How to Make a Killing

50 years after its release, 1949 crime comedy Kind Hearts and Coronets was listed among the best ten out of the BFI’s Top 100 British Films. The feature, loosely based on the 1907 novel Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal, now in turn serves as the source of an Americanised 2026 remake: How to Make a Killing.

An illegitimate scion to the affluent Redfellows, Becket (Glen Powell) grew up in squalor, far removed from their wealth. His mother never gave up hope of being reunited with them, seeing Becket welcomed into the family and claiming his rightful place as heir. When the olive branch is denied to her even in death, and she is laid to rest in a pauper’s grave, Becket resolves to take the proverbial pruning shears to the family tree.

The movie thrives on dark humour as Becket sets out on his deadly mission, becoming the latest instalment in the ongoing “Glen Powell dons various disguises” show (Hit Man, The Running Man, Chad Powers). Guiding the narrative, Becket’s voice-over plays a key role in setting the desired tone. Even as another character is revealed to be a diegetic listener to his story, this element serves to implicate the audience in the thrill of these crimes, almost positioning them as co-conspirators. The creative device faintly evokes the beginnings of Netflix hit show You, especially as the novel by Caroline Kepnes explored a similar milieu, as well as the double-edged sword of privilege.

Powell is perfectly cast in this role of a sympathetic villain; he’s too slick and handsome to be a believable good guy, but too charismatic to be truly despised. While modest-means moviegoers may naturally root for the underdog, the actor’s skill at captivating the audience certainly adds to the appeal of vicariously indulging in Becket’s wickedness.

The bizarre love triangle with Margaret Qualley and Jessica Henwick is where the film loses its brisk momentum. Although the effort to develop more compelling female characters than in the original is admirable, it thwarts the rest of the feature’s playfulness. Suddenly, the protagonist – and the viewer – is made to ponder why one never aims for modest dreams, why only the superlative seems good enough.

How to Make a Killing is a pitch-black comedy that feels like a throwback to films of this genre – even to its own detriment, as its vintage-tinted qualities also make it seem like a patchwork of earlier influences. The romantic entanglements somewhat slow down the perky tempo of the piece’s plunge into moral ambiguity, without sufficient reward. Nevertheless, John Patton Ford’s second feature ultimately delivers an enjoyable ride and boisterous experience for crime aficionados and Glen Powell fans.