Hit Man

Gareth Higgins on HIT MAN

I don’t know what to make of Richard Linklater’s Hit Man. Co-written with and starring Glen Powell, it’s a either a satire or a horror film (in which case it’s profound), or a romantic comedy with a harsh edge (in which case it’s a nightmare). I can’t tell which, and that in itself may be a reflection of Linklater’s quiet and magnificent talent, or a reminder that sometimes great artists have bad days.

Linklater has long been one of the two or three US American directors whose work I look forward to the most. I can happily revisit his subtly glorious Before Trilogy (three films taking place and made over nearly two decades in the life of a love affair) and its cousin Boyhood (twelve years in the life of one kid and his family); and his Last Flag Flying is the rare sequel whose only connection to the progenitor (The Last Detail) is the source material, but which is so good that it actually makes the predecessor a more interesting film. Linklater’s wry and shaggy sensibility covers a wide range of subjects and is typically compassionate toward people in a wide range of circumstances. Part of the Linklater signature is that there are usually no “bad guys”, just challenging circumstances. Everyone has their reasons (and as one of his titles has it, everybody wants some), but until now, those reasons had rarely been used to justify something as awful as the behavior of the protagonist in Hit Man.