“Hit Man” (2023) Review – Nerd, Lies, and Videotape

dir. Richard Linklater

An article about a philosophy professor, two cats, a bunch of wigs, and a fake German accent walks into a 20MM Netflix contract. And somehow it is transformed into this genre-hopping fever dream that thinks it’s a rom-com but occasionally moonlights as a sexy noir thriller, then abruptly remembers it’s supposed to be a comedy and trips over its own tone.

You got that? Re-read twice before proceeding. With caution.

The Premise, in case you missed it while blinking:

Gary Johnson (Glen Powell) is a mild-mannered ethics professor by day and a part-time tech guy for the New Orleans PD by… also day. One fine afternoon, someone says “Why not throw the nerd into the field?” and suddenly Gary is impersonating hit men to trap idiots trying to outsource their murders. Surprisingly, he’s amazing at it. Disturbingly good at it. You start to wonder if he missed his real calling - or if years of campus politics, budget cuts, and and watching the administration rename ‘office hours’ to ‘safe dialogue zones finally cooked his brain

Each “hit man” he embodies is custom-fit to the client: leather-jacket Ron for the damsels, unwashed anarchist for the anti-capitalists, cold-blooded German for people who watched too much Die Hard. He becomes the department’s Swiss Army sociopath.

Just when Gary’s getting comfortable cosplaying murder for a paycheck, Madison waltzes in - a hot, mysterious client with bad taste in men and excellent cleavage. Gary-as-Ron tells her to skip the murder and just leave her abusive husband. She listens. And then calls him later for a date. Which he attends. As Ron. You see where this is going.

Fake It, Nail It, Regret Everything.

Gary, while impersonating his fantasy alter ego, slides headfirst into a real relationship. Meanwhile, real Gary is having a moral identity meltdown. But this isn’t Vertigo. It’s 50 Shades of Freud, if Freud also moonlighted as a creative writing professor with a Netflix deal.

Linklater and Powell, bless their hearts, try to have it all: satire, sex, indie vibes, thriller tension, and a couple of scenes that scream, We took Psych 101 once and we’d like a gold star. At times the movie works - there’s genuine chemistry between Powell and Adria Arjona, and the premise is juicy. But it keeps switching outfits mid-scene like it’s in a costume contest. Just pick a lane, Ron!

The Good:

• Glen Powell, doing impressions of himself pretending to be other people. Meta enough for you?

• Adria Arjona, finally getting a role where she’s allowed to be more than “hot woman in distress.”

• The script is snappy in places and has real insight into the seductive power of role-play—not just sexually, but existentially.

• Solid pacing through the first two acts. You’re curious where this is going.

The Meh:

• By Act 3, the plot has had three too many drinks and is stumbling into walls. Murder subplots, double identities, ethical debates, romantic dilemmas—it throws the entire spaghetti pot at the wall and hopes something sticks.

• Tone whiplash. It’s like getting jerked between Before Sunrise and Mr. & Mrs. Smith every five minutes.

• The ending makes a bid for cleverness but smells faintly of a screenwriting workshop power move.

The Recipe:

• This entire movie exists because someone wrote a juicy article with a built-in character buffet—one guy pretending to be a dozen different hit men. That’s catnip for actors, which makes it catnip for producers. Netflix dropped $20 million on it for exactly that reason.

• Indie director + high-concept premise = streaming gold. That’s the formula now.

• And yes, if your date claims to be a contract killer, maybe don’t turn it into a sleepover. Just basic safety.

Verdict:

“Hit Man” is charming, slippery, and kind of a mess. But it’s the kind of mess you keep watching because it’s just entertaining enough. Like watching your philosophy professor get drunk and flirt at a karaoke bar. You’re weirded out. But you’re definitely not bored.

What’s in It for You:

Gary starts out play-acting a role for work, then finds that the persona he invents gets him the things he secretly wants: confidence, connection, excitement. But somewhere along the way, the mask fuses with the face. The line between pretending and becoming starts to blur. And the danger isn’t just moral—it’s existential.

The theme:

Many people discover that success requires adopting a version of themselves that feels… manufactured. The polished LinkedIn version. The charming sales mode. The confident speaker. And for a while, that version works better than the original. But if you lose track of what parts are real and what parts are performative, you end up living a life built on a role instead of a self.

How to know you’re in too deep:

• You avoid situations where people might see how little you care about your own job.

• You prep for one-on-ones like it’s a parole hearing.

• You don’t remember the last time you spoke in your normal voice.

• You’re strangely good at corporate compliments but blank when someone asks what you want.

What to do about it:

1. Catch your filler phrases.

Start noticing what you say when you’re pretending. “Super excited,” “absolutely,” “let’s circle back”—mark them. These are verbal masks. Cut one this week.

2. Say one inconvenient truth per day.

“I don’t know.” “That deadline’s not realistic.” “I need help.” These aren’t vulnerabilities. They’re anchors.

3. Write down what you actually think about your work.

Not what your team thinks. Not what you’d post on LinkedIn. What you think. Then ask: do I even belong here?

4. Take one risk that would disappoint the character you’re playing.

Turn down the meeting. Push back on the fake deadline. Post something online with zero polish. If it makes your persona cringe, it’s probably you growing.

This isn’t about authenticity as a brand. This is about not sleepwalking through your career in someone else’s clothes.

Gary got lucky—he had a murder plot to shake him out of it. You might want to start sooner.