Directed by Richard Linklater. Starring Glen Powell, Adria Arjona, Austin Amelio, Retta, Sanjay Rao, Molly Bernard, Evan Holtzman, Mike Markoff, Ritchie Montgomery, Kate Adair, Beth Bartley, Morgana Shaw, Richard Robichaux, Bryant Carroll, Stephanie Hong, Gralen Bryant Banks, Jonas Lerway, Murphee Bloom, KC Simms, Jordan Joseph, Joel Griffin, and Garrison Allen.
SYNOPSIS:
A professor moonlighting as a hit man of sorts for his city police department, descends into dangerous, dubious territory when he finds himself attracted to a woman who enlists his services.
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Exploring murder as a crime of passionate love, personalities altering across adulthood, who and what danger truly comes from, the spontaneous urge to hire a professional killer (with the mythology of the entire fake profession deconstructed and picked apart), and a study of how to balance the id and the ego, co-writer/director Richard Linklater’s Hit Man (loosely based on a true story magazine article from Skip Hollandsworth, and star Glenn Powell assisting with screenplay duties), this film is much more than the vehicle for sizzling chemistry founded on erotic danger material that its two leads kill with command.
Skillfully wading between genres, Hit Man begins as a situational comedy about boring philosophy studies college professor Gary Johnson (Glenn Powell), who returns home from work to feed his birds (also knowledgeable and obsessed with them) and cat while casually having dinner at a pathetic but hilariously constructed one-person dinner table inside a mostly empty kitchen. Gary also does sting operations undercover for the police on the side, except his role in those operations is promoted to the field once the temperamental Jasper (Austin Amelio) storms onto the scene complaining about cancer culture, having been suspended for physically attacking some teenagers who “deserved it ” on the job.
This allows Gary to become Ron, or rather, the “constantly aggressive,” hardened, cold-blooded killer who couldn’t be any more opposite from his otherwise nerdy, well-articulated, loner real self. Gary comes across as so lame that during a brief reunion with his ex-wife (Molly Bernard), she almost seems disappointed that their marriage was apparently so loveless he never entertained the idea of putting a hit out on her if things went south or generally killing for love.
Nevertheless, Gary finds within himself a more charismatic, twistedly imaginative, likable badass easily capable of easing strangers meeting him in random locations to lower their guard and incriminate themselves into premeditated murder over a wire. At the same time, we are consistently amused observing the cuckoo, zany individuals desperate enough to resort to such an arrangement under the impression it will fix all the problems. It is equally funny that Ron switches up his wardrobe to appeal to different types of people seeking his supposed service, experimenting more with finding his true identity.
However, what happens when someone (Adria Arjona) doesn’t just bring an envelope filled with money to the meeting but a genuinely depressing story about an abusive husband who possibly does deserve to be whacked? It’s a brilliant inversion of what we have been watching up until this point, switching the proceedings from comedy to the aforementioned superheated romantic thrills as fake hitman continues to enjoy the more positive perception people bestow upon him as Ron by using that false identity to get closer to this woman, named Madison, while also giving her some rules to adhere to regarding entering a relationship with a professional killer.
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That shift largely works due to the performances from Glenn Powell and Adria Arjona (who seems to have mostly had smaller roles in blockbusters until this breakthrough, revelatory performance), delivering lines with suave and seduction. Small physical tics in the performances elevate that magnetism, whether it be the opening of an alcoholic bottle mid-sentence and mid-stare, a perfectly timed and corny one-liner, or actors always aware of what the character should be feeling and how they should react in a given scene. There is a moment where Ron does encounter the toxic boyfriend (Evan Holtzman), instantly turning fearful but also regaining that composure the second her new boyfriend whips out a gun.
Most importantly, the snappy screenplay allows viewers to buy into the initially absurd idea that Madison would be comfortable around a killer, even if we know Gary/Ron has never actually done such a thing. She has been around someone legitimately abusive who has caused her immense emotional and psychological pain, so in her mind, how much worse could it be getting close to a professional killer if he is actually a compassionate human being to her outside that job? Ron even puts it to her in the best terms; he’s a people person outside this line of work.
Hit Man also has its share of convenient, strictly movie moments, although they never threaten to jeopardize or tear down the absorbing character work behind the simmering attraction. The third act does transition into a thriller where an actual murder is in the picture, which makes for a noticeable small drop off in the introspection on identity, but Richard Linklater and the company also find ways to make that refreshing and exhilarating, most notably in an electric sequence involving what amounts to role-play on top of role-play. More to the point, nearly every single moment of Hit Man, well, hits. It is high-voltage fun, armed with smarts, sexiness, showiness, and substance.
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Most people who have seen a few director Park movies will agree that he has one of the most creative and crazy minds out there. I’m happy to join the choir. This marks the 55-year-old filmmaker’s inaugural foray into the Black comedy subgenre, although we are cognizant of his cheekiness.
Director Park’s examination of the economic class structures in South Korea, as evidenced by Man-soo’s dismissal, is as bleak as it is in any other urbanized capitalist nation. It is, after all, based on an American novel, but it exploits this premise to build a powerful Black comedy. With No Other Choice‘s straightforward plot, he deconstructs the conventions of masculinity under a capitalistic umbrella through a kooky but always funny atmosphere. One equally funny and depressing recurring gag is post-firing affirmations that many of the unemployed former breadwinners use as an excuse to continue their self-pity wallowing. Man-soo’s dubious scheme reflects himself in his fellow compatriots, who share the same ill fate. They all neglect their loving families, becoming real-time losers to the significant impact of the capitalist culture on the common man. As the plot develops, Park explores the twisted but captivating development of this man regaining his sense of self and spine… You know, through murder.
As this social satire unfolds in dark, humorous ways, No Other Choice is a rare example of style and substance working together. Director Park throws every stylistic option he can at the wall, and almost everything sticks. Mainly because his imaginative lens – crossfades, dissolves, and memorable feats – is both visually captivating and enriching to Man-soo’s mission. The film encroaches on noir-thriller sensibilities, especially with its modern setting. Man-soo’s choices become more engrossing and inventive, proving timely even in its most familiar beats while personalizing every supporting character.
Director Park and his reunion with director of photography Kim Woo-hyung from The Little Drummer Girl execute a distinctive vision that flawlessly captures the screwball comedy archetype with its own rhythmic precision and stunning visuals, particularly in contrast to the picturesque autumnal backdrop. Compared to Decision to Leave, it’s more maximalist, but it still makes you think, “Wow, this is how movies should look.” Nevertheless, the meticulous framework and blocking in the numerous chaotic sequences impart a unique dark-comedic tone that evokes a classic comedy from the height of silent era cinema, albeit in stunning Technicolor.
In an exceptional leading performance, Lee Byung-hun channels his inner Chaplin.
Once again, critic A.S. Hamrah sheds perceptive light on our cinematic malaise.
The Algorithm of the Night: Film Criticism 2019-2025 by A.S. Hamrah. n + 1. 554 pages. $23
If film criticism – and film itself – survive the ongoing cultural, political, economic, and technological onslaughts they face, it will be due in part to writers like A. S. Hamrah. His latest collection (there are two, in fact; I have not yet read Last Week in End Times Cinema, but I am sure that it will also be the perfect holiday gift for the dystopic cinephile on your list) picks up where his previous book The Earth Dies Streaming left off, unleashing his savage indignation on today’s fatuous, lazy critical conversations and the vapid studio fodder that sustains it.
Not that it is all negativity. This inexhaustibly illuminating and entertaining assortment of reviews, essays, mordant Oscar roundups, and freewheeling, sui generis bagatelles first seen in such publications as n+1 (for which he is the film critic), The Baffler, the New York Review of Books, and the Criterion Collection is filled with numerous laudatory appreciations of films old and new — all of which you should watch or watch again. I was impressed with his eloquent, insightful praise for Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace (2018), his shrewd analysis of Abbas Kiarostami’s masterpiece A Taste of Cherry (1997) and its mixed critical reaction, and his reassessment of John Sayles’s neglected epic of class warfare Matewan (1987), among many others.
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Also not to be missed are Hamrah’s absurdist ventures into his personal life, many in theaters (or not in theaters, as when Covid shut them down in 2020), such as the time he observed a menacing attendee at a screening of 2010’s Joker. “It would be best to see [Joker] in a theater with a potential psychopath for that added thrill of maybe not surviving it,” he concludes. One strikingly admirable characteristic of Hamrah’s criticism is that he consciously avoids writing anything that could be manipulated by a studio into a banal blurb. You will find no “White knuckle thrill ride” or “Your heart will melt” or “A monumental cinematic experience” here.
The book does boast a bounty of blurbable bits, but they are not the kind that any publicist will put in an ad. These are laugh-out-loud takedowns of bad movies, vain filmmakers, and vapid performers. Some of my favorites among these beautiful barbs include his description of The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) as “[S]horter than Wakanda Forever by a whopping 47 minutes but still too long,” his dismissal of Jojo Rabbit (2019) as “combining Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson in the worst, cop-out ways,” and his exasperated take on Edward Berger’s 2022 remake of All Quiet on the Western Front (“What happened to the German cinema?”).
Film critic A. S. Hamrah — another inexhaustibly illuminating and entertaining assortment of writings on film. Photo: n+1 benefit.
He also displays the rare critical ability to reassess a director and give him his due. In his review of Berger’s 2024 Conclave, he admits that “Berger directs [it] like he is a totally different filmmaker than the one who made the 2022 version All Quiet on the Western Front. Unlike that film, this one is highly burnished and tightly wound.” (Watch out – close to blurb material there!)
The book ends with an apotheosis of the listicle called “Movie Stars in Bathtubs: 48 Movies and Two Incidents” in which Hamrah summarizes nine decades of cinema. It ranges from Louis Feuillade’s 1916 silent crime serial Les Vampires (“‘It is in Les Vampires that one must look for the great reality of our century’ wrote the surrealists Aragon and Breton”) to Brian De Palma’s 2002 neo-noir Femme Fatale (“There is a picture book called Movie Stars in Bathtubs, but there aren’t enough movie stars in bathtubs. De Palma’s Femme Fatale, which stars Rebecca Romijn, does much to correct that.”)
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Around the volume’s midpoint, Hamrah includes one of the two “incidents” of the title. In “1951: The first issue of Cahiers du Cinema” he celebrates the astonishing cadre of cinephiles, many of whom are depicted in Richard Linklater’s recent film Nouvelle Vague, who put out the publication that reinvented an art form. “Unlike critics today,” Hamrah points out, “these writers did not complain that they were powerless. They defended the movies they loved and excoriated the ones they hated. For them film criticism was a confrontation, its goal to change how films were viewed and how they were made.” It’s a tradition that Hamrah, who combines the personal point of view and cultural literacy of James Agee with the historical, contextualizing vision of J. Hoberman, triumphantly embraces.
Peter Keough writes about film and other topics and has contributed to numerous publications. He had been the film editor of the Boston Phoenix from 1989 to its demise in 2013 and has edited three books on film, including Kathryn Bigelow: Interviews (University Press of Mississippi, 2013) and For Kids of All Ages: The National Society of Film Critics on Children’s Movies (Rowman & Littlefield, 2019).
“This is one of the year’s best films, and one of the most distinctive,” said Matt Zoller Seitz in RogerEbert.com. An award winner at Cannes, the sixth feature from Brazilian writer-director Kleber Mendonça Filho is “a drama, a satire, an intriguingly laid-back espionage film, and a re-creation of a time and place,” yet that’s not all. Wagner Moura stars as a young widower on the run who returns to his home city to check on his young son in 1977, during Brazil’s brutal dictatorship. “Murder is everywhere,” a constant threat. But Mendonça is less focused on the violence than how people learn to adapt to it, and “if you’re willing to bend with the story, The Secret Agent will take you places movies rarely go.” Moura, whose character goes by the alias Marcelo, “carries the film with a star turn of suave determination,” said Richard Brody in The New Yorker.
But Mendonça has made a political thriller that’s “overflowing with sharply drawn characters,” including the elderly den mother of the safe house Marcelo moves into, a female neighbor who takes an interest in Marcelo, and a corrupt police chief. Mendonça’s wandering focus “brings history to life with bracing immediacy,” a feat all the more impressive because of his film’s “audacious twists of cinematic form,” including a hallucinatory sequence in which a severed human leg itself turns murderous. “The filmmaker’s refusal to present a traditional thriller payoff may frustrate some viewers,” said Nick Schager in The Daily Beast. Though it’s a surprising choice, “it’s in keeping with The Secret Agent’s depiction of the way in which dictatorships torment and destroy via denial.”
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‘Zootopia 2’
Directed by Jared Bush and Byron Howard (PG)
★★★
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“Sometimes more of the same isn’t a bad thing,” said Amelia Emberwing in The Wrap. The original Zootopia, after all, was a 2016 megahit that won the Oscar for an animated feature while delivering a powerful message about the dangers of discrimination. And while the long-awaited sequel doesn’t break new ground, “there’s a lot to love in Zootopia 2.” The movie returns us to a colorful city populated by anthropomorphized animals. Its animation is “bright and pop-y.” And it didn’t have to back off its core message to haul in $560 million in its first five days, the largest-ever launch for an animated film. Unfortunately, “the sweetness of the original is absent in the sequel,” said Soren Andersen in The Seattle Times.
Sure, it still features Judy the lovable bunny cop, and she’s paired again with Nick, a fox who’s learning to be less cynical, but this movie sags when the pair pause the action to analyze the state of their partnership. The rest of the time, the film “seeks to bowl the audience over with noise, velocity, and an insistent tone that winds up being kind of irritating.” But Zootopia 2 has “the kind of heart that has too long seemed to be missing from other Disney animated offerings,” said Kate Erbland in IndieWire. Not only is there real care put into developing Judy and Nick’s relationship, but this time the duo are also digging into a secret history that explains why there are no reptiles in their city, giving real weight to the film’s messaging. “That’s not to imply that Zootopia 2 isn’t funny, zippy, and highly enjoyable.” To me, it most certainly is.
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