In an era of widening wealth gaps and growing distrust of institutions, the outlaw narrative has never felt more relevant. Movies like Bonnie and Clyde, Point Break, and Fight Club have used crime to explore thorny questions about morality, justice, and rebellion. David Leitch's latest, How to Rob a Bank, starring Nicholas Hoult, tries to tap into that same vein but ends up delivering a heist comedy that's surprisingly toothless and, worse, boring.
The film follows Ryan (Hoult), a modern-day Robin Hood with a punk-rock haircut and a YouTube channel. Along with his crew—Vince (Pete Davidson), Hugo (Rhenzy Feliz), and his girlfriend Emi (Anna Sawai)—Ryan robs banks in Pittsburgh, donning animal masks and filming everything with GoPros. The twist? They give the money to charity and post slick, anti-capitalist videos that rally a massive online following. It's a premise ripe for satire and moral complexity, but the movie plays it safe, painting its heroes as squeaky-clean do-gooders and its FBI pursuers as sympathetic bureaucrats. The result is a conflict-free zone where everyone is likable and nothing feels at stake.
Leitch, known for his kinetic action work in John Wick, Atomic Blonde, and Bullet Train, seems to have left his signature style at the door. The action sequences here are surprisingly flat, lacking the inventive choreography and visceral energy that made his previous films stand out. The neon-soaked visuals and rapid editing can't hide the fact that the heists are routine and the tension is minimal. Even the comedy falls flat, with dialogue that feels improvised but not inspired.
The characters are sketched in broad strokes, never developing beyond their archetypes. Ryan is a charismatic leader with a tragic backstory, but we never really get inside his head. The supporting crew are interchangeable, defined more by their masks than their personalities. The most interesting character is Reagan (Zoe Kravitz), a tech-savvy slacker under house arrest who is recruited by FBI agent John West (John C. Reilly) to track down the gang. Kravitz brings a welcome edge to the film, but even she can't elevate the muddled script.
The film's central flaw is its refusal to embrace moral ambiguity. It wants us to cheer for the robbers without questioning their methods, and it wants us to see the FBI as reasonable, even sympathetic. This creates a narrative vacuum where no one is truly wrong, and therefore no one is truly compelling. The movie even includes a scene where every person in Pittsburgh seems to adore the gang, removing any sense of conflict or consequence.
Midway through, the tone shifts abruptly into darker territory, but the transition is jarring and unearned. The film tries to have it both ways—lighthearted caper and serious commentary—and ends up succeeding at neither. The social critique is shallow, the heists are forgettable, and the emotional beats feel unearned.
For a film about rebellion, How to Rob a Bank is remarkably safe. It's the kind of movie that thinks it's edgy but is actually just pandering. If you're looking for a heist film with real bite, you'd be better off revisiting a streaming hit like Crime 101 or checking out the upcoming Netflix thriller Rectify. Even The Finder, a quirky crime show Disney+ should revive, offers more entertainment value.
In the end, How to Rob a Bank is a missed opportunity. With a talented cast and a timely premise, it could have been a sharp, thrilling commentary on economic inequality. Instead, it's a forgettable caper that takes all the fun out of crime. If you're curious, wait for streaming—but even then, you might be better off watching a YouTube tutorial on how to rob a bank. It's probably more exciting.
