The satire How to Make a Killing, directed by John Patton Ford and starring Glen Powell, debuts in theaters on February 20, 2026, offering a modern commentary on wealth, class, and the elusive American dream. Set in present-day New York City, the film reimagines the narrative of class struggle and social climbing through a darkly comedic lens, highlighting the harsh realities behind contemporary wealth disparity.
A Modern Reinterpretation of a Classic Story
Once regarded as attainable, the American dream of prosperity and comfort has increasingly become out of reach for younger generations, especially millennials and those born after them. Instead of rewarding hard work, this dream now seems to celebrate selfishness and vanity, often amplified by social media fame or inherited privilege. How to Make a Killing confronts these themes head-on by adapting the storyline of the 1949 British black comedy Kind Hearts and Coronets, itself based on Roy Horniman’s novel Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal.
While the original film arose from the Edwardian era’s rigid English class system, Ford’s adaptation repositions the plot in today’s New York, exposing the United States’ persistent social hierarchies and wealth inequality. The story chronicles a revenge-fueled ascent through a powerful family’s ranks, casting a critical eye on American aristocracy and nepotism disguised as meritocracy.
Glen Powell Leads a Talented Ensemble Cast
At the center of the film is Glen Powell as Becket Redfellow, the disinherited heir determined to reclaim his birthright. Becket’s late mother, Mary (played by Nell Williams), was cast out from her wealthy Long Island family after choosing love with a musician over wealth, leading the ruthless Redfellow matriarch, Whitelaw (Ed Harris), to sever ties with her. Raised with the veneer of upper-class sophistication in suburban New Jersey, Becket vows to avenge his mother’s rejection and secure the family fortune.
Seizing inspiration from Julia (Margaret Qualley), a former school crush who casually suggests the family wealth could be his if the other heirs disappear, Becket embarks on a secret killing spree. As he eliminates relatives one by one, he also climbs within the family’s investment firm under the shadow of nepotism, blending ambition with cold calculation.
Unlike the original’s Alec Guinness, who famously portrayed multiple doomed relatives, Ford distributes the roles among a stellar ensemble cast. Supporting Powell are Jessica Henwick, who plays Becket’s schoolteacher love interest, Bill Camp as a compassionate uncle, and Zach Woods, Topher Grace, Bianca Amato, Raff Law, and Sean Cameron Michael as various other members of the Redfellow family. Despite the strong collective performances, the film unquestionably revolves around Powell, whose portrayal perfectly balances arrogance and vulnerability, capturing the film’s satirical essence.
A Satire That Favors Subtle Irony Over Broad Humor
Viewers anticipating a straightforward comedy might need to adjust expectations, as How to Make a Killing embraces a more nuanced, intellectually sharp satire rather than a laugh-out-loud experience. John Patton Ford channels a tone closer to what might be considered Kubrickian in its restraint, privileging subtle irony and atmospheric tension over overt jokes or slapstick.
This tonal choice creates an interesting, though occasionally uneven, mix of moods among the cast. While Margaret Qualley and Ed Harris deliver performances heavy with noir-inspired gravity, actors like Zach Woods and Topher Grace lean into caricature, creating moments that sometimes feel tonally disjointed. However, this blend of gravitas and exaggeration serves to underscore the absurdity of the social circles depicted.
The film’s depiction of murder follows this vein, favoring understated, almost incidental acts over graphic violence. The killings carry a dry wit reminiscent of the original Kind Hearts and Coronets, emphasizing dark comedy rather than horror or brutality. This approach may appeal to audiences who appreciate light yet intelligent dark humor, though it might disappoint those expecting a more biting or visceral critique of wealth and privilege.
Ford’s direction consciously avoids the extreme discomfort found in Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite or the genre intensity of recent “kill the rich” films such as Ready or Not. The closest parallel is Glen Powell’s nod to a Patrick Bateman-esque aesthetic from American Psycho, which serves more as thematic inference than a prelude to violence—a stylistic choice that aligns with the film’s restrained bite.
John Patton Ford Crafts a Thought-Provoking Commentary on Wealth
Although How to Make a Killing may not fully capitalize on its comedic possibilities, it remains a potent satire that critiques modern wealth and entitlement with intelligence and subtlety. Ford’s debut feature, 2022’s Emily the Criminal, explored crime grounded in realistic motives and gritty circumstances. In contrast, this film, while more stylized, replicates that grounded perspective by treating Becket’s world as plausible, revealing the social machinery behind privilege and greed.
Glen Powell’s narrative voice guides the story through flashbacks, lending it a sense of introspection. His character evokes comparisons to antiheroes like Saul Goodman or Michael Corleone—figures who inhabit morally ambiguous spaces, embodying the tension between ambition and personal identity. Becket appears to pursue a version of the American dream that ultimately traps him within a dangerous persona.
Ford’s most compelling achievement is the multifaceted critique he offers of the American dream. Rather than simplifying the divide between the wealthy and the less fortunate, the film acknowledges systemic complexities and the corrosive effects of wealth. It challenges viewers by revealing how both the privileged and those aspiring to wealth become ensnared in cycles of self-deception and moral compromise.
By operating as a slowly unfolding poison rather than a blunt attack, How to Make a Killing leaves audiences pondering the deep sickness within individuals and society that allows such inequity to persist. It is as sly as it is unsettling, marking the film as an insightful addition to contemporary cinematic discussions about class, identity, and power.
/Film Rating: 7 out of 10
