Argylle (2024)

Spycraft by Mad Libs: four plot twists and a cat walk into a screenplay…

Lets start by showing y’all the trailers shall we?

Since this is a Universal film, Y’all know what that means? Cue the Universal Logo!

🎬 A Director Who Can’t Get Out of His Own Way

Let’s talk about Matthew Vaughn, the man behind this franchise. On paper, he’s a stylish director with flair — he gave us Kick-Ass and the original Kingsman: The Secret Service, both fun, subversive, and full of slick action. But somewhere along the way, he became obsessed with his own creation and forgot the golden rule: story comes first.

There’s something almost tragic here — Vaughn clearly loves this franchise, but he never seems able to get his head out of his own ass long enough to craft a coherent script. Every sequel or spin-off gets bloated with nonsense: cannibal burgers, Rasputin TikTok dance fights, endless plot twists, and tonal whiplash that could give you whiplash. It’s like he keeps throwing darts at a board labeled “LOL shocking moment?” and hopes something sticks.

The problem isn’t lack of talent — Vaughn can direct the hell out of a scene. The action is gorgeous, the cinematography is sleek, the costumes pop. But when it comes to script and tone, he sabotages himself. Instead of sharpening the Kingsman universe into something tight and clever, he bloats it into incoherence. The man’s obsessed with the toys but ignores the toolbox.

So yeah, Matthew Vaughn: thank you for the first film. But with each new entry, you’ve proven one thing — you can’t leave your own franchise alone, and you keep dragging it deeper into chaos instead of greatness.


🎬 Non-Spoiler Plot Overview

Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) is a reclusive author whose Argylle spy novels somehow keep predicting real-world operations. Cue shady agencies, goons on trains, and a scruffy stranger named Aidan (Sam Rockwell) who swears he’s there to save her from a kill squad that wants whatever is in her head. The film ping-pongs between Elly’s imagination (slick fantasy sequences starring Henry Cavill’s superspy “Argylle”) and the “real” chase she’s stuck in… while stacking twist after twist like it’s building a Jenga tower out of clichés.

👥 Characters & Performances

Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard): tries to sell bewildered fish-out-of-water, but the script keeps turning her into a plot device with legs.

Aidan (Sam Rockwell): shambling, snarky, actually alive on screen. Rockwell and the CGI cat are the only consistent wins.

Argylle (Henry Cavill): lives mostly inside Elly’s fantasy sequences, rocking the meme haircut and an oddly padded, broad-shouldered suit. Cavill’s charisma is buried under a wig and dialogue that sounds AI-generated.

(Cameos: Dua Lipa & John Cena): overhyped, underused. They drop in, pose, and evaporate before the movie figures out what to do with them.

The Parents (Bryan Cranston & Catherine O’Hara): stacked talent… deployed like plot furniture.

Samuel L. Jackson: adds universe confusion (more on that in spoilers), and not in a clever way.


⏱️ Pacing / Flow

Front-loaded with glossy fantasy, then a long middle stretch of stop → exposition dump → run → repeat, and a finale that mistakes twists for payoff. The rhythm is off; you feel the movie checking boxes instead of building momentum.

👍 Pros

Sam Rockwell: actually looks like he’s making choices and having fun.

The cat (and VFX around it): surprisingly charming, best running bit.

A few clean visual gags during the action-fantasy cutaways.


👎 Cons

The Haircut + Suit: Cavill’s Lego-helmet bouffant and strange, boxy dark-green suit with linebacker shoulders are instant immersion killers. It reads “out-of-touch uncle playing dress-up,” not lethal superspy.

“Fireworks” line (and the meta self-own): “I’ll show you fireworks,” actual fireworks explode, then even the character winces: “That didn’t sound right.” No kidding. A joke that explains itself isn’t clever—it’s apologizing.

Dua Lipa bait-and-switch: massively hyped; basically a cameo.

Cavill & Cena as agents: never once convincing; they look like handsome cosplayers at a theme party.

Actors not trying / tonal whiplash: elite cast coasting through underwritten scenes while the movie keeps changing its mind about whether it’s a parody, a riff on Bond, or a Kingsman warm-up.

Twist glut: four separate “gotchas” that cancel each other out. Surprise isn’t substance.

Universe confusion: if this ties to Kingsman, you’ve got Samuel L. Jackson effectively playing two different people in the same IP family. That’s not “fun meta,” it’s brand soup.


🧠 Final Thoughts

This wants to be a winky meta-spy romp, but it keeps telling you it’s clever instead of being clever. The jokes apologize for themselves, the action keeps pausing so someone can explain the plot again, and the “whoa!” reveals don’t reveal anything except how desperate the movie is to keep you awake. I laughed a couple times (thanks, Rockwell and the cat), then mostly sat there thinking: who is this for?

Rating: 3/10


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🚨 Spoiler Warning — Full Spoilers Below 🚨

🧩 The Plot-Twist Pileup (all four, with context)

1. The Parents Twist (Predictable): Elly’s “loving parents” (Bryan Cranston, Catherine O’Hara) aren’t just clingy—they’re embedded in the conspiracy and not actually on her side. Casting Bryan Cranston practically telegraphs “surprise, I’m the heavy.” By the time the reveal lands, you’re less shocked than relieved the movie finally said the quiet part out loud.


2. Who’s Argylle? / The Identity Flip: The movie keeps selling Henry Cavill as the superspy, but that persona exists largely in Elly’s head. The “real” operative is Aidan (Rockwell), and Elly herself isn’t just a writer—she’s tied to the life she’s been fictionalizing (amnesiac/brain-wiped backstory vibes). It’s not a terrible idea on paper; here, it plays like a hat on a hat, arriving after the momentum’s already dead.


3. The “Dead-but-Not” Assassin: Early on, the film sets up a stylish assassin (the “black chick” you mentioned) who appears to die… only to later surface via anonymous guidance (like that wound-care email) and then be surprise-alive. Instead of feeling clever, it reads like the movie keeping characters in its back pocket because it can’t commit to consequences.


4. The Crowd Assassin Reveal: Late-game “gotcha”: someone in a crowd/book event flips out to be an assassin. By twist #4, you’re numb. The screenplay thinks stacking reveals equals sophistication. It doesn’t—especially when each twist undoes the last.



🎭 Dialogue & The “Fireworks” Facepalm

That yacht gag is the thesis for why the humor doesn’t land. Cavill’s Argylle purrs, “I’ll show you fireworks,” cue literal fireworks, then he breaks character to admit it was a bad line. That’s the movie in one beat: corny on purpose, then self-aware about being corny—which is still corny. If you have to explain your joke, you didn’t write a better one.

💇‍♂️ The Haircut & Suit (Why it Matters)

Cavill’s helmet-wig and padded suit don’t just look odd; they collapse the fantasy. A superspy design should ooze effortlessness. Instead, it screams costume department dare. Combine that with stiff, mannequin-perfect staging and you get “uncle at a formal night” energy, not “apex operative.”

🎤 Cameos, Hype, and Vanishing Acts

Dua Lipa is marketed like a co-lead, used like a garnish. She materializes for a sizzle-reel moment, then the script forgets she exists. Same for John Cena—he’s a presence, not a character. It’s trailer candy, not storytelling.

📚 The Book-Signing Ending (…why?)

After everything—spy reveals, identity flips, bodies dropping—we end up… back at a book signing. Henry Cavill’s fantasy-Argylle pops back up in the crowd, and Elly is still out here writing books like she didn’t just have her cover blown six different ways. If she’s a spy again, why is she public-facing? If she’s just an author, why are the hallucinated glamour shots still materializing? It’s a button for a different movie.

And then comes the real head-scratcher: Henry Cavill’s Argylle just shows up at Elly’s book signing. Full yellow shirt, mullet, big smile like he just walked off a sitcom set. But wait—wasn’t Argylle supposed to be fictional, a character she invented? That was the entire premise of the movie. So what is this supposed to mean? Is Argylle suddenly real? Is Cavill now playing a “different” Argylle in the flesh? Or is the film just breaking its own rules for a cheap gag? It doesn’t come across as clever—it comes across as confused. Instead of a fun meta twist, it leaves you thinking the movie just contradicted itself.



🧠 Kingsman Connection Rant (Mid/Post-Credits)

The credits stinger(s) tee up a shared-universe wink toward Kingsman—the kind of “gotcha!” that’s meant to send fans into conspiracy boards. Instead, it opens a can of continuity worms:

If this really is the same sandbox, Samuel L. Jackson already exists there as Valentine. Here he’s someone else. That’s not multiverse clever; it’s brand mash that makes both series feel less special.

The tonal DNA doesn’t match. Kingsman is crass-cartoon ultraviolence with a razor-specific attitude. Argylle is meta-mushy and self-conscious. Gluing them together doesn’t elevate Argylle; it dilutes Kingsman.
I had the exact same reaction you did at the tag: “Ha. Nope.”

I’m confused how this is part of the kingsman universe. When those movies are twentieth century fox and this is a universal movie.

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🧷 Receipt-Saver Summary

Four twists, zero payoff.

Best parts: Sam Rockwell and the CGI cat.

Worst parts: the haircut/suit, the self-own dialogue, the bait-and-switch cameos, and a brand-universe tag that creates more problems than hype.


If you’re curious, stream it while you fold laundry. If you want a smart spy romp? Rewatch The Nice Guys or Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and pet a real cat.