REVIEW. HIT MAN: Reimagining the Rom-Com at the Corner of Piety and Pleasure.

Writer-Director Richard Linklater had me at "hello" almost thirty years ago with Before Sunrise, his affecting 1995 mash-up I refer to as "Romeo & Juliet meet as Strangers on a Train," and what became the first installlment of his critically acclaimed "Before" trilogy. Starring a post-Dead Poets Society Ethan Hawke and French ingenue Julie Delpy, Before Sunrise reminds us of unforgettable first loves and how chance encounters can define us.

Sound a bit like Woody Allen? Sort of. Linklater has spent a good part of his filmmaking career examining the existential impact of time: how we spend it, how we change as it passes, how we live (or don't) in the moment. After Sunrise, he waited nine years to check in on now ex-lovers (or really, one-time lovers, as we discover) Jesse and Celine as they have an unplanned rendez-vous in Paris in 2004's Before Sunset. By movie's end, they seemed destined to stay together forever, until we revisit them one final (?) time nine years hence to see if the ever-after really is happy (Before Midnight, 2013). The third film's conclusion is intentially ambiguous.

In 2014, Linklater released a sort of time-bound magnus opus, a twelve-year in the making project called Boyhood, in which we watch the main character, a six-year-old boy named Mason (Ellar Coltraine) grow up. Linklater filmed pieces of the film every year, so we experience everything from birthday parties to family meals, adolescent heartbreak to high school graduation, over the course of time. We watch Mason mature, his parents age, the world around him change.

At film's end, Mason is entering college and spends an afternoon of exploration with his newfound residence hall friends. One of them, Nicole (Jessi Mechler), raises the question about "seizing the moment," saying she thinks it's the other way around, that the moment really seizes us. "Yeah, you know, it's constant... the moments. It's like it's always right now," Mason replies.

Hmm. Always right now.

Linklater's latest treatise on time, Hit Man, co-written w/actor Glen Powell, is clearly focused on the "right now" as it examines characters at a crossroads. Even the street signs point out the film's essential dilemmas: Law and Desire, Hope and Danger, Piety and Pleasure. It's "sort of" based on the real life of Gary Johnson (Powell), a philosophy professor at the University of New Orleans who moonlights as a tech geek for a local police sting operation. Gary is ordinary enough: his classes are taught with efficiency, but little inspiration or passion. He's divorced, lives alone with his two cats, Id and Ego, and eats cold cereal for dinner alone in his kitchen. Can you say boring?

One day, the officer who typically sets up the murder-for-hire trap for unsuspecting clients is unavailable for duty and Gary gets the call to replace him. Completely out of his element and way beyond his comfort zone, Gary - assuming the persona of a fake hit man called "Ron" - uses his intellectual skills to land an arrest (and later, conviction). Gary becomes so smitten with the idea of Ron and, more importantly, who he becomes and how he feels when he inhabits his alter ago, that he begins to assume more and more elaborate disguises to snare potential clients. He wears wigs, prosthetic teeth and different clothes in order to appeal to his anxious patrons, using their police profiles to assess their situation and their level of bloodthirst.

In an extended montage that shows just how effective (and effectively funny) Gary/Ron's work is, Linklater also raises questions about just what Gary is doing: Can people really change? Can we become the people we want to be? Can we alter our personalities at will? Is this type of change sustainable? Gary verbalizes these questions in voiceover narrative and later discusses the concept of who we are and whether we can change our personalities with his ex-wife and then his students.

Meanwhile, Ron's success bagging would-be criminals seems to be running smoothly... until he meets Madison (Adria Arjona), a beautiful, if troubled, woman whose unhappy marriage hints of destructive spousal control and abuse. The scene where she and "Ron" meet in a ubiqutious out-of-the-way diner called Pleasure U is a pas de deux of sexual tension, burgeoning passion, and undeniable chemistry. She politely asks Ron if she can sample his pie (his signature dish, eaten with the belief that "all pie is good"), then voraciously consumes what's left on his plate, quietly confessing her husband has her on a strict diet.

Instead of regaling Madison with tales of how he'll off her husband, Ron suggests that she leave him and begin a new life on her own. They part without an arrest, but with Ron's police colleagues questioning why he let a potential perp get away.

A few weeks later and back to capturing unhappy people looking to eradicate someone from their life, Ron gets an unexpected text from Madison, who invites him to meet her and see how she's doing. Much better, we assume. He seemingly seizes the moment (or is it the other way around?) and hooks up with her, delighted at her newfound freedom - and his own. He's come to like Ron, or at least certain behavioral attributes Ron exhibits, as this gives him the courage to embrace his dormant passions. As a result, his classes at University suddenly awaken with verve and energy, with one of his students whispering to another, "When did our professor get so sexy?"

The rest of the story if filled with more twists and turns than a top-notch roller coaster - and more exciting than a thousand amusement park rides - so I'll not spoil the rest of the movie and encourage you to see it yourself. It's currently streaming on Netflix after a very brief (two-week) theater run (like last fall's Maestro).

Hit Man is clearly a movie to watch this year: it's smart, funny, and very entertaining. Glen Powell, probably best known as the slick-snarky pilot in 2022's Top Gun:Maverick and seen earlier this year in another rom-com, Anything But You, may be the genre's new "it" guy: he's more handsome than Tom Hanks, less sophisticated than Hugh Grant, but immensely seductive, capitalizing on every iteration Gary/Ron has to offer. For someone who was once told he couldn't play a convincing corpse on the TV series CSI, Powell has shown range, intelligence and clear movie star appeal in each of his recent film projects. Heck, he's almost as charismatic as Ryan Gosling. Almost. He's just Glen.

The thing that really had me hooked watching this movie was the script: sharp, tight, and very clever. Co-writers Powell and Linklater left no existential query unanswered through plot, character development, denouement, but they also didn't tie up the resolution in a neat little bow, either. Some may find the ending disappointing, depressing, or even morally offensive, but this tale of two lovers, each at a personal crossroads, could not have wound up with any touch of conventionality. The characters' predicament is anything but, even if the characters are introduced as a kind of cliche: Gary the geeky professor and Madison the unhappy wife. Both they and the story rise above predictability because Linklater is smart enough as a director to keep the narrative fresh, the focus on each moment.

As some of you know, I have been a huge fan of romantic comedies ever since Annie Hall said, "La Di Da," but I maintain that I am a fan of good rom-coms, so no need to watch 27 Dresses or No Hard Feelings again. One of the things that made Annie Hall so iconic in film history is the way writer-director Woody Allen changed the notion of a happy ending. Wisconsin native Annie and New Yorker Alvy never end up together: they realize that true love doesn't necessarilly mean "happily ever after" but that not having experienced it would have been a loss.

In a similar fashion, Hit Man raises probing questions about who we are, what ignites our passions, and how we respond when "the/a moment" presents itself. It's not afraid to show life's messes in the midst of self-revelation: the sex scenes, in particular, are erotic without being cheesy or sappy - and when they border on pushing the boundaries - Linklater pulls back with a sly wink and a suggestive knowing about who these characters are and what is driving their connection. It's still a rom-com, after all, albeit a quirky, gangsta noir, ethically-challenged one.

In my perfect cinematic world, Hit Man will be in contention come this year's awards season. Unfortunately, it's early summer release and almost straight-to-streaming contract works against it being seen as Oscar material. It never played in the Chicago area, so I'm guessing no theaters outside of New York and Los Angeles distributed it. Too bad. If it comes to a theater near me, I'm there and would recommend that, if you can, catch it in a theater.

Other than that, though, Hit Man has all the qualities the late director Robert Altman deemed necessary for a really good movie: it's funny, serious, with maybe even a few thrills; it has romance, action, sex, violence and, above all, a happy ending. Of course, it's a billed as a comedy - and a romantic one at that - and we all know that Hollywood rarely takes comedies seriously. I'll let you decide if the ending qualifies as "happy," as I'm certain there will be differences of opinion on how Madison and Gary wind up. Maybe it's just an affirmation of how the moment can seize us, and what happens after.

Think about it. 'Cause, you know, it's always like right now.

And remember: All pie is good.

Hit Man is rated R and currently streaming on Netflix.

Coming soon: The Fall Guy (better late than never), Woody Allen's Coup de Chance and maybe even a rock concert review.