'Kingsman: The Secret Service' is deceptively charming

I was not looking forward to Kingsman: The Secret Service. When I first heard that it was adapted from a comic book miniseries by Mark Millar (Kick-Ass, Nemesis,Wanted,  Marvel's Civil War) my stomach churned. I've definitely enjoyed director Matthew Vaughn's (2004's Layer Cake, 2011's X-Men: First Class) work in the past. Still, my experience with Millar's portfolio has been plagued by interesting concepts that often get buried under too much juvenile blood n' guts excess to stick the landing and deliver on their initial promise. Though I shrugged at preview pages for The Secret Service back in 2012 and was fully prepared to feel the same way about the movie's explosions and head-shots, I did not expect that Matthew Vaughn & co. would be so deceptively charming. That's Kingsman for you.

Vaughn, who also co-wrote the script with Jane Goldman, borrows only very loosely from Millar and artist Dave Gibbons (of Watchmen fame) in crafting the spy world of Kingsman. Dropping audiences into a desert mission gone sour, the movie's opening introduces Kingsman as a secret cabal of finely-coiffed Englishmen that, code-named for the knights of Arthurian legend, stand in contrast to the comics' foregrounding of actual British intelligence agency MI6. Feeling responsible for the death of an agent, Colin Firth's sharply-dressed Harry Hart (code-name: Galahad) visits the newly-widowed Michelle Unwin to deliver a token and a promise: say the words, and Kingsman will look after you. Although the grief-stricken Michelle rejects Galahad's offer, the Unwin family surfaces on Hart's radar a decade or so later when her son Eggsy (newcomer Taron Egerton), now-fully grown and facing police charges for a brilliantly-shot reverse car-chase, calls in the favour. This meeting couldn't be better timed, because Galahad is also investigating – and looking to replace - the murder of present operative Lancelot.

As Galahad digs deeper into his colleague's death and uncovers the cellphone mind-control plot of sinister techno-philanthropist Valentine (a gleefully lisping Samuel L. Jackson), the streetwise Eggsy is brought from a hidden tube-line under a prestige tailor shop to Kingsman HQ. Through a series of tests designed by Kingsman head Arthur and his advisor, Merlin, Eggsy competes with a series of mostly interchangeable sneering rich-kid archetypes for Lancelot's deserted chair. These trials slowly mold Eggsy from an estate hoodrat into a fledgling gentleman-spy - “aw, like in My Fair Lady,” he nods – but can he save the world and protect his mother from her abusive boyfriend?

There's a lot to like in Kingsman. Despite a pretty uninspired schoolboy rags-to-riches character arc for Eggsy and a typically-insane super-villain doomsday plot, Vaughn and the cast maintain a playful self-awareness that winks at spy-movie excess without ever biting the hand that feeds them. In all his scenery-chewing, Jackson's Valentine dances around the conventions of the super-villain role. Though he acknowledges a love for one-liners and exposition, Jackson chomps on a Big Mac and literally voices the intention to subvert expectations by taunting, “this ain't that kind of movie”.

Kingsman certainly earns its USA R-rating with multiple coat-rack impalings and Zippo lighters to the face. Still, Vaughn keeps a steady hand to temper the nihilistic streak that often bubbles up in Millar's work. Through fistfights, firefights, and a minutes-long carnage-orgy set to a Lynyrd Skynyrd soundtrack in an American church, Vaughn's camera never loses track of the action and never loses its joy for the Edgar Wright school of frenetic cartoony filmmaking.

Vaughn's passion also appears to be infectious, and his whole cast seems to be having an equally great time. Playing off of Sam Jackson's energy, Firth brings a Roger Moore swagger and smile to what has to be the first time I've ever seen “Colin Firth: Action Hero”. In Eggsy's journey to gentleman, Taron Egerton's smirk narrowly swerves around the pitfall of Forgettable White Guy Hero that too often claims actors like Garrett Hedlund and Sam Worthington. Even Valentine's stoic bodyguard Gazelle, standing on razor-tipped Oscar Pistorius prostheses, looks like she's enjoying every second of the absurdity.

A victim of expectation, I was fully primed to hate Kingsman: The Secret Service. I've learned to be skeptical of Mark Millar's work, and Matthew Vaughn's last crack at working with Millar (2010's Kick-Ass) left me feeling pretty flat. And yet, even with a confusing message that critiques social elitism while celebrating the “gentleman” class and selling a new line of designer suits, Kingsman is – surprisingly -  a really good time. Despite my reservations, Vaughn's shown that he can be trusted to deliver on an adapted idea. I don't know if it's in the pipeline, but now I'm finally excited to see what he can do with an original screenplay.

Bottom Line: I may have had my own hang-ups to overcome, but you should see Kingsman: The Secret Service if:

  • You like the self-aware goofiness of Roger Moore's James Bond movies, but could do without all the dad-jokes

  • You crave an action sequence that can actually keep track of the action

  • You think that Colin Firth can only get sexier if he were to murder a bunch of dudes

  • You don't mind wondering why all the women are damsels in distress, bodyguards, or competition for the male protagonists

  • Samuel L. Jackson never fails to brighten your day

--Dan Corber is a published author and all around cool dude