Films for Breakfast

Glen Powell has had a fascinating career trajectory so far. He’s not just an actor with legitimate chops; he has that increasingly rare movie-star quality that makes me interested in almost anything he signs onto, if only to see what he chooses to do next. What’s most intriguing is the strategy behind his rise. After the double hit of Anyone But You and Twisters landing just months apart a couple of years ago, you might’ve expected him to chase guaranteed blockbusters, attach himself to a massive franchise, or angle hard for prestige bait.

Instead, he’s taken a distinctly ’80s/’90s movie-star approach; choosing sleek, mid-budget crowd-pleasers that are accessible yet distinctive. They’re marketable, yes – but they have personality. With How to Make a Killing, he finds a role that lets him dig in a little deeper. The film follows Beckett Redfellow (Powell), a man disowned at birth by his obscenely wealthy family. Stuck in a thankless job and increasingly bitter about the life he feels was stolen from him, Beckett realizes just how many relatives stand between him and the fortune he believes he’s owed. So he begins eliminating them – one by one.

As Beckett cons and claws his way through each situation – sometimes through pure charm, sometimes by shapeshifting into whatever persona the moment requires, and sometimes by sheer luck; Powell walks a delicate tightrope. Beckett is doing objectively terrible things. And yet, because of the grotesque excess of the family he’s targeting and the cruelty with which he and his mother were cast aside, you can’t help but find yourself rooting for him, even as the bodies pile up. Powell plays him as charming but oily, confident but quietly wounded. There’s sleaze here, but also just enough sadness flickering underneath to make him feel human. He has the goods.

The ensemble is equally strong. Each supporting character feels like they get their own miniature showcase within the larger narrative. Ed Harris, Zach Woods, Topher Grace, and Jessica Henwick all deliver sharp, memorable turns that add texture to the revolving door of family members. But Margaret Qualley and Bill Camp left the biggest impression on me. Both throw unexpected wrenches into Beckett’s plans, complicating the film in ways that elevate it beyond a simple inheritance thriller. That’s where the movie really finds its edge. The first kill is easy. But once you’ve crossed that line, what happens when you’re finally given a reason to stop? And is that reason stronger than your appetite for wealth – and the resentment that’s fueled you this far?

John Patton Ford previously delivered the excellent Emily the Criminal in 2022 – an underrated, class-conscious thriller anchored by a fantastic Aubrey Plaza performance. While I still slightly prefer that film, How to Make a Killing is equally compelling in its own way. Like Emily, it’s deeply entertaining without ever feeling hollow. The screenplay remains character-first, even when the plot mechanics could have taken over, and that restraint is admirable.

Technically, this may be even more impressive than Ford’s previous effort. Todd Banhazl’s cinematography is gorgeous, with colors that practically glow, making the extravagant lifestyle Beckett covets feel intoxicatingly close. There’s striking use of shadows and blocking throughout, heightening the tension and moral murkiness. Emile Mosseri’s score is top-tier, giving the film a pulse that’s both playful and ominous. The editing also deserves praise for the way it navigates Beckett’s sprawling family tree without losing momentum.

My main gripe is that the film seems to set a ceiling for itself early on. Several of Beckett’s interactions with family members are cut just as they’re getting especially interesting. I would’ve happily sat through a longer cut to spend more time with these characters and their individual dynamics. The third act, while thematically consistent and admirably morally ambiguous, doesn’t quite capitalize on the chaos it builds. I respect the note it ends on (it feels appropriate) but I was left slightly underwhelmed rather than fully satisfied.

Still, this is a strong follow-up from John Patton Ford. He remains a director deeply invested in actors, building his narratives around complicated central figures rather than spectacle. And it feels like exactly the kind of material Powell is gravitating toward right now; films like The Running Man, Twisters, and this, that position him as a throwback movie star in a landscape that rarely makes room for them anymore. If he continues championing smart, character-driven projects that feel plucked from a near-extinct mid-budget era, I’m more than on board.