There has never been a rule-following Matthew Vaughn. He enjoys doing things his own way, whether it’s his preference for independence, forgoing the conventional studio system, or his joyous genre subversions (superhero tales in Kick-Ass, fantasy adventures in Stardust, and spy pictures in Kingsman). In Argylle, he essentially subverts himself. While it may be another spy movie, he tempers his propensity for extreme violence and gory humor for a rollicking good time with unexpected sweetness. Think of it as a Vaughn film without the parts that make your mother cringe.
The director’s trademark excesses are no longer present, but his playfulness is. Argylle’s overly complicated beginnings—the movie appears to be based on a real novel by author “Elly Conway,” who plays the movie’s lead character and is played by Bryce Dallas Howard—allude to the fact that this is a deliberately aimless film that delves into its own narrative rabbit hole, untangling a number of plot points throughout its duration and paying homage to the fun, frivolity, and style of 1960s spy flicks. Conway’s (Howard) highly regarded Argylle novel series is set in this same environment. Henry Cavill plays the smooth-talking (and smooth-haired) Agent Argylle, who uses sophisticated cocktails, femme fatales, and tumultuous automobile chases to discover a global conspiracy.
With tons to do, Howard and Rockwell work like dynamite together.
But when Elly meets Sam Rockwell’s Aidan, a decidedly un-Argylle-like spy who steps in when the author finds herself under danger, her idealized view of spies collides with reality, as her espionage plots inadvertently reveal real-world truths. This is where Argylle’s real magic starts to show. Howard and Rockwell have a fantastic chemistry together and excellent comic timing, and their connection changes as the story jumps around through several meta layers in a way that is incredibly moving.
Argylle’s weakest moments are carried by that emotional throughline and the giddiness of its continuing revelations. It unfolds so quickly that you hardly have time to wonder if it all makes sense, even as Vaughn’s consistently elegant cinematography occasionally gives way to somewhat lifeless computer-generated imagery. You want the reality in a movie that aims to explore a world beyond espionage fiction to feel more, well, genuine. Legends like Bryan Cranston and Samuel L. Jackson are largely reduced to ranting in empty rooms due to the packed ensemble, and one final mid-credits revelation is a brainteaser on an excessive scale.
But Argylle is superior when it matters most. The action, which is the last effort of the legendary combat coordinator Brad Allan, is creative and has the cutest gunfight ever. Howard and Rockwell work brilliantly together and are given a ton of work to accomplish, while Claudia Schiffer’s cat Chip does an excellent job of bringing the house down. And no dubious jokes either. Enough, then, to get you excited for Conway’s upcoming book.