4.5/5

Review by John P. Harvey.

Driving in icy conditions in the mountainous French region of Jura, Michel (Franck Dubosc, who also co-wrote and directed the film) evades collision with a black bear but, in doing so, accidentally kills two people. When Michel’s wife, Cathy (Laure Calamy), uses her knowledge of crime novels to direct a coverup of his part in the disaster, she discovers in the victims’ car boot the evidently illicitly obtained sum of two million Euros in cash.

It takes only a few hours of psychological and ethical wrangling for Michel and Cathy to convince themselves that they should keep the cash. They are, after all, struggling financially; they have a son who needs special consideration; and whoever owned the money is now dead and has no need of it.

No suspicion at first falls on them. The entire thing seems to be a tragic accident, and nobody appears to know about the missing money — except possibly the gang that was expecting its delivery. But Cathy, conjuring up her crime-novel knowledge, and alert to how they need to avoid suspicion by moving the corpses to ensure their natural disposal, convinces Michel to follow her ill-thought-through plan. Michel’s and Cathy’s combined ineptness in attempting to correct one disaster simply leads to another and another, all steadily supplying further clues to the police. Worse, the attraction between money and greed eventually leads to the involvement of many others in a comedy of crime and covert mayhem.

Franck Dubosc and Laure Calamy make a terrific duo as the dour husband Michel and the determinedly positive though anxious wife Cathy — good people who, trying to do their best with their unenviable lives, understandably fall into the temptation of easy money.

Though the plot calls for some suspension of disbelief in the thoroughgoing capability of Michel and Cathy to sabotage their own lives, the effort is worth it. A winning combination of dramatic suspense, appealing characters, and unfolding comic disaster, How to Make a Killing has had French audiences alternately cringing with glee and guffawing in horrified embarrassment.