It's a hit, man!

 

Glen Powell and Adria Arjona in “Hit Man.” Netflix photo via IMDB.com

Topping the Netflix movie charts for a while now, “Hit Man” is the rare case of a wry comedy loved by critics as much as audiences.

It's being hailed as Glen Powell's breakout role after decades in the supporting trenches. (Yes, that was Glen playing John Glenn in “Hidden Figures” and Jake “Hangman” Seresen in “Top Gun: Maverick.” Seems the guy knows how to fly.)

Foxy Adria Arjona co-stars, steaming up the lens whenever the camera sees her. There's beaucoup chemistry between her and Glen, even though it's hard to keep track of who's playing whom in any given scene.

But “Hit Man's” secret weapon is actually on the other side of the camera. 

Director Richard Linklater, who cowrote the script with Powell, is one of a handful of filmmakers who used to be known as auteurs. They make meta movies, bigger than the sum of their parts. Their creations are self-aware of themselves as movies, even as they make good on the art form's first responsibility:

Telling a helluva good story.

In this case the story is true. Sort of. There really was someone named Gary Johnson who taught college psychology and philosophy classes in New Orleans, and moonlighted making electronic bugging devices for undercover cops to use ensnaring criminals. 

The usual ruse was to play a hit man, answering a call from someone wanting someone else offed. Once the “work order” was recorded, somebody calls the cops.

Gary was part of the crew in the van listening on earphones as Jasper (played dripping with grease by Austin Amelio) would go into the rendezvous with the client, wearing a wire.

But one day, when the higher-ups finally bust Jasper for his, uh, questionable methods, Gary gets tapped to replace him.

Surprise, surprise! Turns out Gary's a natural.

That's the premise for the breezy script, which sneaks lots of little truths into all the lies.

It's Gary's unmemorable blandness, coupled with boyish enthusiasm for discovering nuances of human behavior, that equip him so well for this line of work. Studying his clients' profiles before he meets them, he creates a persona to match what they expect in a professional killer. The guises provide hilarious clips before he comes up with his tour de force: Ron. 

Ron is a hunky, smart, utterly confident slab of testosterone, ready to answer the call from wife-in-distress Madison Figueroa Masters (Arjona), to free her of the lout she's married to. (Most hit man jobs, it turns out, come from partners whose love has “curdled,” Gary has discovered.)

To share what happens next would spoil the fun.

Beginning with his “Dazed and Confused” probes of the “Slacker” generation in the '90s, through the romantic wisdom of “Before Sunrise” and “Before Sunset,” to the exploration of true family values in “Boyhood” that took 12 years to complete, Richard Linklater's movies have a lived-in quality. Sneaking in cinematic game changers like “Waking Life” or “School of Rock,” his camera is almost an extension of his body, a sensory organ through which he experiences life.

His cinematic process is interesting enough to get features on NPR or The New York Times, but what makes his work unique and wonderful is his light touch. 

Glen Powell is a superb stand-in for Linklater in front of the camera – infusing the role of Gary/Ron with easy-going brilliance, forging comedy from a delight in life itself.

Questions of what constitutes a “self” – how much it's a product of our own making, and our own make-believe – are at the heart of “Hit Man.” 

But they don't have to be answered, or even asked, to thoroughly enjoy the movie.

All that's required is to just watch it. You'll be glad you did.