The Redfellow Legacy: Ambition Unleashed
How to Make a Killing stands out in today’s thriller landscape, blending cold-blooded ambition with pitch-black comedy and the kind of dysfunctional family drama that recalls the very best of A24 productions. The story centers on Becket Redfellow, played with nervy charisma by Glen Powell, whose quest for inheritance sends him down an increasingly violent and morally ambiguous path. From the outset, the film immerses viewers in a world where legacy isn’t just burdensome—it’s lethal.
A Descent Fueled by Desire and Betrayal
The family tree in How to Make a Killing is pruned by force, as Becket eliminates every relative between himself and the family fortune. In a move reminiscent of Shakespearean tragedies and the razor-sharp narratives seen in iconic series like Succession, each step Becket takes is another twist of the knife, both literal and figurative. Yet even after all the plotting and murder, a final betrayal lands him in prison—a crime he didn’t commit, but that stains him all the same.
Jessica Henwick delivers a quietly devastating performance as Ruth, embodying the rare voice of conscience in the Redfellow sphere. Her relationship with Becket is carved up by the violence, ending with her decisive exit—one the filmmakers argue modern audiences would demand. As Henwick herself reveals, seeing Ruth stand by Becket after his spree would ring hollow. Her departure strips Becket of any chance at genuine happiness, leaving him isolated despite his narrow escape from execution.
The Irony of «Victory»: What Becket Truly Wins
Director and writer John Patton Ford crafts an ending that defies conventional genre satisfaction. Powell’s Becket emerges from prison thanks to a rescue orchestrated by Julia Steinway (Margaret Qualley)—the real architect of the murder that condemned him. But rather than a triumphant reunion or shot at redemption, Becket’s freedom comes with a catch: Julia herself, as terrifying as she is cunning, is now his only companion. This is not the partnership he coveted, but the one he is left with as a result of his own moral bankruptcy.
Ford’s vision was nearly even more brutal. Early drafts featured an ending where, after Ruth gives birth to his child, Becket resolves to abandon her entirely and choose Julia, a decision cut for being ‘especially punishing’ to audiences. The shift to a more nuanced, bittersweet ending speaks to Ford’s intent to keep Becket’s arc complex—a man who technically gets what he wants, only to realize far too late it never brought real fulfillment.
Performances and the Subtle Art of Casting
Glen Powell’s casting is a brilliant subversion. With a natural charm and an ‘irrepressibly good’ disposition, Powell turns Becket into a relatable everyman, even as he commits increasingly horrifying acts. This deliberate contradiction, echoed by Ford, encourages the audience to root for a protagonist with no guiding ethical code, making Becket’s downfall all the more unsettling and impactful.
Margaret Qualley’s Julia is the film’s dark star—a character as magnetic as she is menacing. Her chemistry with Powell carries a disturbing sense of inevitability, transforming Julia from mere accomplice to the story’s true victor. Supporting turns by Ed Harris, Bill Camp, Topher Grace, and Zach Woods flesh out the Redfellow clan with equal parts gravitas and darkly comic energy.
Audience Fallout: Mixed Reception, Cult Classic Potential
Despite its genre pedigree and strong critical buzz, How to Make a Killing has polarized audiences and reviewers alike. Viewer scores hover in the positive range, with many drawn to the film’s refusal to moralize or hand down simplistic catharsis. Critics have been more divided, some finding the film’s clinical execution underwhelming compared to its baroque premise. Yet in a cinema landscape crowded with formula, Ford’s willingness to risk ambiguity and discomfort feels refreshing.
From its taut direction to its intricate character studies, How to Make a Killing is poised to stand as one of the boldest entries in recent thriller cinema—where every choice comes with a price, and happy endings are strictly off the table.
