Knox Goes Away

Most hitman movies are obsessed with how a man lives by the sword, but Michael Keaton is much more interested in how that man dies by the brain. When we meet John Knox, he isn’t doing backflips or engaging in neon-soaked gun-fu. He’s a guy who reads philosophy, keeps a tidy house, and happens to kill people for money. But then the words start to slip. The coffee goes in the cupboard instead of the pot. He gets a diagnosis of "Fast Evolution" Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease—a rare, aggressive form of dementia that gives him weeks, maybe days, before his mind becomes a blank slate.

I watched this on a Tuesday night while wearing one mismatched sock because I’d lost the other in the laundry—a minor lapse that felt uncomfortably thematic as I watched Knox struggle to keep his own reality from unraveling. It’s a somber, methodical piece of work that feels like a throwback to the mid-budget adult thrillers of the 90s, even though it’s firmly planted in our current era of direct-to-digital releases and indie scrappiness.

A Different Kind of Ticking Clock

In a contemporary landscape where action movies are often measured by their body counts or the complexity of their multiverse, Knox Goes Away is refreshingly small. It’s essentially a procedural where the person solving the crime is also the person who committed it—and he’s losing the instructions as he goes. When his estranged son, Miles (James Marsden, playing the "troubled kid" with a weary, believable grit), shows up on his doorstep covered in blood after a retaliatory killing, Knox has to orchestrate a complex "clean-up" operation.

The tension doesn't come from whether Knox can outrun the cops—led by a sharp, skeptical Suzy Nakamura—but whether he can remember the next step of his own plan. It’s basically 'The Father' with a silencer, and that’s a compliment. Michael Keaton, pulling double duty as director, opts for a cool, jazz-inflected atmosphere. He isn't interested in making Knox a superhero. He makes him a craftsman whose tools are rusting in real-time. The way the film handles the visual representation of dementia—subtle shifts in focus, the repetition of mundane tasks—is far more effective than any CGI explosion could ever be.

The Keaton-Pacino Connection

While Keaton carries the emotional weight, the film gets a massive shot of adrenaline whenever Al Pacino wanders onto the screen. Playing Xavier Crane, Knox’s long-time mentor and a man who clearly knows where all the bodies are buried, Al Pacino is having the time of his life. He’s operating in that late-career "comfortable legend" mode, delivering lines with a rhythmic eccentricity that reminds you why we fell in love with him in The Godfather and Heat (directed by Michael Mann).

The scenes between Michael Keaton and Al Pacino are the highlight of the film. There’s a warmth there, a sense of two old lions sharing a final meal. It also highlights the film's "Indie Gem" status. Despite the high-wattage cast, including Marcia Gay Harden in a brief but piercing role as Knox’s ex-wife, this movie was made for a shoestring budget of just under $1 million. For context, that’s about what a major Marvel production spends on the craft services table in a week. Keaton shot the entire thing in 25 days, which is an incredible feat of efficiency. You can see the resourcefulness in every frame; the film relies on sharp dialogue and clever blocking rather than expensive set pieces.

Noir on a Shoestring

As a piece of contemporary cinema, Knox Goes Away feels like a quiet rebellion against "franchise fatigue." It’s a standalone story that doesn't care about setting up a sequel or selling toys. It’s a noir for the streaming age—designed to be discovered on a quiet evening by people who miss movies made for grown-ups. The screenplay by Gregory Poirier (who wrote the underrated Rosewood) is tightly wound, playing with our expectations of how a "one last job" story is supposed to end.

The action choreography is minimal but impactful. When Knox has to use his skills, it’s fast, messy, and regrettable. There’s no glory here, just a man trying to do one right thing for his family before he forgets who they are. The cinematography by Marshall Adams, who worked on Better Call Saul, uses shadows and clinical lighting to make the urban sprawl feel like a maze that Knox is slowly losing the map to. It’s a film that understands that the most terrifying villain isn't a rival hitman or a crooked cop; it's the inevitable loss of self.

Knox Goes Away is a melancholic, intelligent thriller that proves Michael Keaton is as capable behind the camera as he is in front of it. It’s a testament to what independent filmmaking can achieve with a great script and a cast of pros who are willing to work for the love of the craft. If you’re looking for a crime story that values character over carnage, this is a journey worth taking. It might not be an "instant classic" in the traditional sense, but it’s a deeply satisfying piece of noir that lingers in the mind—long after the credits roll and you realize you still haven't found that missing sock.