How To (NOT) Make ‘How To Make A Killing’

Decades of remakes, reboots, and reimaginings comprise a percentage of films in the industry. On one end of the spectrum, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures is most notorious for its recent live-action reimaginings of princess stories and other fantastical tales previously conveyed in the animated medium. On the other end are the constant remakes and reboots of horror film franchises, from John Carpenter and Debra Hill’s Halloween to Sean S. Cunningham and Victor Miller’s Friday the 13th—now renamed the “Jason Universe”—to Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead to Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street to Don Mancini’s Child’s Play/Chucky.

Somewhere in the middle of this spectrum lie redos of other films in the vast catalog of motion pictures. For example, Spike Lee has remade both Park Chan-wook’s South Korean film Oldboy and Akira Kurosawa’s Japanese film High and Low. The former proved disappointing, whereas the latter has been well-received by critics and audiences alike. The point is that committing to these certain projects results in hits or misses. In recent years, there has been worry of HBO remaking Bong Joon Ho and Han Jin-won’s Parasite for Western audiences. That only perpetuates the notion that the Hollywood machine isn’t entirely sure what to churn out and looks to other countries and their films for ideas.

How to Make Sacrifices

John Patton Ford’s How to Make a Killing, a reimagining of Robert Hamer and John Dighton’s 1949 British film, Kind Hearts and Coronets—itself loosely based on Roy Horniman’s 1907 novel, Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal—further tests this notion. The American film follows a blue-collar worker named Becket Redfellow (Glen Powell), who was born into an affluent bloodline but was disowned by his family and is urged to eliminate several blood relatives to reclaim his inheritance. This synopsis alone is enticing enough, especially in the wake of Jesse Armstrong’s Succession ending.

Fortunately, I never tire of watching and mentally dissecting films about the proletariat versus the bourgeoisie or about how human bodies must work to overcome those who rule over them. Yet, the stark disparity between Kind Hearts and Coronets and How to Make a Killing is felt in the latter. In the original film, several of the protagonist’s blood relatives were impeccably portrayed by the late Alec Guinness. Taking an alternative route for the reimagined project isn’t necessarily wrong. However, it does ask that multiple individual actors fill in these individual roles.

I would think that executive producer Powell, who has already done character work via costumed and hairstyled disguises in both Richard Linklater’s Hit Man and Edgar Wright and Michael Bacall’s The Running Man, could accomplish this feat. I mean, it’s not unlike Hollywood to produce titles narrated in this manner, e.g., Michael J. Fox in the Back to the Future trilogy, Eddie Murphy and Arsenio Hall in Coming to America, Temuera Morrison in the Star Wars franchise, Robert Pattinson in Mickey 17, Diane Kruger in The Shrouds, etc.

Ford’s Rhetoric

Here, the word choice finds difficulty in keeping up with Hamer and Dighton’s original. Compared to his Manhattan tailor job, Becket’s “I finally had a real job” line in reference to investment banking doesn’t quite align with the juxtaposition that the original establishes between a “job” and a “career”. In fact, this small narrative change redefines the class standards of how society views wealth. Considering the professional backgrounds of those surrounding him, it makes Becket sloppy in his approach to the top of the ladder.

Realistically, How to Make a Killing intelligently investigates the deaths in the Redfellow family. Kind Hearts and Coronets acknowledges this but fails to push it to the forefront. Becket’s interactions with childhood friend Julia Steinway (Margaret Qualley), love interest Ruth (Jessica Henwick), and the law redirect some external conflicts that Ford creates. Unfortunately, these would be acceptable if the film continued to highlight characters to care for.

The Redfellows as the Seven Deadly Sins

Appreciably, Ford’s film retains the in media res narration, with Becket confessing his sins to a visiting priest, Father James Morris (Adrian Lukis). Even from his last meal served on death row, the narrative teases the main character’s attempts to get what he wants in life. As with the D’Ascoyne family members in Kind Hearts and Coronets, each represents one of the seven deadly sins. Interestingly, Ford translates that thin type of development with the Redfellows.

How to Make a Killing‘s narrative ranges from sloth and gluttony in cousin Taylor Redfellow (Raff Law) being a nepo baby indulging in prescription pills and alcohol; pride in cousin Noah Redfellow’s (Zach Woods) wants, needs, and desires dismissing others; greed in Pastor Steven J. Redfellow (Topher Grace) taking his megachurch followers’ money—Druski portrayed this with larger risk involved—; and wrath in grandfather Whitelaw Redfellow (Ed Harris) being proud of his place in the family hierarchy.

Akin to Guinness’s banker uncle character, Lord Ascoyne D’Ascoyne, it’s nice to see that uncle/private investment bank proprietor Warren Redfellow (Bill Camp) doesn’t represent greed. At the same time, it’s tough to determine what Becket’s aunt Cassandra Redfellow (Bianca Amato)—picture Angelina Jolie but evil—and uncle McArthur Redfellow (Sean Cameron Michael)—picture Elon Musk but Elon Musk—represent. They aren’t allotted ample time to develop as supporting characters. Thus, the film’s overall ethos becomes confusing.

Vill You Vear Vigs?

Ford’s filmmaking as both screenwriter and director is questionable in this project. However, it further exposes the reality that he establishes in his 2010 short film, Patrol. The so-called American Dream holds various definitions depending on the individual. Regardless, it’s always challenging to reach. Once one gets there, the means of doing so often look messy. How to Make a Killing‘s production elements are perhaps a purposefully unsteady evidence of this. In contrast, Kind Hearts and Coronets is aesthetically simple and austere. Maybe that’s because World War II had ended and the Cold War had just begun.

Ford’s film is still political in a sense, although something about it appears bland. It could be makeup and hair designer Kerry Skelton’s use of atrocious wigs and hairstyling. Brunette doesn’t fit Qualley at this point in time. Grace’s role as a deceptive leader of the Lord’s Word is much more effective in Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman. Henwick completely stuns as the sole leading person of color. Her glittery dress complements the hair and makeup so well. It’s a shame that nobody else can live up to her brilliance.

To add, there’s a balance between good and bad in costume designer Jo Katsaras’s outfitting. Becket’s striped polo sweater during his first kill looks cheaply knit. In scenes between Becket and Noah, Powell and Woods’ respective “hipster” beanie and zip-up hoodie get-ups scream performative. Then again, they showcase how the main character’s fashion sense progresses from hideous at the start to luxurious by the end. Funnily enough, Becket’s investment banker suit is a keen reminder that one of Powell’s first acting credits as an adult was as a stock exchange trader in Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, and David S. Goyer’s The Dark Knight Rises.

Performances and Character Developments

With Mike Judge, John Altschuler, and Dave Krinsky’s Silicon Valley, Zach Woods gave a promising impression of what a fine-tuned performance is. As Noah Redfellow, he’s a noteworthy foil to Becket in terms of an uninformed perception of the world and what he chooses to believe. His studio apartment is one of production designer Christian Huband’s enticing set pieces. It’s one of the few instances wherein the environment matches the actor and their portrayal, excluding Woods’s chemistry with Henwick.

Moreover, Camp’s uncle Warren is sufficiently moving as a man who recognizes those around him. A24’s production notes describe him as someone who “exudes empathy and altruism … with a good heart”. That’s one way of putting it. The character is a potent parallel to Guinness’s Lord D’Ascoyne. Although, the former’s development is reasonably melodramatic as a father figure. His last words in the film are a great takeaway for audiences and facilitate a smooth transition for Becket’s character development from the second act to the final act.

The Leading Trio

Qualley’s role in the movie doesn’t feel as real as Joan Greenwood’s Sibella Hallward in the original film. She is present less despite Ford describing the character as akin to “the kind of femme fatale popular in the ‘30s and ‘40s”. My interpretation is that she’s more of a phantasm for Redfellow’s roots in innocence, poverty, and misery. She’s a reminder that comfort and love are within proximity. Julia Steinway personifies the protagonist’s conscience as well as the places it could bring him.

Henwick’s Ruth is a down-to-earth woman imbued with “a welcome humanity”. Her specific career path is bold, demonstrating that she isn’t living for money. This does grant the character more to do than Valerie Hobson’s Edith D’Ascoyne. However, it’s not quite copacetic within the confines of her relationship to Becket’s milieu.

Powell has grown into a seasoned professional in the past several years. As the narrator and the on-screen lead, Becket Redfellow is well-read. Even then, Ford’s script can only take the role so far. The actor and Qualley exchange some delightful line deliveries, especially in their penultimate scene. It’s a decent masterclass in histrionics for theater kids to study, what with lipstick on the glass.

Final Thoughts on How to Make a Killing

Rejecting humility and thus becoming the sinful antagonist of his own story, Becket Redfellow still makes strong arguments throughout. Money actually does buy happiness. It’s money that funds research for cancer, ALS, and other diseases. It’s money that keeps the lights on and ensures that no one is left alone. Ultimately, it’s money that either brings human beings together or tears them apart.

Ford’s directorial efforts in blending satirical dark comedy, romance, and dramatic thriller into one cross-genre film are tough work. A few intriguing moments are worth the price of admission, including the Willy Wonka-like climax. Sound editors Joakim Sundström, Arthur Graley, and Christer Melén’s clanging prison bars and the perceptible ticking clock’s hand play into the underlying theme of time, that it’s impossible to outrun fate.

How to Make a Killing is a satire of the United States’ rich households, their intricate family trees, and the different forms they take on. The film is nothing without its leading women, who are at the tip of the iceberg in making it a better end-product. Simply put, I might suggest going for the original instead…

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars