The success of Hit Man, Richard Linklater’s new comedy that has garnered glowing reviews heralding Glen Powell’s emergence as a true movie star, largely boils down to one factor: illicit attraction. It’s the kind that powers fantasies and a good portion of human behavior, whether we’d like to admit it or not.
There’s the pull of Powell’s Gary, a nerdy thirtysomething psychology professor in New Orleans, moonlighting as an undercover impersonator of hired killers, trying on different, more confident identities for size. There’s the longstanding, vicarious thrill of watching ethically dubious protagonists flitter through a well-oiled crime caper. And most especially, there’s the heat between Gary, in disguise as a suave hitman, and Adria Arjona’s Madison, a potential client with whom he has the type of identity-incinerating sex that leads to cocooning in a townhouse and making unwise choices.
