I always root for Matthew Vaughn. Even when I know I have no reason to do so.
It’s all thanks to his first couple of features. The superlative Stardust and Kingsman are fantastic enough to warrant such good faith. At best, Vaughn’s films are a perfect marriage of spectacle and lowbrow goofiness. Stardust is as important to the fairy tale genre as Princess Bride.
Having said that, it’s getting harder to get excited about his work. In the last decade, Vaughn has disappeared into the rabbit hole of his Kingsman universe. The sequels, Kingsman: The Golden Circle and The King’s Man, were dull at best, and offensive at worst. So there’s a gentle excitement about seeing him return to original material once more. Even if it’s yet another spy caper.
Sadly, Argylle is nothing to write home about. It may not share a direct line with Kingsman, but it does share every single misstep instead.
Bryce Dallas Howard plays Elly, the awkward writer behind the Argylle books. A worldwide hit that has thrust her into the limelight. With goofy cameos from Henry Cavill and John Cena, they are the best part of the film. Simple, good-natured schlock about two beefcakes who save the world with equal parts brains and brawn. Only now, Elly can’t figure out how the series comes to an end.
One day, Elly encounters Aiden (Sam Rockwell), a disheveled mega fan, on the train. He claims to work as a secret agent, and it’s not long before he’s fending off faceless goons with gleeful abandon. Turns out Elly’s imagination is better than she realized. Her books have predicted real world events, which sets a rogue agency on her trail. They want to know what happens next, and have no qualms to hurt everyone dear to Elly to get their way.
Where the story goes next is easy to guess. Despite twists and turns, it’s impossible to call Argylle a surprising film at any point. But that’s hardly a knock. After all, Kingsman is as straightforward as can be, and it still manages to entertain.
But Argylle is also over two hours long, and it barely has enough story to warrant half of that. By the time we get to the fifth plot twist, I began to glance at my watch. Instead of intrigue, there’s another overblown set piece that doesn’t thrill.
This repetition of excess has become a trademark for Vaughn, who can’t say no to a single idea. Even if they’re a detriment to the big picture. At some point, I admired that audacity. Now, it feels burdensome. It’s maximalist filmmaking without the heart, which separates Vaughn from filmmakers like Baz Luhrmann.
You can’t blame Howard or Rockwell, either. Both are affable and charismatic in their parts. Even when the script gives no reason to think so. Rockwell even has pedigree with this kind of scruffy hero. His turn in Confessions of a Dangerous Mind is one of the best unsung leading roles in memory. Howard is radiant and fun, but it’s a shame the underwritten role is bereft of any meat.
In theory, Argylle should be a lot of fun. But that would require for it to decide what kind of film it is. The fantasy bits with Cena and Cavill are a hoot. Everything else remains in a halfway state between too serious and smug. Like it’s telling a private joke we’re not cool enough to get.
It’s also a surprisingly ugly film. At first, I figured the clunky CGI and poor staging was because of a limited budget. I was shocked to see the total is in the ballpark of 200 million. There’s little to excuse things looking this drab and lifeless.
Argylle is not a complete waste, and it’s certainly not as bad as the dumpster fire Ghosted from last year. But it’s never as fun as it thinks it is, and the runtime is a test of patience. At 90 minutes, it would be far more tolerable, though not perfect.
Now, it’s a case of diminishing returns even before it hits the halfway mark. A film that I want to like more than I actually do, and one I doubt I’ll return to again.