published November 12, 2026
Timely? Sure. But How to Rob a Bank struggles with generating goodwill.
Is it disingenuous – maybe duplicitous – for a movie about a group of anti-capitalists who seek vengeance against the financial institutions that have allegedly held them back from happy, healthy lives to be released by a studio owned by one of the largest, most lucrative companies on the planet? And what if that movie is directed by, produced by and stars a slew of millionaires (or, at the very least, certainly, million-adjacent)?
That’s part of the problem in assessing How to Rob a Bank.
It’s a hard-core, hard-driving, rage-against-the-machine narrative that plays on and preys on many of the attitudes and challenges of the times.
And it’s angry. How to Rob a Bank might well be the angriest movie of the year.
Central to the story is a guy who’s running a group of anarchists who stage elaborate schemes to rob banks. They thoroughly document their activity using strategically placed action cameras, DSLRs, drones and other gear, then share them on social media in carefully curated, obnoxious, quick-cut videos featuring people wearing stylized wolf and bunny masks. It’s all so suitable for the no-attention-span generation living in an attention economy.
The group’s a TikTok sensation.
Their intent is to attract followers and build a fanbase, sure. But also to share their knowledge so others can do the same and spread the movement across the country.
Consider them an overwhelming success and a cultural phenomenon.
Their TikTok videos are now amassing 100 million views. (Think of all the revenue they pull in on commissions and other income from all the ads they run selling the gear they use and recommend.) Following their crime spree involving 61 felonies and 15 banks during a three-month period in greater metropolitan Pittsburgh, bank robberies nationwide have spiked 400%.
As the movie begins, our “hero,” or “anti-hero,” Ryan (Nicholas Hoult), spells it all out. In the modern world, there’s something more powerful than a gun. It’s an audience. It’s the entire foundation of the attention economy that drives influencers to a life of extravagance, annoyance and dangerous misinformation. Some have legitimate talent. Some are hacks who feed off other people’s hunger for watching trainwrecks. Almost all of them have way too much idle time on their hands.
Ryan says it’s all about playing to the algorithms and front-loading authenticity. When a guy like him has nothing to lose, watch those numbers spike as the scale and precariousness of his efforts escalate.
But. Wait. Authenticity?
Aye. There’s the rub.
Extending beyond the salaries of the talent and their corporate funding, the problem is some of the in-movie characters who claim to be effusive fans of this group of chaos agents drive BMWs, such as one guy who’s thrilled his Beemer (or Bimmer, for the purists) was carjacked by the group. (Pull out the phone and share your (exciting!) misfortune on social media!) Even the gang leader’s wife drives a really nice, recently washed, spotless inside and out, brand new MINI Cooper S. (Spoiler alert: It hurts – bad – to see that one totaled during a climactic scene.)
So, how are these people suffering and why are they so angry?
That’s where the movie still manages to find some heart for its characters and it ekes out some fairly sympathetic dramatic elements.
Ryan rattles off a bunch of stats. The numbers don’t sound right, so loads of factchecking is advised, but the topics are relevant.
First, there’s the affordability crisis that played a critical role in the recent U.S. midterm elections. Buying a house was once the American dream, but it’s out of reach for too many. Getting a six-figure salary is rare. Becoming a millionaire, even more so.
People are in debt. They can’t afford necessary medications or food. They’re sandwiched between both children and their own parents, all needing attention and care. They’re exploited by their employers. And they have an infatuation with their smartphones that makes them all the more miserable (and, honestly, “dumber”).
As Jimmy McMillan shouted more than 20 years ago, “The rent is too damn high!”
And yet things have only gotten worse during the ensuing decades. Younger generations are saddled with paying the “boomer bill.” But what’s the root cause? It’s obvious things need fixing. The solutions are far less so.
Therein lies the problem with How to Rob a Bank. It is wholly divorced from any sense of responsibility to reason and realism. That’s why at one point during a “block party” protest, all sorts of provocative slogans are seen on posters, such as “Class War Ahead.” But, in the next scene, a human head is slammed against multiple car windows, shattering them into fragments and yet that human head is later seen alive and well and sporting a small bandage and minor bruising.
That nonsense undermines what could be not just an angry movie, but also a powerful theatrical experience.
Ryan’s got an interesting story. His infant son died because he simply couldn’t afford the bills his care accumulated. It’s horrible. It. Should. Never. Happen. At this point, the murder of Brian Thompson, the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, comes to mind. It was at the hands of disgruntled Luigi Mangione, who confessed to his crimes and claimed it was an act to protest the U.S. health insurance industry and how it treats its customers. That case is not directly mentioned in HTRAB, but the ghost of that mindset linges.
And there’s Vince (Pete Davidson), a U.S. military veteran who suffers from lung cancer following his combat duty. He has a wife and a sweet little daughter. And – breaking from the movie’s narrative – Leitch is also capturing a really good performance from Davidson. Don’t squander it! (It’s also funny to think Davidson’s showing off new temporary tattoos as Vince after having had his own “erased” recently.)
As for Hoult, he’s really good – as a well-paid actor – playing a desperate man. Maybe it’s this performance that turned enough heads at Amazon MGM to bring him in last week for an audition as Bond. James Bond. The multi-billion-dollar global powerhouse about an ultra-suave super agent is gearing up for its latest reboot under the direction of Denis Villeneuve at, yep, Amazon MGM.
So it is they rail against healthcare providers and financial institutions profiting off the pain of others and collecting inescapable interest on their desperation.
In Ryan’s world, theft is fine. As he sees it, he’s simply taking back what – technically – never really belonged to him. Ever. He doesn’t consider the harm he might be causing other innocents and the next cycle of turmoil he might be setting in motion for those people. And, so he claims, bank robberies offer a stellar 90% “success rate.” (Fine print: That’s getting the money out the door. Ryan did not disclose the long-term “success” of keeping it.)
But, still, he draws the line at murder. It’s not about killing others, although he need look no further than the loss of his own son for his own motivation.
Ryan asserts people spend four years attending college and practicing for a career. Then they spend 40 years practicing poverty. But that’s not the case for everybody. It’s revealed Ryan earned degrees in Art and English. Before throwing money at those degrees, and piling on that debt, maybe he should’ve first questioned where such a combo would lead down the road, and how it would jibe with his desired lifestyle. He certainly knows how to make eye-catching videos, so there’s that. He has a great talent. He has great skills. But heaven forbid he might also round things out with a business course and learn about the significance of the time value of money.
It’s all every bit as circumspect as a multi-billion-dollar global enterprise funding an anti-capitalist movie.
But, on the flip side, the real-world optics are so bad, even a blind man on Madison Avenue would advise, “Yeah, that doesn’t look good,” when time after time a CEO pulls down hundreds of millions of dollars in bonuses while thousands are laid off with meager packages. And is being a trillionaire truly an aspiration that helps the world in anyway? These are the “big ticket” grabs that represent enormous amounts of resources effectively being pulled out of the economy to virtually no benefit whatsoever.
There is a common ground to be found, though. It’s somewhere in the middle. And that’s rarely popular.
And so it is How to Rob a Bank is a missed opportunity. Sure, it teases of a sequel (How to Escape from Prison, anyone?). But these characters don’t have the carryover and crossover appeal with which to build a franchise.
To its credit, HTRAB tries to be “fair.” FBI Special Agent John West (John C. Reilly) is a voice of reason, at least to a certain extent. He’s concerned the anarchy is setting people up to ruin civilization (yet another callback to the summer’s mega-blockbuster, The Odyssey, and the decline of the Bronze Age). John tries to hold steady, acknowledging the system is not perfect, but it still tries to protect people, not hurt them.
And yet, in a finale that starts to feel a little too much like Crime 101 (another Amazon MGM release), there’s the thought maybe he was in on it all along. Ultimately, not so in this case, but he does start to question who exactly are the good people as a revelation is made about the final recipients of at least some of the gang’s ill-gotten gains, tallying an eye-watering $500 million.
Ryan offers the movie’s capstone message: The system is shamefully broken. Change it or someone will change it for you. It’s a valid sentiment. Virtually unassailable. It gets applause from the audience.
This is a departure, of sorts, for director David Leitch. The guy’s helmed some really big, splashy action movies: Deadpool 2, Atomic Blonde, Bullet Train and The Fall Guy top the list. They’re typically overloaded with colorful characters, over-the-top action and loads of humor, mostly good-natured and situationally appropriate.
Here, the humor is the first thing to be jettisoned. Sure, there are some “cute” moments between Special Agent West and his unlikely assistant, a software developer named Reagan (Zoe Kravitz). She’s been under house arrest for the past 10 ½ months and now she’s been enlisted to use the same tool that got her in trouble to begin with. It’s called FYPOS. Yeah, it’s an acronym. No, it won’t be spelled out here. Public decency kinda dictates that one.
FYPOS is the end product of Reagan spending 72 hours going down a rabbit hole trying to find her ex. The software she created, essentially a “social media wire tap,” helps identify people in the background of other people’s selfies. Privacy be damned! She wanted to track down her ex. Its interesting (and rather alarming) capabilities extend to making associations with identifiable objects and locations. To what end? Not disclosed. Regardless, she now regrets it all.
Ever the fashionista, Reagan perpetually sports tube socks and clunky sandals. She’s been biding her time at home enjoying a few too many bong hits and bag after bag of Cheetos. She also holds light conversations with her pet guinea pig, appropriately named Morpheus (and he’s even given a voice credit to director Leitch).
As Special Agent West astutely observes, “You don’t smell busy.”
At least the movie’s limited humor is good humor.