Chris Hemsworth as James Davis in "Crime 101" and Glen Powell as Becket Redfellow in "How to Make a Killing."
Call it the “Law and Order” effect. There's an undeniable pull to tales of cops and robbers that present an unlawful act and follow its ripple effects until you learn the consequences. These cause-and-effect arcs can prove mighty hard to resist, despite or perhaps because of their conventional nature.
And then there are other stories, about glamorous thieves and bumbling murderers, that tweak this formula. They ask viewers to root for those on the wrong side of the law. Some of them are dead serious, anchored by the gravity of the characters and the high stakes involved. Others mine uneasy laughs out of the misdeeds being committed for your viewing pleasure.
Two new releases out now in theaters explore both sides of this coin. One is a sleek Los Angeles noir with more than a tip of the hat to a revered action auteur. The other, a dark comedy set on the East Coast, goes further back in Tinseltown's past for its inspirations. Both film feature handsome A-listers in starring roles, orbited by other famous faces who know a thing of two about stealing. Scenes, that is.
Court is in session, and this time, I'm the state prosecutor. It's time to state my case.
Bill Camp as Warren Redfellow in a scene from "How to Make a Killing." (Photo by Ilze Kitshoff, courtesy of A24)
“How to Make a Killing”: Contempt for the rich is the driving force behind this perverse little number from “Emily the Criminal” writer-director John Patton Ford. Problem is, it plays like the brainchild of a film school nerd convinced they're actually the popular jock. Such cocky arrogance doesn't scream empathy for the working class.
The bulk of this A24 release plays in flashback, as Becket Redfellow (Glen Powell) sits on death row and confesses his trespasses to a priest (Adrian Lukis) several hours before he is set to be executed. The Cliffs Notes version: Becket is the son of Mary (Nell Williams), an heiress from New York high society who was disowned by her dad, Whitelaw (Ed Harris, spending much of the movie shrouded in shadows), after she ended up pregnant by a mere commoner. Mom dies young, leaving Becket at the mercy of the foster care system, but on her deathbed, Becket promises he will pursue her family's massive fortune. He's confident it will be his. Someday. Eventually.
Margaret Qualley as Julia Steinway in a scene from "How to Make a Killing." (Photo credit: Ilze Kitshoff. Courtesy of A24)
Flash forward to the adult Becket, who runs into childhood crush Julia Steinway (Margaret Qualley). A perpetual tease, Julia asks Becket about the Redfellow fortune, but he tells her about the obstacles blocking his way: seven relatives who are vaguely aware of his existence and have refused to lift a finger to help him. Faster than you can say “ulterior motives,” she plants the seed for his scheme, quipping he'll just have to bump off all of them.
“Killing” then lives up to its name, following Becket as he stumbles his way into a killing spree. At the same time, he receives a lifeline from his uncle, Warren (the esteemed, prolific Bill Camp), a rare good egg in the Redfellow clan. That lifeline comes in the form of a job in finance straight out of “The Wolf of Wall Street.” Only, you know, lacking that film's swagger and bite.
Becket feels like a role tailor-made for Powell, whose wholesome, boy-next-door persona has an undercurrent of jerkitude, but Ford leans way too heavily on the character's voiceover narration. Its cadences and timbre are awfully reminiscent of another star, George Clooney, who would have definitely been cast in a role like this in the late '90s/early '00s. But the charm that Powell has shown in prior star vehicles is here supplanted by a self-satisfied smugness. His face is so waxy he looks like a mannequin, his character's chip on his shoulder all too often reduced to a knowing smirk. We're supposed to empathize with this blank of an upwardly mobile sociopath, yet the “Anyone But You” and “Hit Man” star elicits zero desire to give him the time of day, let alone buy him a drink.
Jessica Henwick as Ruth in a scene from "How to Make a Killing." (Photo by Ilze Kitshoff, courtesy of A24)
The bigger issue that's “Killing's” undoing is one of tone. Ford is adapting “Israel Rank: The Autobiography of a Criminal,” the 1907 novel that was also the basis for “Kind Hearts and Coronets,” a 1949 British crime comedy starring Alec Guinness. It's safe to say Ford lacks the sophistication of that Ealing Studios production. He attempts to thread the needle between gallows humor and a more sobering cautionary tale, trying to wring laughs out of the casual, predominantly offscreen dispatchings of filthy rich folks.
Simultaneously, he also wants viewers to feel for Becket, not just for the bad hand life has dealt him, but for his budding romance with Ruth (Jessica Henwick), the girlfriend of his cousin Noah (Zach Woods). The tonal cacophony, alas, goes over as well as when you mix milk and orange juice.
The filmmaker's stabs at dark humor land with a thud, and he doesn't show enough commitment for his takedown of the wealthy and entitled to resonate. He whittles “How to Make a Killing” down to a silly cat-and-mouse game pitting Becket against Julia's calculating femme fatale, and in so doing, turns her character into a vain caricature with a not-so-faint whiff of misogyny. It's a waste of Qualley's comedic chops, which bring to mind the women in Preston Sturges' screwball comedies.
Black comedies are the trickiest of funny movies to pull off. They can't feel like they're trying too hard. Alas, Ford attacks the genre with brute force. It's a painful sophomore slump after his sharp feature directing debut with “Emily.” It also shows Powell's star beginning to dim after this stumble and his even more underwhelming work in Edgar Wright's thoroughly disappointing remake of “The Running Man” this past fall. Here's hoping Ford and Powell are able to shake this downward trend, because the feeble “Killing” trips them up like that klutzy debutante who takes a tumble down a flight of stairs.
Corey Hawkins as Detective Tillman and Mark Ruffalo as Detective Lou Lubesnick in a scene from "Crime 101." (Photo by Dean Rogers, courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios)
“Crime 101”: Cool Los Angeles nights, even cooler people and the allure of pilfering pretty, expensive things while leaving police chasing their tails. In writer-director Bart Layton's glossy West Coast caper, the good crook's a gentleman of few words, and the bad crook's a hot mess who wallows in chaos. There's also a good cop who's fighting institutional corruption, as well as a resourceful businesswoman who brings them all together.
More importantly, the dial is set to Radio Michael Mann, 24/7. Michael Mann, all the time, everywhere you look. Layton (“American Animals”) may be adapting a Don Winslow novella for the screen, but he is also erecting a shrine for the celebrated director behind “Thief,” “Heat,” the digitally lensed “Miami Vice” with Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx, “The Last of the Mohicans” and, more recently, the underseen “Ferrari.”
Nothing wrong with hero worship, if the results prove worthy of the master who has brought together cinephiles from different corners of moviedom since the 1970s. But this is a tribute-band homage that falls short, essentially turning a Rolls-Royce into a Lexus with cloth seats and plastic cupholders. It's been called “Diet Heat,” and I can't argue with that succinct appraisal.
Chris Hemsworth as James Davis in a scene from "Crime 101." (Photo credit: Dean Rogers. Courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios)
And yet, “Crime 101,” which stands for its back-to-basics depiction of wrongdoing and the U.S. highway that stretches across L.A., has a fair share of bright spots, beginning with its attractive cast. Chris Hemsworth stars as James Davis, a jewel thief with an ironclad, no-one-gets-hurt code and a knack for pulling off heists and vanishing into the night.
When one of his victims during a diamond hit pulls a gun on him, it rocks James to his foundation. His underworld boss, known as Money (Nick Nolte), senses his longtime employee's hesitation, so he hires gonzo hothead Ormon (Barry Keoghan, who also starred in “American Animals”) to take over the next hit behind his back. But unlike James, Ormon is an agent of destruction who lacks the discipline and restraint needed to keep doing this shady line of work without getting caught.
Hot on his trail, somewhat, is LAPD Detective Lou Lubesnick (a grizzled Mark Ruffalo, rocking a paintbrush mustache). The law enforcement vet is certain that the thing tying all these seemingly unrelated thefts is U.S. Route 101, a theory that both his skeptical partner, Detective Tillman (well played by Corey Hawkins) and his superiors view with skepticism.
Halle Berry as Sharon Colvin in a scene from "Crime 101." (Photo by Dean Rogers, courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios)
On the nicer side of the City of Angels, insurance broker Sharon Colvin (Halle Berry) has had it up to here with her firm to which she's given over a sizable chunk of her career, because they continue to postpone that talk about making her partner. She's too calm and collected to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown; the soothing voice of her yoga instructor plays on the movie's soundtrack as she goes about another disappointing day. And yet she's beginning to unravel all the same.
There's a good idea here. A genre exercise propelled by its characters' disenchantment with their lives would be a ripping yarn under the right conditions. Unfortunately, “Crime 101” is hampered at nearly every story beat by a robotic, mechanical script with the appeal of an electronics user's manual. Layton leeches any trace of spontaneity; the results are more ChatGPT than LAPD.
For instance, when a socially awkward James talks Maya (Monica Barbaro), a publicist who rear-ends his vintage ride, into going on a date with him, their banter just doesn't ring true. It's an approximation of what real people would say to one another, spelling out things that are plain to see.
Barry Keoghan as Ormon in a scene from "Crime 101." (Photo by Dean Rogers, courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios)
The only part of “Crime 101” that feels lived-in are the scenes where Berry and Ruffalo share the screen. Their rapport feels natural, unforced, whereas the rest is a wan facsimile of Mann's greatest hits. Nolte, a shell of his former self, is off his game, saddled with a by-the-numbers villain part, and there are few things sadder than seeing the great Jennifer Jason Leigh utterly wasted as Lou's estranged wife.
Layton also fumbles the all-important climactic confrontation, settling for an aggressively sunny resolution that feels wholly unearned. To be fair, before he drops the ball, he capably juggles all his narrative and thematic elements, and at 140 minutes, the film doesn't feel too long. It also comes across as a movie within a movie that characters in a better film about the gray areas between good and evil would watch to pass the time. Ah, time. “Crime 101,” too often cruising on autopilot, ends up stealing ours.
“How to Make a Killing” and “Crime 101” are now playing across South Florida in wide release, including at AMC Aventura, AMC Sunset Place, CMX Brickell City Centre, CMX Cinemas Dolphin 19, Regal Kendall Village and Regal Dania Pointe.
