Through its extensive and bizarre marketing campaign, Matthew Vaughn Large He is repeatedly asked one eponymous question: Who is Agent Argyle? It's a seductive, almost Hitchcock-like question, which prompts viewers to uncover a secret so shocking, it threatens to redefine everything they thought they knew about the film. But when it concludes, the audience is left with another important question: Why should we care? It's a query that ends up being all the more practical, especially since Vaughn's uninteresting spy satire appears to be little more than an amalgam of all the half-baked tropes it seeks to illuminate. In its attempt to deconstruct Bondian influences with a vague, high-concept plot, it retains none of the charm and wit that made it so memorable and, most of all, enjoyable – often becoming the butt of the joke it purports to be.
in the middle Large Lies novelist Ellie Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard), who is coming off the heels of her fifth successful filmy The entry into the “Argylle” spy novel series faces a creative hurdle in crafting the next installment. While heading to visit her mother (Catherine O'Hara), she meets Eden (Sam Rockwell, in the film's only good performance), a real-life agent who tells her that the plot of her latest novel has been inadvertently twisted. He allies himself with and exposes the suspicious activities of a rogue spy organization led by the ruthless Ritter (Bryan Cranston). With a group of evil henchmen hunting her, she must rely on Eden to not only survive but also to uncover the conspiracy in which she finds herself embroiled.
Large She hopes to introduce a metatextual wrinkle to her globe-trotting adventure by having Ellie's literary creation, secret agent Argyle (Henry Cavill), flash across the screen as Aiden's double. But the effect, meant to mimic spy films, falls flat at every turn. Especially since its fantasy sequences – full of the deliberate clichés that 007 might spout – unfold just like their “real life” counterparts. Neither Elly or Aiden resemble real people, having more in common with the plastic caricatures that Vaughn and company parody than anything else. Cranston's character Ritter is the animated embodiment of every cliche, paper-bound supervillain, from his menacing smile to his violent treatment of his subordinates.
as a result of, Large It becomes the very poor, thinly written genre that climbs to poke holes in it. He repeatedly sways for the slightest low-hanging fruit with groan-inducing dialogue like “It seems we serve the same master” or, worse yet, “Let the lamb roar.” What makes matters worse is that Large He thinks we're laughing with him during these moments, when we're really laughing at him.
Any chance of Argyll's overbearing narrative hitting its target is squandered by overly polished filmmaking, which eliminates the experience of any identity and personality – something whose obvious effects could hardly be accused of lacking. The flatly lit cinematography gives way to a flurry of choppy action sequences defined by their over-reliance on hackneyed slow-motion and reaction shots that more or less consist of Ellie's computer-generated cat staring indignantly. Vaughn's insistence on backing these scenes with a constant stream of eye-rolling needle drops—the most soulless of which is the recently restored Beatles song “Now and Then”—puts an emphatic stamp on the extent of the banality and vulgarity. Large Feel.
For every twist that's easily predictable and confusingly convenient, the film's central mystery still lacks noticeable bite. An unfortunate effect is that the non-stop, annoying monochromatic flashbacks only exacerbate it. The most Large Explaining its convoluted plot, the less we care, especially since each revelation forces these already deep characters to shift gears and radically change how they interact with each other. The result is at once discordant and lifeless, culminating in a hallway action sequence that aims for operatic and idiosyncratic action but rings hollow with every falsetto maneuver.
At its best, Large It is the cinematic equivalent of an extremely boring escape room. What could have been a sly satire of the much-loved spy genre was undone by the weaknesses and failures that plagued it. Vaughn's haphazard attempt to tie it into the Kingsman franchise and tease a supposed sequel is a forgettable final nail in the film's coffin. If nothing else, Large It will make viewers appreciate the hackneyed, over-the-top spirit of spy movies that much more – but not in the way it was intended.
