In 2014, a modestly budgeted action film about a retired assassin seeking vengeance for his slain puppy transformed into a cultural phenomenon. John Wick wasn't just another action movie—it was the vanguard of a wave of hitman films that would flood our screens over the next decade. From The Equalizer (the one with Denzel, not the series with Queen Latifah) to The Gray Man, from La Femme Nikita to Atomic Blonde, audiences have shown an insatiable appetite for stories about professional killers.
But why this genre, why the nearly equal gender distribution of killers, and why now? Perhaps in our current political climate, watching someone definitively solve problems with a Glock provides the catharsis our gridlocked democracy cannot.
The Fantasy of Consequential Action
The most revealing aspect of contemporary hitman films is their protagonists' motivation. Unlike their predecessors, who killed for money, today's cinematic assassins act out of moral conviction, personal vengeance, or principle. This shift gives insight into a profound undercurrent in our cultural psyche: the fantasy of consequential action in a world where many feel increasingly powerless.
Political scientist Francis Fukuyama suggests that citizens in democratic societies increasingly feel that traditional political channels fail to produce meaningful change. As institutions lose credibility and political divisions intensify, many people feel trapped within systems they neither influence nor support. We vote, we protest, we X/tweet our outrage—yet the world remains stubbornly unmoved by our efforts.
Beyond the consequential action, another fantasy theme often accompanies it: restoring control. Amid a revenge fantasy, engaging with this genre can help us temporarily experience regaining control over situations where we feel powerless and victimized. In a world where our political representatives seem increasingly unrepresentative, there's something undeniably satisfying about watching someone who actually fulfills their promises—even if those promises entail elaborate murder sequences.
Political Helplessness and Vicarious Vengeance
The surge in these films is notable. The output from production studios and the shift from killer-for-hire to principled killer align with a time of extraordinary political turmoil. During this period, not coincidentally, we've moved from Brexit to Trump and then back to Trump, with other unsavory figures parading across the world stage. With uproars over pandemic mishandling to climate inaction, citizens across the political spectrum have felt the frustration of witnessing what they consider catastrophic decisions unfold with seemingly no way to intervene.
Our declining trust in rule-makers has similarly diminished our appreciation for rule-following heroes. When institutional frameworks appear broken and corrupt, stories of extrajudicial action become nearly unavoidable for restoring order to a chaotic world. When I was growing up, Superman embodied "truth, justice, and the American way"—now, we tend to favor heroes with a body count and a vendetta.
Keanu Reeves’ John Wick and Jennifer Garner’s Peppermint eliminate dozens of opponents with surgical precision, but they also offer us what psychologist Jennifer Wolkin describes as "the catharsis of witnessing consequences in a world that increasingly seems to lack them." For those who have watched politicians, corporate executives, and other influential figures evade accountability for perceived misdeeds, the immediate consequences delivered by a skilled assassin can provide a fleeting yet vicarious sense of justice. Imagining revenge can give a sense of satisfaction, even if the fantasy never materializes.
Personal Principles in a Post-Truth Era
As more talented screenwriters delve into this genre and grasp what their audiences seek, contemporary hitman films have become infused with a distinct moral framework. The protagonists are not just skilled—they are principled. They adhere to codes that, while not aligned with conventional morality or law, remain consistent and comprehensible. Consistency alone feels revolutionary in a world where political leaders routinely contradict themselves from one day to the next.
In her analysis of contemporary politics, Anne Applebaum identifies a widespread yearning for moral clarity amid competing factual frameworks and ethical systems. Even when presented in problematic forms, this clarity fulfills a fundamental psychological need during times of uncertainty. As real-world ethics become so labyrinthine that distinguishing right from wrong requires a philosophy degree and a team of lawyers, something is refreshing about a protagonist whose moral code can be summarized as "don't kill my dog."
Media scholarship on storylines suggests that "kill stories" increasingly serve as moral parables, enabling audiences to experience the emotional relief from witnessing direct action against perceived injustices. Why wait for the wheels of justice to turn when a well-placed bullet can swiftly resolve the issue?
The Gendered Dimensions of Vicarious Violence
While hitman films have traditionally catered to male audiences, their appeal has broadened significantly. (I believe the appropriate term for a ‘hit-woman’ is ‘female assassin.’) Films like Angelina Jolie’s Salt and the streaming series Killing Eve feature women who embody the same principles-based approach to violence as their male counterparts. The fantasy of bypassing institutional failure to achieve immediate justice apparently transcends gender—we're all equally frustrated with the status quo.
Research in gender studies indicates a notable shift in action cinema, where violence is increasingly depicted as noble when it protects values rather than serving institutional or financial interests. This reframing makes violent narratives more accessible across gender demographics. While I doubt anyone has been eagerly anticipating the day, it’s safe to say that the glass ceiling for cinematic murder has been shattered. Audiences of all genders are here for it.
Roxane Gay’s feminist analysis suggests that female viewers connect with stories that showcase unfettered female agency in a world that still limits women's power. The female assassin who removes obstacles without hesitation represents a potent fantasy for those experiencing political marginalization and gender-based restrictions.
In real life, women are told to smile more and take up less space; in female assassin films, they claim all the space they want, usually by creating vacancies.
The Trump Era Amplification
The popularity of hitman films surged significantly during Trump's politically turbulent first term, which was marked by extreme polarization and widespread feelings of existential threat across the political spectrum.
Karen Stenner's research in political psychology shows that periods of significant instability often trigger authoritarian responses, including fantasies about eliminating perceived threats through direct action. During Trump's presidency, Americans from various political backgrounds regarded their opponents as existential dangers, with few moderate views gaining traction. When half the country sees the other half as an existential threat, the fantasy of immediate, decisive action becomes particularly appealing.
Those who opposed Trump often experienced what psychologists refer to as "anticipatory anxiety"—the fear of an impending disaster with no clear way to prevent it. Supporters of Trump frequently believed that entrenched power structures, commonly referred to as "the deep state," undermined legitimate authority. Both viewpoints encourage fantasies of bypassing institutional channels to confront perceived threats directly. Industry insiders have confirmed that interest in vigilante narratives among audiences surged dramatically after the 2016 election, crossing traditional demographic lines. Hitman films provided an ideologically neutral means for processing political anger, allowing viewers from various backgrounds to project their own frustrations onto the storyline. Whether you feared the president or worried for him, you likely shared the fantasy of cutting through institutional gridlock to achieve your vision of justice.
A Safety Valve, Not a Call to Action
Remember: Hitman films do not incite violence but serve as substitutes for it. Experts in media psychology suggest that violent entertainment often offers constructive psychological outlets, enabling adult viewers to process aggressive impulses in controlled fictional settings instead of real-world contexts.
Sociological studies highlight how these narratives offer opportunities for "vicarious transgression"—experiencing forbidden behaviors without facing their real-world consequences. By providing controlled outlets for processing anger, these films may reduce rather than increase the likelihood of actual violence. We can experience the emotional satisfaction of resolving problems definitively without explaining to a jury why our issues warrant ballistic solutions.
This apparent therapeutic function highlights the genre's popularity during politically volatile periods. Professionals in the entertainment industry have observed that action films with clear moral frameworks consistently outperform other genres during times of political uncertainty, offering an emotional resolution that reality often lacks.
The Paradox of Powerless Spectatorship
There is, however, a profound irony in the popularity of hitman films as outlets for political frustration. While they offer the fantasy of direct action, the process of watching them remains fundamentally passive. The viewer who feels politically powerless confronts this feeling not by engaging in the political process but by consuming entertainment that simulates empowerment. We may finish streaming a movie feeling as though we've accomplished something meaningful when, in reality, we've simply sunk into the sofa’s cushions to watch someone else do something significant.
Media critic Neil Postman's argument that "we are amusing ourselves to death" is becoming increasingly relevant. The hitman film provides entertainment and the illusion of vicarious action—a risky substitute for genuine civic engagement. Just like the assassin who believes a single bullet can resolve a complex issue, we risk thinking that a two-hour movie can fulfill our civic duties.
Conclusion: It’s a Double-Edged Sword
The rise of principled hitman films reflects a profound cultural yearning for agency in an era where many of us feel politically powerless. These narratives provide us with the catharsis of witnessing direct action in a world where institutional channels often seem hopelessly gridlocked or corrupted. For two hours in front of our flatscreen, we experience what it might feel like if problems could actually be solved.
Political philosopher Hannah Arendt might suggest that our attraction to hitman films reflects both our desire for significant action and our susceptibility to substitutes for genuine engagement. Healthy democratic systems direct citizen frustration into organizing, voting, and civic participation. But when these avenues seem blocked, I can picture Arendt shaking her finger and lecturing us on how the fantasy of the righteous assassin provides an easy, alluring alternative—the illusion of power without its responsibilities or consequences. "Democracy requires patience and compromise," she would remind us, while action films offer neither.
Addendum
After sharing my analysis of our cultural obsession with assassin narratives, my therapist suggested that this research has influenced my perspective. But she grew genuinely concerned when I rearranged her waiting room seating for 'optimal tactical advantage.' I started answering her questions about my week with cryptic comments like, “Let's just say several problems have been... permanently resolved.”
She claims this is concerning, but honestly, she's just upset that I now enter her office through the ventilation ducts, wearing a well-pressed Brioni suit and carrying nothing but a heavily annotated copy of Conflict Resolution for Dummies, with all solutions crossed out and replaced by a single word: 'Finality.'
Some people just don't appreciate the commitment to metaphor—or maybe they understand all too well that the line between analyzing political violence and fantasizing about it is as thin as the line between loving democracy and feeling powerless within it. As we continue to fill our screens with skilled killers acting on principle, we might consider whether we're processing our political frustrations through these narratives or merely displacing them—finding temporary relief while avoiding the more complex, messier work of true civic engagement. The hitman delivers immediate justice; democracy requires patience. Only one makes for exciting cinema.