Kingsman: The Secret Service (Film Review)


Like bunting in baseball, the spoof has become one of modern cinema’s lost arts. Despite living in a world more self-aware than it’s ever been, we’ve really lost touch with a genre that has provided my childhood with some of its most memorable films. Matthew Vaughn has been known for pushing the envelope of genre in his four prior directorial efforts, and his fifth film Kingsman might just be my favorite one yet. Perfectly straddling the line between being a comedic send-up of James Bond films and being a darn good spy-action film in its own right, Kingsman is the perfect antidote to the traditional slog of February in theaters.

Developing the world of a covert British organization of gentlemen spies, the film centers around the rigorous audition and initiation process to becoming a prodigious member of the Round Table (King Arthur parallels abound). At the center of it all is Harry Hart, code name Galahad (Colin Firth), a debonair mixture of wit and physicality. When his colleague Lancelot is killed, he nominates a streetwise delinquent named Eggsy (newcomer Taron Egerton), in stark contrast to the upper-crust youths put forth by the other Kingsmen. The trials and tribulations of the training quickly collide with a nefarious plan from eccentric billionaire Richmond Valentine (Samuel L. Jackson), who seeks to severely trim the Earth’s population in an attempt to stop humanity’s destruction of the planet.

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