By Mitch Huttema (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: March 25, 2015
A classic Bond film meets Austin Powers and Spy Kids, Kingsman: The Secret Service is an unapologetically self-aware spy thriller. There is every mark of the spy classic: a beautiful woman, the evil mastermind, world domination, a visit to the weapon and science lab, and an overwhelming amount of fighting.
Colin Firth, Michael Caine, and Taron Egerton star in a classic spy-thriller-turned-parody, facing-off against billionaire creator of the internet Valentine (Samuel L. Jackson) as he turns the world over into chaos. Kingsman follows “Eggsy” (Taron Egerton) as he competes to join the Kingsman, an independent spy firm. Eggsy is a poor suburban genius-turned street-punk because of his abusive stepfather. He is picked up by the Kingsman as a favour to his long-dead dad who was killed in action competing for the same position Eggsy eventually strives for. The spy force faces off with Valentine, an eccentric billionaire with no stomach for violence, as he plans to take over the world through his free cell phone networks.
There’s a story that’s been told a hundred times: the villain catches the hero, gives away the whole secret plan, the hero gets away, saves the day and gets the girl — but that’s not this film. When Valentine has one of the Kingsman in his clutches they talk about how both of them love the classics, but Valentine says, “This isn’t that kind of movie.” Throughout the film, references to cliché structures come again and again, but each time the clichés are confronted and literally denied by each of the actors.
Where this film departs from the genre norm is in its action sequences. Normally action sequences are overacted and cheesy, but in Kingsman they are incredibly gruesome, raw, and extensive. The extravagant blood and gore is strangely reminiscent of Quentin Tarantino’s style of violence.
Nearly every action film attempts to disguise its stunts and killing through shaky camerawork, quick cuts, blurred motion, and explosions; not so with Kingsman. Through every fight scene, the camera follows the fist of the attacker as it connects with the opponent, then slides around and flows along with a kick to the chest, a pool cue through the head, and so on — all combined in one clear shot. Though the action is drawn out, the audience sits stunned as they try to determine if what they are seeing is actually real or computer-animated. Never before has action been interpreted like this.
Though the plot is entirely contrived, absolutely absurd, and completely inexplicable, this parody is a home-run of the classic blow-shit-up mindless action films that America so loves. Kingsman’s uncompromising smack at formulaic spy thrillers is executed nearly perfectly, though it may not be for anyone who takes themselves too seriously to enjoy some good old-fashioned satire.
