Loosely based on a 2001 Texas Monthly profile, Richard Linklater’s Hit Man mythologizes the life of Gary Johnson, a part-time college professor who moonlighted as a fake hit man for the Houston Police Department. Of course, Linklater’s film—co-written by the director and star Glen Powell, who plays Johnson—takes some major liberties: Houston is swapped for tax credit-friendly New Orleans, a would-be client named Madison (Adria Arjona) turns into Gary’s clandestine lover and a murderous conspiracy unfolds thereafter. While the real-life Gary donned (literal) home-spun costumes in order to tailor himself to each customer’s cold-blooded expectations (just like his on-screen counterpart), he almost certainly didn’t get lost in the persona of “Ron,” a suave, masculine heartthrob who enchants Madison. As Gary further loses himself in the inherent chaos of Ron, he becomes embroiled in a complex situation with no easy way out.
Speaking of other recent hit men films—namely the fellow Venice-premiering Aggro Dr1ft and The Killer—Linklater considers his film to be a “deconstruction” more than a continuation of this storied cinematic mythos, even if he does fabulate Gary Johnson’s lived experience in order to unpack a narrative trope. “They’re called movies,” he joked via a recent phone call. “They’re lies…and that’s okay. They’re good stories.” Indeed, Hit Man is another taut and compelling entry in the director’s impressive oeuvre, which will soon include even more major swings, like a black-and-white French-language feature and a musical production spanning 20 years.
Ahead of Hit Man’s Netflix streaming debut, Linklater spoke to The A.V. Club about the cinematic origins of contract killers, channeling “good old ‘80s sex” between Powell and Arjona, as well as his future projects based on Jean-Luc Godard and Stephen Sondheim.
The A.V. Club: While you’ve made several films that are overtly sexy or hinge on certain characters’ quest to “score,” Hit Man depicts a relationship evolving through several sex scenes, which feels novel for you. What made this erotic component so vital to the story?
Richard Linklater: Well, that’s the way this story works. Sex would drive someone to the behavior and the risks they’re taking. It’s the kind of passion that [Gary] talks about and is questing for in the movie. You see his transformation into someone who is that passionate, sexual [being]. It’s seen as kind of a good thing, but when you do that as a human, you’re heading into more risky territory. You’re very vulnerable, not only personally, but people start doing weird things. A lot comes out of that sexual passion that can be harmful. You put yourself in a volatile spot, let’s say. That had to be very real—and hopefully sexy—to understand the behavior in the story.
Another thing is that I’ve had sex scenes in my movies before. It’s just not setting the background of the characters and the story. I was never one to just throw in a sex scene for no reason. I’ve always been against gratuitous sex. Someone quoted at me saying, “Glen Powell said that this was your first sex scene!” I was like, “What’s he talking about?! Glen Powell was in a sex scene in Everybody Wants Some!!” Maybe he doesn’t consider it a sex scene, certainly it isn’t at the level [of Hit Man], but it’s been a good example of having had sex scenes in my movies.
AVC: You say that you’ve never been one for gratuitous sex scenes, but do you think that the current climate around sex scenes in movies had any influence on you wanting to structure the relationship in this film around sex? Or was that just something that came naturally from the writing process?
RL: I mean, yeah, I’m not directly responding to, like, “Oh, there isn’t enough sex so I’m going to make a sex movie!” That wasn’t my motive, but as I got into it I couldn’t help but notice in our culture, even after we’d done the movie, that, “Oh yeah, people are saying there aren’t sex scenes anymore.” I just hadn’t really thought about that. I guess superhero movies are pretty sexless. They don’t seem to have genitalia. There’s been this infantilization of cinema going on for the last generation, where the mentality went from adult to child—or adolescent, let’s say. Pre-sex. Naturally, that just means there aren’t many sex scenes. It doesn’t figure in stories, because they’re not adult situations. Which is unfortunate, because film is supposed to reflect the real world. But mainstream movies have largely reduced the mentality to such a youthful, childlike state. That’s just where the industry has gone. We shouldn’t be the exception, it shouldn’t be unusual. We joked even while we were making it, “This is like an ‘80s movie. This is our Adrian Lyne 9 ½ Weeks or Body Heat.” Good old ‘80s sex. They were just doing it in a way that totally elevated the plot.
AVC: Not to dwell on this for too long, but I’m really compelled by a comment from when the film was at Sundance, about how it was important for the sex scenes to employ a female gaze of sorts. How exactly did you go about implementing that and did that approach challenge any of your own notions of sex on screen?
RL: A female gaze, huh? I guess to the best of my ability. Glen and Adria were particularly well-matched in that category, with equally attractive bodies, I would say, too [laughs]. I was attracted to them! I didn’t want to do one of these movies where he’s fully clothed and she’s naked. That’s a very male gaze, I’m not stupid. I just want it to be realistic, you know? We approached that as a team. We would ask, “What’s sexy?” And I really listened to them. Adria brought in pictures, she’d show us one of a couple and be like, “Let’s make a scene around that.”
We didn’t need an intimacy coordinator. We had one anyway, just because it’s legal now, but we were all so on the same page. Intimacy coordinators are there for a less personal approach, let’s say.
AVC: It’s really fascinating to juxtapose Hit Man’s portrayal of carceral justice—or its evasion—with the episode you directed of God Save Texas, which explores the state executions carried out in your hometown of Huntsville. Did these projects ever feel overtly in conversation with each other?
RL: Absolutely. If you get anywhere near the justice system, there’s going to be a lot of overlap. Even [Gary’s class lecture] about the death penalty maybe could have fit into [my episode] “Hometown Prison.” He’s talking about the ancient history of the death penalty and how there are studies about it having been part of human evolution. I’m really rounding out this discussion in my head between the two movies. But I had done “Hometown Prison” first, so I saw echoes of it [in Hit Man]. I leave in those courtroom scenes where you could actually look at it and say, “Yeah, there’s an entrapment operation going on here.”
I don’t wish prison on hardly anyone. I mean, 90% of the people in prison, I think it could be handled in a more healthy way for everybody. I’ve got my own ideas about the carceral state for sure. That’s not what the movie is about, but I do like people thinking about it, for sure.
AVC: Speaking of the illusion of the hit man that the film addresses, we see a montage early on in the film of different hired guns throughout cinematic history. What was the process of sifting through and selecting these specific portrayals and images?
RL: That was fun. That montage actually wasn’t in the script. We had a couple of early screenings, just a “friends and family” kind of thing And I was realizing, “Oh, we aren’t hitting the point home hard enough that this is a myth.” This is all fake, it’s brought on by movies, so what better way than to actually show the movies that probably propagated this myth in the first place? It was fun to do that little montage. And I’ll make the distinction that these aren’t mob killings, like in Goodfellas or Pulp Fiction where people are working in a crime underworld situation. No, this is the notion that there’s an unaffiliated retail guy you can hire. It’s a consumerist critique that someone thinks they could purchase, like groceries, the death of another human being so easily. But people are not going to stop believing it, even with this movie. I wouldn’t be surprised if they see this then turn right around to hire a hit man and get arrested for it [laughs]. I don’t expect that to change, nor do I expect there to quit being hit man movies. Last year there were four, if you include ours. I think we’re at least the deconstruction of the hit man movie.
Anyway, that was a fun montage, but I am trying to make that distinction.
AVC: You say that didn’t originally appear in the script, but I’m sure that when you were making the film you were thinking about certain cinematic allusions to these wider cultural perceptions of hit men.
RL: Certainly. When Gary’s character plays all off these different versions of hit men, that is a reflection of what people think of [a contract killer]. People notice Patrick Bateman [of American Psycho] in there, the redneck killer and the steely Eastern European assassin, tropes that Gary could cook up at home without too much trouble. But we went off the deep end with that, which was pretty fun to do. Glen really took it on the accents and stuff [laughs]. It’s just funny to realize that all of the costumes work because [the myth] seems real to the people who believe it.
AVC: I’ve even read interviews that you’ve done for this movie where interviewers are kind of fighting you, like, “No, hit men have to be real!” I think that’s kind of hilarious.
RL: I know! I’ve really thought about this more than anyone. I’ve really studied it, read everything and listened to accounts. I just find it to be a very interesting cultural phenomenon. I knew with the movie that there would be a new layer of disappointment. Like, “Oh, we’ve been lied to.” Well, have you ever seen a Western? They’re called movies. They’re lies, it’s all a myth! And that’s okay. They’re good stories.
AVC: Before we end, I really want to ask about your next two projects that I’m aware of, which are currently in different stages of development. Nouvelle Vague, your French-language film about the making of Breathless, is in post-production, while your adaptation of Merrily We Roll Along, one of my favorite works ever, will continue filming for the next 17 years, if I understand correctly?
RL: Yeah, just that fact technically makes it not my next project. I hope to have another film coming out in the next 17 years [laughs].
AVC: Well, is there anything you can share on either front, or anything about future projects we might be able to expect from you? Where is your creative head at right now?
RL: Well, these films are really fun to be working on! They’re both long-time projects. Nouvelle Vague I’ve been trying to get made for 10 years. The planets finally aligned, and I’m really happy with it. It won’t be out for another year, at least, because of the French part of it, but I can’t wait. If you’re making enough films, you should probably make one film about cinema or the making of a film. So Nouvelle Vague is just about these young filmmakers making their first films.
AVC: What made you feel like it was the perfect time to undertake this 20-year approach for Merrily We Roll Along?
RL: Well, you know the story, so how else? That answers itself. “Right now” is because I haven’t a second to lose. No time like the present! [I used a similar approach for] Boyhood, obviously, but we’re pushing the page a little here. Sondheim was extremely generous. He read the idea and let us begin.
AVC: So you were in conversation with Sondheim about the project before he passed?
RL: Yeah, for several years. I got a couple years there with Steve and got to know him a little bit. I was very grateful.
AVC: It’s interesting that you embark on these projects that either incorporate someone else’s work or somebody else’s life story shortly before they pass. Is this a pattern you’ve noticed?
RL: [Laughs] No, I’ve done that over the years. I mean, Bernie is very much alive! He’s just been in prison. I see this trend you’re poking at, but it’s not really true. It was an unfortunate, sad, tragic thing for Gary Johnson. He had this pulmonary thing, probably brought on by Agent Orange in Vietnam or something. It took him down rather quickly, it was really sad. He didn’t get to come visit [the set] or see the film. I think he would have been amused in a Gary Johnson sort of way. I could hear him kind of go, “Huh,” or chuckle or something. That would probably be the most we’d get out of him. But it would have been triumphant. He’s in my head, a little bit.
With Sondheim, you know, that guy was in his 90s.
AVC: He was still trucking until the end, though.
RL: Oh, God. I mean, no one could have it better. He was so vibrant, razor-sharp. The wittiest, sharpest person you’d ever encounter. He claims that “Opening Doors” is his one autobiographical song, so it’s clearly based on a young him and that generation. But it’s not specifically about him. We all have a little bit of distance.
AVC: Well, I know when it comes to autobiographical elements, people love to fixate on that with your work, specifically. It’s intriguing that you also like adapting other people’s life stories, or things that have somehow been connected to their personal lives.
RL: I want [to explore] the things that really happen in the world. Just think of Gary Johnson. No one could come up with that. That would be so far-fetched, that he’s a teacher and a hit man. It just would have been weird to throw that together. But the fact that he was real means that you can proceed very confidently with the crazy idea.