Richard Linklater’s latest is a jaunty action comedy that spins its machine-tooled high concept like a bicycle wheel – sometimes with shrewd intent, sometimes for pure fun. Loosely based on a longform true-crime article by Skip Hollandsworth, it follows the fortunes of Gary Johnson, a fake contract killer for the New Orleans police department, setting up stings in cheap diners while the cops wait outside. In the hands of a lesser director, Hit Man would surely have felt rather thin and disposable. But Linklater is a pro, and he manages to make the film’s fripperies feel borderline profound.
Glen Powell (who co-wrote the script with the director) plays Gary, a mild-mannered philosophy professor who leads an exotic double life. Off campus he’s Ron, cool and imposing, luring would-be criminals to their doom. These people sidle up to him with their tales of faithless wives and abusive husbands, but as soon as the deal has been struck, the cops slap on the handcuffs. Gary, of course, hasn’t the faintest idea about the assassination business, but like every good actor, he is happy to improvise. So he’ll explain that he avoids leaving evidence by putting a stick of dynamite in the victim’s mouth and drops severed fingers from his car window at regular five-mile intervals. The fact that these people are willing to swallow this bull only goes to show how dumb and desperate most of his clients are.
