Like its predecessor, the new Kingsman movie is a bit too much of a good thing. In the first film, Kingsman: The Secret Service, director Matthew Vaughn came up with a giddy take on the early Bond movies, this time focusing on an “independent intelligence agency” headquartered in a high-end tailor shop in London’s Savile Row. It was a cute concept—the agents were naturally dapper and their brollies were bulletproof—and it was fun watching Colin Firth, as head spy Harry Hart (workname: Galahad), apply his recessive charm to the bashing of bad guys and the tracking of uber-villains.
That first film was fun because Vaughn has a mad gift for action and an utter disregard for tender sensibilities (something already clear in his wonderfully vicious Kick-Ass movies). But Secret Service was hobbled by a plot thread that required Firth to affectionately mentor a wayward youth called Eggsy (Taron Egerton), who was thought to have agent potential. It turned out that he did, but arriving at this realization was a slog, writes Kurt Loder in his latest review for Reason.
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