Hit Man review: Killer chemistry meets existential examination

Hit Man, the twenty-third feature film from Lone Star State cinematic maverick Richard Linklater, is the second to be based on reporting that originally appeared in Texas Monthly. The first, Bernie mined from a 1998 article by journalist Skip Hollandsworth (co-writer of the resulting screenplay) exploring the murder of an octogenarian millionaire by the town mortician. The act of killing is a concerted focus of Linklater’s latest, but this time the protagonist must operate under the guise that he is capable of murder.

Written by Linklater and star Glen Powell, Hit Man is loosely based on Hollandsworth’s 2001 profile of Gary Johnson, a Houstonian working under contract with the police as a faux hitman, busting citizens who desire life-snuffing services. Powell embodies Johnson, also an adjunct psychology and philosophy professor at a New Orleans community college (the original Texas setting swapped for sensible tax credit reasons). First only sought after by NOPD for his tech-savviness, Gary is thrown into full-blown undercover action when the force’s usual “contract killer,” Jasper (Austin Amelio), is put on 120 days of “bullshit” paid leave after assaulting unarmed teenagers.

Initially uncomfortable in the forward-facing role, Gary surprises the team—and himself—with how quickly he slips into character to bust the bad guy. He immediately becomes the force’s go-to, adapting to each new client via rudimentary, if convincing, regalia that transform his khaki-clad, unassuming visage into that of a fictional killer. “I had a knack for being the person they needed me to be,” Gary says during a winning montage of comedic killer costumes and the resulting mugshots of those he entraps.

Naturally, his “primary interest” in human psychology is what makes him successful at his new gig; what he’s less adept at, however, is clocking his own shifting sense of self, particularly when the beautiful Madison (Adria Arjona) reaches out to put a hit on her husband. Disguised as the suave “Ron,” Gary meets Madison with the intention of implicating her. Sensing the desperation provoked by her husband’s abuse—and mutual attraction—he persuades Madison to take the money she’d use for the “hit” to start a new life.

After several weeks, Madison and “Ron” meet again; she declares that she’s newly divorced, owing her freedom to his candid advice. Sparks continue to fly between the two, partly because of Madison’s fascination with “Ron’s” illicit occupation, and they begin a sexual relationship. While Gary might be lying to Madison about his milquetoast true identity, his lover might not be telling the whole truth herself.

Much of the hype for Hit Man stems from Powell and Arjona’s crackling chemistry, so integral to the plot that their character development largely unfolds during sex scenes (leaving little room for discourse about whether these encounters are “gratuitous”). While the notion that Hit Man contains the “first sex scene” in a Linklater film isn’t necessarily true (and has been denied by the director), viewers aren’t totally wrong to note that it approaches sex differently than his other works: Dazed and Confused dabbles in the navigation of budding libidos; Everybody Wants Some!! revolves around horny college freshmen trying to get laid, but it’s hardly about experiencing genuine connection; the Before trilogy, conversely, finds its innate sexiness from anticipatory arousal.

When the news broke back in September that Netflix acquired Hit Man out of TIFF, so did a fervent debate concerning whether the streamer would be a fitting home for it. Although a limited theatrical release preceded the film’s streaming debut, those lucky enough to experience Hit Man during its festival run noted how well it played with an audience. However, this is overwhelmingly true of Linklater fare, which regularly appears as fodder for repertory midnight screenings and marathon programming. This partnership is also far from unprecedented, with his previous effort, Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood, also landing at Netflix. Even earlier this year, the director had another straight-to-streaming release: a feature-length episode of the HBO docu-series God Save Texas.

These two projects were critically lauded, but underseen. There’s more of an explanation for that when considering the episode “Hometown Prison” (Linklater has only taken on non-fiction work once before, with his ESPN documentary Inning by Inning: A Portrait of a Coach), but his animated, semi-autobiographical 2022 film feels very in-line with what fans love about his movies. In contrast, Hit Man has drummed up considerable buzz, puzzling if only because its polished narrative and visual leanings feel somewhat removed from the introspective impulse that makes a Linklater film feel keenly personal.

This departure is possibly due to Powell’s own creative interests, which aren’t necessarily inferior, but do cause Hit Man to skew more commercial in tone. After all, his resume as an actor, producer and screenwriter increasingly caters to a movie star image by way of major studios, with an emphasis on existing IP: Twisters, Top Gun: Maverick, The Expendables 3, a long-stalled Captain Planet remake he’s attached to write, produce and star in. Even when portraying Gary as a “dork” at the top of the film, Powell isn’t fooling anyone; you can feel his leading man allure bubbling just under the surface.

When Linklater has worked with star actors in the past (Ethan Hawke, Matthew McConaughey, Jack Black), he’s been able to provoke performances hinged on genuine insecurity, creepiness, and/or arrested development. This doesn’t mean Linklater was unable to evoke this from Powell, but rather the actor’s involvement in developing the screenplay may have encouraged him to over-rely on his natural magnetism. Perhaps if the real-life Gary Johnson had made it on set—he died shortly before filming, meaning Powell never met him—certain quirks or characteristics could have added a greater depth of humanity to the movie.

The next two publicly announced Linklater projects, the black-and-white, French-language Breathless making-of flick Nouvelle Vague and a 20-years-in-the-making adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s Merrily We Roll Along, tease the promise of filmic experimentation that the director has been engaged with since his career origins. While Hit Man satiates as a slick, sexy comedy-noir that will actually get at-home viewers to engage with media outside of the dreaded algorithm, it’s worth hoping that Linklater’s forthcoming big swings are met with similar zeal.