Glen Powell as Beckett Redfellow in “How to Make a Killing.” (Image Courtesy of A24 Press)
Can money buy happiness? The big question everyone has debated is pushed to the extreme in the new movie from A24 and director John Patton Ford. This new thriller-comedy movie starring Glen Powell explores family loyalty, ambition, and just how far someone is willing to go for wealth. To state it plainly, “How to Make a Killing” had me routing for the murderer.
Becket Redfellow, played by Powell, is in line for a $28 billion fortune heir, but a few family members stand in the way of him and that money. Unlike the rest of his wealthy family, Becket Redfellow grew up without any privilege. His mother was disowned at 18 after becoming pregnant with him, losing access to her father’s fortune overnight. What she lacked in money she made up for in encouragement, drilling one lesson into her son: never give up. Unfortunately, Becket takes that advice to a chilling extreme once he realizes what separates him from unimaginable wealth.
The film opens with Becket in jail, recounting his story to both a priest and the audience. Through flashbacks, we watch a trail of calculated murders, lavish funerals, betrayals and twisted romances unfold. The structure works, starting at the end builds tension and makes every move feel inevitable.
One of Becket’s first victims is Taylor Redfellow, a privileged swimmer who flaunts his wealth. Becket attaches an anchor to him, ensuring he drowns. It’s absurd, theatrical and darkly funny in a way that sets the tone for the rest of the film. But the murder raises suspicion, particularly from Julia, played by Margaret Qualley.
Julia, a childhood friend who seems to understand Becket’s plan before he fully admits it to himself, represents greed in its purest form. She is unapologetic, power-hungry and disturbingly practical, even willing to get her own hands dirty. Qualley leans into the character’s cold ambition, making Julia deeply unlikable but impossible to ignore. She’s the devil on Becket’s shoulder, constantly nudging him toward bigger risks and bigger rewards.
In contrast, Jessica Henwick’s Ruth acts as the moral counterweight. A teacher who values emotional fulfillment over financial success, Ruth questions the very premise driving the film. Her line, “It’s just scary to dream small. Nobody teaches you how to do that” lands as one of the movie’s most effective moments. She also says, “They all want to be billionaires, but none of them want an actual job,” a pointed critique that feels less like dialogue and more like social commentary. Henwick gives Ruth warmth and sincerity, grounding a film that could otherwise spiral into caricature.
What makes “How to Make a Killing” so entertaining is its balance between absurdity and genuine tension. The premise is outrageous, a man systematically eliminating his family members while attending their funerals in designer suits, yet the suspense feels real. The film never becomes overly grim or self-serious, and the humor prevents the violence from overwhelming the story.
Powell’s performance is the film’s anchor. He brings charm and vulnerability to a morally bankrupt character, which is unsettling in the best way. At times, I caught myself rooting for him despite the body count, a testament to Powell’s ability to blur the line between antihero and villain.
The film holds up a mirror to society’s obsession with wealth. We are conditioned early to equate success with money, and the movie pushes that idea to its most extreme conclusion. Twenty-eight billion dollars is more than life-changing, it’s legacy-defining. But the film suggests that the pursuit of that security can hollow a person out long before they ever see the money.
It’s hard not to think about real-world examples, lottery winners whose lives unravel under sudden wealth, families torn apart by inheritance battles, friendships strained by status and power. Money can solve problems, but it also creates new ones, and often more destructive ones.
“How to Make a Killing” doesn’t offer easy answers. Instead, it leaves audiences sitting with uncomfortable questions: Would you sacrifice your morals for financial freedom? Is generational wealth worth generational damage? And is happiness something you can buy or something you destroy while trying?
Now in theaters, this thriller-comedy is sharp, unsettling and surprisingly funny. It’s perfect for anyone who has ever wondered whether being rich would actually make life better or simply more problematic.
Contact CU Independent Senior Arts Editor Lou Leclercq at louison.leclercq@colorado.edu
