© 20th Century Fox
DESPERATE FOR A diversion not of my own making, I opted for two hours watching a movie I’d never see if there weren’t three feet of snow everywhere and more coming. Spy movies have never been my thing, but this one definitely puts a new spin on an old genre, dumbing it way down to comic-book level. (Think James Bond meets Archie and Jughead.)
It’s worth your time if you enjoy a rousing, blood-spurting fight scene or two — or three or four, or maybe more — I pretty much lost count. And without giving anything away, you should know going in that many, many heads explode (quite colorfully, I might add) and one unlucky fellow is dissected in a most amazing way that you will long remember, possibly while trying to fall asleep tonight.
The action of “Kingsman: The Secret Service” revolves around a super-secret spy organization that exists to right the wrongs of the world. If it were real, they would surely go after ISIS. Alas it’s Hollywood, and so they just go after one crazy billionaire. Played by a lisping Samuel L. Jackson in jeans, a baseball cap and love beads, he’s bent on saving the world by ridding it of the humans he believes are a “virus” infecting our planet. Sound thinking, one might agree, but his methods are unsavory and require all but his chosen people to die in horrendous ways.
Enter the Kingsmen, a band of under-the-radar miracle workers in well-tailored suits who can each kill hundreds of bad guys yet remain unscathed, thanks to their ingenious weapons and excellent training at the Kingsman Institute. To help explain the convoluted plot, we meet the new recruits and watch them go through their paces. One in particular is a young tough from the wrong side of town but with a good heart and “natural abilities” who ends up being the best of the best and looking a lot like the young Matt Damon. Many others, including Michael Caine and Colin Firth, do not fare as well.
It’s bloody. It’s funny. In fact, at times it’s bloody funny. If there’s a lot of snow where you live and you want in from the cold, go see it.
— Andrea Rouda
Frequent MyLittleBird contributor Andrea Rouda blogs at “Call Me Madcap!”
