****
One of the top veterans in a
highly secretive spy agency recruits a young yob at the same time as a super-villain
threatens to destroy humanity.
I can only assume that the screenwriters
were sniffing some serious narcotics when they came to sit down and write ‘Kingsman:
The Secret Service’. To say that it is completely bonkers and utterly mad would
be something of an understatement: things start exploding pretty early on;
Colin Firth is a gun-wielding secret service agent with some tasty karate moves;
there’s a woman with knives on her prosthetic legs instead of feet; as well as
a whole lot of swearing, violence and nice suits. From the opening shot of two
agents swinging low over Afghanistan, you know you’re in for an entertaining
and absolutely ludicrous time. Long-term readers will know that I am somewhat
adverse to comedy, but I laughed almost consistently throughout, as well as
exclaiming ‘oooh!’ at particularly gruesome parts, and then ‘NO!’ when one of
the most shocking moments ever seen on screen occurs. Colin Firth is perfect as
Harry Hart, the super-slick long-standing Kingsman agent, who just oozes charm
and danger. He just oozes charm and danger, and seeing someone who is
considered the archetypal gentleman kick ass and swear like a trooper is
instantly hysterical. The script is very self-aware, which only makes it better
– it knows that it is similar to James Bond, but it just runs with it and takes
the mick out of every spy movie ever made. There are some perfect moments
wherein characters breakdown the fourth wall by saying ‘But this isn’t that
kind of movie’, and there are numerous clever quips and knowing asides that
just make it a joy to watch.
If I were to ask the director one
thing, it would be ‘Why make Mark Strong Scottish?’ I like Mark Strong – he is
a great screen presence and pretty much consistently excellent, but he cannot
do a Scottish accent. It’s not that it’s particularly bad, but it’s just that
in some scenes he is mildly Scottish, and then later he is so Scottish it’s
almost impossible to understand. A brave attempt, but wholly laughable. Samuel
L. Jackson essentially plays a lisping version of every other character he has
ever played, and the female would-be agent competing alongside Eggsy (Firth’s protégé)
is wholly one-dimensional. The final act is, as is usually the case nowadays,
slightly too long, but it is so amusing and so outrageous that you just sit
back and enjoy the spectacle, with a massive smile on your face.
Well, it’s nuts – that’s the only
way to describe it. But it’s knowingly nuts, excellently written, splendidly
shot, and engaging from that very first frame. There is something massively
enjoyable about seeing Colin Firth being a ‘bad ass’ and, yes, the violence is gratuitous
and the swearing is used to excess, but it is
fun. Everything about it is mad (I’m running out of synonyms here!), but it is
completely and wholly enjoyable.
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