie about nepotism is pretty funny). And these quiet Protestants would under no circumstances become evangelists like uncle Steven (Topher Grace). If you are taking aim at the most prominent recent ways Americans with too much money have behaved badly in public, these are all pretty great targets. But those examples of bad behaviour all came from people who are new money. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, when the barrel is floating in the ocean.

By the time we reach the finale, which takes place in that giant hunting-lodge-esque estate, it’s a pure old money setting. But it’s never confirmed how the Redfellows got that wealth in the first place, though the name and its implications of indigenous Americans might be a clue. It’s also never answered why Whitelaw tolerated having influencers and evangelists in the fold when a mere love child from a teenage daughter was not. It’s not like Mary didn’t hold any cards. What if she’d gone public with her story of rejection? Whitelaw would have lost face and when you’re old money that’s one of the last things you want. Much more likely would have been a monthly allowance and an NDA: the kind of wire-mother situation that would have kept Mary and Becket’s mouths bitterly but permanently shut.

But somehow How to Make a Killing doesn’t know that the whole point of wealth is control. You control your environment, you control the people around you, and you can even control what you hear. That turns you into a sociopath, but so does deciding that it’s okay to kill people because they have something you want. The point How to Make a Killing wants to make is that wanting too much is just as amoral as having too much. It is regrettable that this is not true. It is further regrettable that the very good stunt of someone jumping from a helicopter into a swimming pool, Todd Banhazl’s cinematography which makes clever use of lens flare, Jessica Henwick’s charming performance as the pointedly named Ruth, and Emile Mosseri’s lively music is all therefore wasted. The fact most prison inmates can spend thirty-odd years on death row is never addressed either. The overall feeling is of a meal half-chewed. This means it’s probably for the best that the mishandling of class issues wasn’t compounded by issues of race, especially since all those adopted kids vanish without trace. Mr Powell, who also narrates the film, always strikes the right note of impatient, 3D-chess frustration that most importantly swerves self-pity. It’s a surprisingly sympathetic performance, but being so smart, likeable and handsome is why he’s the big star. But even with all his hard work all How to Make a Killing does is leave a giant mess on the carpet. And the worst thing of all in this misguided tale of revenge? It’s not remotely funny.