Glen Powell is currently the busiest man in Hollywood for a reason. He’s got that rare, old-school movie star charisma that feels both effortless and calculated. Now, he’s leaning into something darker with How to Make a Killing. This isn’t just another thriller. It’s a story about how a family inheritance can turn ordinary people into monsters. If you’ve been following the industry trends in 2026, you know that the "prestige crime" genre is having a massive moment, and Powell is right at the center of it.
The film follows a desperate protagonist who discovers that a massive windfall isn’t just a ticket to a better life. It’s a catalyst for violence. Money does strange things to people. When you add the weight of family legacy and the bitterness of long-held grudges, things get messy fast. Powell plays a character pushed to the brink, proving he’s more than just the charming guy from Top Gun: Maverick or Anyone But You. He’s a chameleon who can play "dirty" with the best of them.
The Gritty Reality of Inheritance Noir
Most movies treat inheritance like a fairy tale. You get a call from a lawyer, you move into a mansion, and your problems disappear. How to Make a Killing flips that script. It treats wealth as a burden and a weapon. This concept taps into a very real psychological phenomenon. Behavioral economists often talk about "sudden wealth syndrome," where a massive influx of cash triggers paranoia, isolation, and poor decision-making.
In this story, the inheritance acts as a mirror. It reflects the darkest parts of the family’s history. You see characters who thought they were "good people" justifying horrific acts because they feel entitled to what’s "theirs." Powell’s performance anchors this descent. He moves from skepticism to greed to cold-blooded pragmatism in a way that feels uncomfortably relatable. We all like to think we’d stay the same if we stumbled onto millions. This movie suggests otherwise.
Why the Powell and Benedict Fitzgerald Pairing Works
Director Benedict Fitzgerald brings a specific, tactile grit to this project. He doesn't go for flashy, over-the-top action. Instead, he focuses on the tension in a quiet room. The cinematography uses heavy shadows and a muted palette that makes the Texas setting feel both vast and claustrophobic.
Powell has a specific kind of energy that fits this environment. He’s athletic and capable, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that suggests he’s in over his head. That’s the "Powell Magic." You want him to win even when he’s doing something objectively terrible. It’s a tricky tightrope to walk. If the lead is too likable, the stakes feel low. If they’re too villainous, the audience checks out. Fitzgerald finds the sweet spot by making the "dirty deeds" feel like a series of logical, albeit tragic, choices.
The Evolution of the Texas Crime Thriller
Texas has always been a character in American cinema. From No Country for Old Men to Hell or High Water, the landscape dictates the morality. How to Make a Killing leans into this tradition but updates it for a modern audience. It deals with the death of the small-town dream and the desperation that comes when the only way out is through someone else’s blood.
What’s interesting is how the film handles the "family" aspect. These aren't strangers fighting over a briefcase of cash. These are people who shared Thanksgiving dinners. The betrayal hurts more because it’s intimate. The dialogue is sharp and sparse. It avoids the long, winding monologues that often plague "prestige" scripts. People say what they mean, or they don't say anything at all. The silence does a lot of the heavy lifting.
Beyond the Leading Man
While Powell is the draw, the supporting cast provides the friction. You have veteran actors playing the older generation—people who have spent decades burying the secrets that Powell’s character is now digging up. Their performances remind us that the corruption didn't start with this inheritance. It was always there, simmering under the surface of "family values" and "hard work."
The pacing of the film is relentless. It starts as a slow burn and then accelerates into a chaotic third act that leaves you breathless. It’s a masterclass in escalating stakes. Every time you think the characters have hit rock bottom, the floor drops out again.
What This Means for Glen Powell’s Career
This role marks a shift. Powell is moving away from the "Golden Boy" archetype and into the "Complicated Anti-Hero" phase. It’s a smart move. It gives him longevity. By showing he can handle "dirty deeds," he’s opening doors to roles that require more than just a winning smile. He’s becoming the go-to guy for roles that require a blend of physical presence and emotional depth.
If you’re looking for a movie that challenges your assumptions about morality and family, this is it. It’s dark, it’s mean, and it’s incredibly well-executed. Don’t expect a happy ending where everyone learns a lesson and goes home. That’s not the world this movie lives in.
Check your local listings or streaming platforms for release dates in your region. If you’re a fan of neo-noir or just want to see Powell at the top of his game, don't skip this one. It’s the kind of film people will be dissecting for years, especially when it comes to how we view wealth and the "American Dream" in the mid-2020s.
