The Mix : What are people talking about today?

Mindy Newell: Charm City

I spent last weekend at the Baltimore Comic-Con with my niece, Isabel, in all her cosplay glory: not just one, but three terrific outfits. Oh, yeah, also in attendance were ComicMixers Mike Gold, Joe Corallo, Glenn Hauman, Evelyn Kriete, and Emily S. Whitten (Denny O’Neil had to cancel). Unfortunately, Isabel and cosplayer supreme Emily never had a chance to meet because whenever Emily showed up, Iz was off checking out the con and also spending her aunt’s money. (How much of her aunt’s money? Let’s just say that I am a very indulgent aunt. *smile*)

Izzy and I only made it to one panel. I don’t remember the exact name because I am old and getting older – though my ego was boosted when more than one person I met that weekend took me for 14 years younger – but it was about industry women and their opinions on where the industry is today and where it’s headed. The topic turned to comic book shops and the unfortunately still ubiquitous problem of fan boys (and I do mean “fan boys” in an insulting manner) unable to deal with OMG!!!! There’s a creature with two enormous growths on its chest!!!! in the store.

Auntie Mindy was plotzing as Isabel added her opinion to the discussion, comparing her own experiences with bullying by classmates for her love of comics and gaming to the unhappy experiences of many of the women in the audience who talked about what they encounter when they enter their local “He-Man Women Haters Club.”   

I also must admit that, although I have been the subject of bullying (as I mentioned in a previous column), I’ve never experienced it in a comic book store; have never even thought about it, to tell you the truth. Either I have been very lucky in my choices of where I bring my business, or the fact that comics emporia became a fact of comics reading life when I was already an adult prevented the “fan boys” from daring to open their mouths to me.

I also should admit that I don’t really understand the women who let it bother them – as I said at the panel, “to paraphrase Bryant Gumbel or Bob Costas on their show(s) talking about sports, the only color that matters is green. As in $$$$.” In other words, it’s a really stupid proprietor who makes a customer feel, at the very least, uncomfortable, in his store.

I also want to publicly apologize to the lovely young woman who was sitting a couple of rows behind me to whom I think I was rather rude. She was recounting the time when she went into a comic book store and some jackass said to her, “I’ve never seen a woman in her before” (I may be paraphrasing – again, my brain is hijacked), and how it made her feel so uncomfortable.  I turned around to her and said, “And then you say, ‘Well, now you have.’” I guess you had to be there – I said it with a lot of snarkiness – she kinda blinked. I think I apologized to her, but, anyway, I don’t know if she reads this column, but it’s been bothering me, so I wanted to put it out there. I’m sorry, lovely young woman with black hair. I was really rude. In fact, I think I was guilty of a bit of bullying myself.

Other than that, Izzy and I had a great time. In fact, I would say that a good time was had by all.

Except… for the drive home. When the Giants demonstrated the axiom “no guts, no glory,” after blowing a 21-point lead and they chose to punt instead of going for it on a 4th and 1, allowing the Eagles and rookie Jake Elliot to drill a 61-yeard field goal as time expired.

That really sucked.

P.S.: As I write this, the Giants are down 5, 14 – 22, to the Buccaneers. There is 3:22 left in the game. Gi’nts just called a time-out. Will it be 0 and 4, or 1 and 3?

 

Ed Catto: Great Graphic Novels, Old and New               

There’s a peculiar mix of older graphic novels and new graphic novels in our home right now. The new stuff is all part of a top-secret project I’m working on with my daughter, Tess. We can’t let the cat out of the bag yet, but you can check out her showcase of street art for the sneak peek tease. (And now that I think about it, who even puts cats into bags ?!?)

I’m struck by the wide variety of engaging, superlative creative endeavors we cram under the umbrella term “graphic novel.” While there’s one line of thinking that argues Geek Culture has outgrown the phrase “graphic novel,” it’s still handy and flexible enough for hardcore fans, casual fans, librarians, and bookstore owners.

Here are a few of the so-called Old Graphic Novels floating around here:

  • Fiction Illustrated Vol. 3 featured Chandler and was originally presented as “Steranko’s first visual novel, a ground-breaking blend of pictures, words and graphic design…”. It’s a gripping noir mystery with a stylish sense of visual design. I enjoy it more every time I re-read it. There are so many instances when you could say that Jim Steranko is at his best and this is one of them.
  • Gil Kane’s Blackmark is a sci-fi/sword and sorcery thriller that was first published as a Bantam paperback in 1971. Veteran comic artist Kane told this story with illustrated panels, captions, and only the occasional word balloon. Interestingly, with eerily parallels to today’s willful ignorance of climate change, this adventure takes place in a time when “Science is abominated, its secrets buried, its last adherents scourged and cast out by the people…” And the results weren’t pretty. Even when rendered by Gil Kane.
  • The Stars My Destination was an award-winning novel by Golden Age Green Lantern writer Alfred Bester, but for many, it really came to life when Howard Chaykin and Bryon Preiss collaborated on the graphic novel version. It’s a detailed adventure that expects the reader to keep up from the get-go. Chaykin, as you probably know, has a rich history of providing topnotch comics and graphic novels. He shows no sign of slowing down as he continues with his provocative The Divided States of Hysteria, published by Image.

And just so you don’t think I’m too enamored with the past, here are a few of the Newer Graphic Novels scattered around here:

  • Emil Ferris rocked the comics world last year with her debut graphic novel, My Favorite Thing is Monsters. It’s a wild ride by an unconventional, yet monstrously (sorry, couldn’t resist) talented creator. It was instantly talked about and then difficult to get. Now it’s available everywhere. With her clever illustrations and natural storytelling ability, Ferris shows readers how to create something spectacular and incorporate some of your favorite things along the way,
  • Charles Burns isn’t really the David Lynch of comics, but I can see why you might think that. His work is often confusing, dense and just a little bit creepy. As a reader, however, you feel that he would never take the easy way out. Burns engages his audience in a complicated covenant based on a respect for intelligence and his making-it-look easy skills. His 2012 The Hive is part of the trilogy but it stands well enough on its own. Of particular note to lovers of old comics, Burns absolutely nails the zeitgeist of old DC romance comics and John Romita romance art in particular.
  • Francisco Francavilla is absurdly likable as both a person and an artist. He’s hard-working, optimistic and personable when you meet him. Artistically, he uses his creations to embrace everything he loves and then wraps it all up with innovative design and unexpected color. You may be enjoying his current work from Dynamite on Will Eisner’s The Spirit: The Corpse Makers. His latest Graphic Novel, Black Beetle: Kara Bocek is a collection of short installments, originally appearing in Dark Horse Presents, featuring Francavilla’s own pulp hero.

  • Jim Henson’s Tale of Sand, as realized by Ramon K. Perez, came out a few years ago and I got my copy as part of the swag bag at the Baltimore Comic-Con award ceremony. (As an aside, the Baltimore Comic-Con just held the first annual Ringo Awards, which will become the new awards ceremony at this well-respected comic-con. I heard it all went very well. Kudos to all!) Tale of Sand is a skillfully rendered tale full of compelling moxie.

And, for a graphic novel that’s A Little Bit Old and a Little Bit New, let me offer this one up:

  • Classic Comics Press just released Kelly Green: The Complete Collection by Stan Drake and Leonard Starr. The hardcover collects five Kelly Green graphic novels from the 80s. As a bonus, it also contains one story that was never printed in English, The Comic-Con Heist, that’s all about Geek Culture. These adventures are sexy thrillers with realistic, sexy art by Starr at top of his creative game.

So many great things to read. I’ve got to read fast in order to also get to my Fast Company and Inc. Magazine.

John Ostrander: Face Front, True Believers!

You may be wondering just what the heck is going on here with my face.

Alt. Explanation 1: You should see the other guy. Be-YOO-Ti-Full! Not a mark on him! It was a privilege to see him work!

Alt. Explanation 2: I leaped out of the second floor of the burning house, the kitten cradled in my arms and I landed on my face.

Alt. Explanation 3: Don’t piss off Mary. Which I may have just done. (Just Joking, Dear!)

Alt. Explanation 4: My face got nibbled by piranha. (Don’t ask.)

Alt. Explanation 5: I had some minor growths on my face that my doctor wanted to be checked out and so the skin doctor nicked them off and sent them to the lab. Probably not cancer but we’ll know for sure in about two weeks.

So… which one sounds like the true explanation? That’s right – the boring one. #5. However unlikely the other four sound, they are potentially the more entertaining stories, true or not.

You see, I am a professional liar. It’s how I make my living. I make up stories and try to make them seem/feel real so that other people buy them. Companies pay me to do this.

The lies I tell (okay, the “fictions”) are in service to the truth or to a truth. They have to feel true, feel real, to the reader at least for the duration of the experience. Hey, Jesus did it. He spoke to them (the crowds) in parables and without parables, he did not speak to them. Matthew 13:34. You can look it up. The events in the parables never happened; they’re lies – in service to truths Jesus was trying to teach. It’s the same in all religions.

I include “non-fiction” in this. The authors aren’t telling the whole truth – they focus on certain events, emphasizing these, de-emphasizing those, depending on the narrative they’re telling. They are after the (a) truth and we need those liars who can take the mountain of events and find context and meaning – truth – in them.

That’s the big difference between artists and (shall we say) certain government spokespersons – the artist is after the truth and the spokesperson is trying to sell something. That’s a whole different kind of lie. It is, as often as not, intended to obscure or confuse what is true while the artist is trying to get at some form of the truth, to reveal it. Intent is everything.

The intent of four of the five explanations for the photograph of my face is to amuse you and entertain myself. Those of you who know me and Mary know she would never hit me except once with a plastic whiffle bat.

That’s a good story, a fun lie, but for another time.

Marc Alan Fishman: Can I Love the Art But Not the Artist?

I’ve been perplexed. As I’m sure so many of you have been paying at least a modicum of attention to the comings and goings of our President, no doubt you’ve seen a rise of discourse throughout your social feeds and TV screens concerning the separation of art and the artist.

OK, it’s really an argument about whether using the national anthem as the background for non-violent protest is offensive. Okay. Follow me here, kiddos.

Among the master debaters I’ve followed, one argument floated to the top of my gaze. It was the notion that professional athletes are in fact paid to entertain and therefore should be reprimanded and subjugated to dismissal from their jobs if their actions fail to entertain the fanbase of said sports team from which they hail. In short, I think that argument is hilariously off-base. Professional athletes are in fact paid to play a game. Yes, they are company men who must project the professional je ne sais quoi of their team out in the real world. But they are American and are actually free to act as they see fit. Taking a knee during a song is not a fire-able offense. Period.

If you disagree, I know no amount of my chortling will change your mind. I welcome you to leave my column. Door is over there to the left, marked “Ignorance is bliss.” You find that offensive? Too bad. This is America and I can label my door anyway I want. Especially when the door isn’t real.

This whole kerfuffle led me down a path though – taking to heart the idea that certain artists (musicians, writers, fine artists, etc.) whose work I am fond of may hold different political, religious, or personal opinions than my own. And upon learning these things… could I in fact still enjoy their art separate from themselves?

Let’s start with comic books. Bill Willingham, Frank Miller, Ethan Van Sciver, and Chuck Dixon have each let slip their leanings towards a more conservative mindset. I’d even go as far as to say that I once followed one those men on Facebook before learning of said leaning. A few ranty posts later, I delightfully unfollowed them and skipped on down the road. I’ve read (and loved) a ton of Fables. Green Lantern: Rebirth remains one of my favorite series of all time. The Dark Knight Rises and Sin City are masterpieces worthy of college class theses.  And Chuck Dixon penned nearly a baker’s dozen of books I absorbed in my adolescence. Knowing what I know about who each of these men may have voted for hasn’t stopped me from loving any of their work since.

That being said, I felt no need to read Holy Terror.

While I personally never liked Kid Rock or Ted Nugent, I’d be lying if I said I’ve never bobbed my head to Bawitdaba or Cat Scratch Fever.

Remove the political leanings of any of the known conservative actors – Arnold Schwarzenegger, Clint Eastwood, Vince Vaughn, Chuck Norris, Angie Harmon, or even that Jew-loving Mel Gibson to name but a few – and I could easily rattle off any number of their works that I’ve willingly forked over cash to enjoy. All the while knowing about their personal viewpoints being dissonant from my own.

It we cannot separate the art from the artist, we push ourselves down a slippery slope. While I wish the matter was black and white (pun intended, I suppose), shades of grey still permeate my periphery. The other day I happened upon a marathon of The Cosby Show and was tempted to revel in what I largely consider one of the best sitcoms of all time. But Bill Cosby himself feels tainted to me. And while I know deep down Hulk Hogan is likely amicable to everyone in his personal life, or those men he danced with in the squared circle. But I’d be lying if I said that when I hear I am a real American play during some nostalgic top ten on WhatCulture: that I don’t immediately recall Terry Bollea’s racist gaffe. And it causes me to just go ahead and skip to the next video. So is life.

Where to fall now, though? For me, the litmus test lies in the totality of the person, and the quality of the art. There’s an algorithm to determine where my personal line of demarcation exists, but I’d like to think that if a person is civil in their ability to voice their opinion, if they consider the time and place when to share it and their ability to listen to the opposition with an open mind, then let them do and be free.

Let their art stand on its own, should it be art that is separate from their personal opinions. Because without that open mind, I know I’m only shuttering myself to worlds not yet explored. And that would be wholly un-American of me.

REVIEW: Transformers: The Last Knight

REVIEW: Transformers: The Last Knight

The Transformers mythology is an eons-long inter-galactic tale that is rich in its own history. We have the rise of intelligent techno-organic lifeforms, a split between rival points of view, and a struggle for supremacy. All along the way, for reasons that are never spelled out in their history, Earth has been of particular interest to the Autobots and Decepticons.

That much has powered countless comics, animated episodes, and four live-action feature films. Rather than marvel at the wonders of the cosmos or reveal to us why the planet is important, the fifth installment, The Last Knight, retrofit the Knights of the Round Table to an already convoluted and, frankly, boring film series. This film, out now on disc from Paramount Home Entertainment, more or less retreads the first four films, mixing returning humans and Transformers and adding in a few new figures to freshen things, and yet, no one cares. The film was widely panned and crashed at the box office, another sequel that failed to interest its core audience nor attract new fans.

The blame clearly has to be laid at the feet of director Michael Bay, who is endlessly repeating himself and may have grown just as bored as his audience. The title is a clear link between Cybertron and King Arthur (Liam Garrigan) and tries to make this mess sound important. We have Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen) turned into his evil twin Nemesis Prime, we have Quintessa (Gemma Chan), who claims to be leader of the Decpticons and a physical manifestation of  Unicron, the source for all Transformers, and even Viviane Wembly (Laura Haddock), who turns out to be Merlin’s descendant, channeling the great wizard. Lots of reincarnation and resurrection, but really, lots of sound and fury without signifying a damn thing we care about.

Mark Wahlberg is back and we wonder why, much as we question Stanley Tucci and Anthony Hopkins slumming here for the paycheck. What should be a Big Kids’ action-adventure romp has grown weighty and ponderous with each successive installment so we can hope the pitiful box office means they will retire or at least retool.

The film is available in all the usual digital formats including the popular Blu-ray, DVD, Digital HD combo pack. There, the high def transfer is sharp and satisfying, surpassed by the top notch audio track.

And if you think the film franchise is tired, the extras carry that theme onto a bonus second Blu-ray disc. There, you can watch Merging Mythologies (19:53), Climbing the Ranks (8:48), The Royal Treatment: Transformers in the UK (27:04), Motors and Magic (14:47), Alien Landscape: Cybertron (7:15), and One More Giant Effin’ Movie (6:45). What it needed was a primer on the larger Transformers mythology and how this film fits in.

 

 

Win a Cult of Chucky Combo Pack

  • News
  • September 29, 2017

You can’t keep a good demonically possessed doll down. Cult of Chucky,  wwill be available on Blu-ray, DVD and Digital HD October 3rd,  and thnaks to our friends at Universal Home Entertainment, we have one combo pack to give away.

Written and directed by Don Mancini, Cult of Chucky brings back original Child’s Play cast member Alex Vincent (Child’s Play, Wait Until Spring, Bandini) as Andy Barclay along with Oscar®-nominee Jennifer Tilly (Curse of Chucky, Monsters, Inc.) as Chucky’s bloodthirsty bride, Tiffany and Fiona Dourif (Messenger, True Blood) as Nica with Brad Dourif (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Halloween) returning as the voice of Chucky, the homicidal plaything inhabited by the spirit of notorious serial killer Charles Lee Ray.

Confined to an asylum for the criminally insane for the past four years, Nica (Dourif) is wrongly convinced that she, not Chucky, murdered her entire family. But when her psychiatrist introduces a new group-therapy tool — a “Good Guy” doll — a string of grisly deaths plague the asylum and Nica starts to wonder if maybe she isn’t crazy after all.

For you to win, all you have to tell us which childhood toy truly terrified you and why. We need your responses no later than 11:59 p.m., Wednesday, October 3.  The contest is open only to North American readers and the decision of ComicMix‘s judges will be final.

Martha Thomases: Banning Yourself

This week is Banned Book Week. Read a banned book.

Luckily (I say sarcastically), more and more often, this means to read a comic book or graphic novel.

I think this happens because, despite nearly three decades of graphic novels aimed at adults, comics are still perceived as a children’s medium. Almost all defenses of censorship wrap themselves in the guise of protecting kids from “harmful” ideas. What constitutes “harm,” is, of course, wildly unspecific. It can be sexual content. It can be political content. It can be the idea that racial differences don’t make one group of people less (or more) human than another.

Most recently, it seems that most objections to graphic novels have to do with LGBTQ content as if the mere existence of queer people is in and of itself obscene. To quote Marika Tamaki (This One Summer), “I stand by my assertion that any person who wants a book removed from a library for having queer content should have to make their case to a panel of LGBTQ readers as to why their lives shouldn’t be represented in the library.”

Banning other points of view doesn’t make reality change, it only makes the perception of reality change. So banning books with queer characters doesn’t make everybody straight.

I assume most of you know how strongly ComicMix supports the First Amendment. I also assume you know about the many such organizations that support free speech and diversity of opinion.

Therefore, I’m going to talk about another form of censorship — self-censorship. This isn’t a First Amendment issue, but I think it can be just as relevant to you, Constant Reader, and to living your fullest life. I’m going to talk about going out of your way to encounter other points of view.

It is easier than ever to live one’s life without ever hearing a significant disagreement. I, personally, live in one of the most progressive zip codes in the country. I read lots of news and opinions, online and on paper, and while I watch less television news than I used to (talking heads drive me batty, because they rarely dig down into facts but rather tend to blather in sound-bites), I still spend a few hours a day trying to keep up with the world.

And I still don’t see every perspective.

Here’s an example. During the debate over the GOP plans to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act, I heard a lot of different perspectives about what was wrong and right about Obamacare. However, I didn’t see any actual defense about what was in the specific bills designed to replace it. The CBO said the plans would push tens of millions out of the insurance markets, and I couldn’t find a single Congressperson who said this was a good thing, or why.

When we discuss what’s wrong with the news media, I would say right there is a problem. Reporters weren’t asking that question.

Lucky for me, the New York Times did, finally, run a few Op-Ed pieces defending the Republican plans or criticizing Democratic plans on policy terms, not popularity contests. I disagree with both of these columns (and we can discuss that in the comments, if you like), but I appreciated the thoughtful — even wonky — articulation of the situation.

As a fan of graphic story-telling, I especially enjoy a deep dive into other worldviews. Most recently, I’ve found it in Irmina and The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye. The first showed me how it felt to be a loyal German in World War II, and the latter immersed me in the history of Singapore that was entirely new to me (and I studied Asian history in college).

Censorship is wrong, not only because it shuts people out, but because it shuts them up. I will never be able to consider every opinion and perspective, but my life would not be worth living if I couldn’t try.

REVIEW: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

REVIEW: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales

A good franchise finds nooks and crannies to explore, taking the beloved characters to new places, letting us see how they handle new challenges or opponents.

A bad franchise retreads the elements from the first offering without really making any effort to show us anything new or to deepen our affection for the character(s).

This summer, sadly, we have been presented with several misfires starting with Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales. Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) was a breath of fresh air when he first stepped ashore many, many years ago. But the tipsy captain with the heart of gold and squishy moral code is pretty much the same here, film number five. We’re learning nothing new about him, we’re seeing him do nothing we haven’t seen before and frankly, we’re bored.

Visually, Dead Men Tell No Tales, is fine. The sea looks lovely, the costumes, props, sets, and ships are nicely rendered and detailed. But we’ve seen dead pirates rise from the grave, we’ve seen sea battles, we’ve seen people swoon or swing at Jack.

His initial supporting cast is now largely gone through attrition which is a shame since they livened up the story. His closest comrades, Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) and Elizabeth Swann (Kiera Knightley) fell in love, married, and had a kid more or less ending their saga. The son, Henry (Brenton Thwaites) is now a man and is seeking a way to save dear old dad from eternal service aboard the Flying Dutchman. His quest has him cross paths with Jack, and we realize after two decades, he’s much the same. A Jack confronting age and mortality might have been interesting but Terry Rossio, back for one more bite of the apple, and co-writer Jeff Nathanson aren’t interested in that.

They came up with yet another relic, Poseidon’s Trident, and used that as the Maguffin to move the pieces around the seven seas. We do meet Carina (Kaya Scodelario), an amateur astronomer, who is interesting but doesn’t really play as large a part as she might have. When they encounter Jack, he is a lost man, without his beloved crew or powerful compass. Its loss, somehow triggers the resurrection of Captain Armando Salazar (Javier Bardem) and his undead crew but, yawn, we’ve seen that, too.

In the end, we see justice and true love triumph, we have fine cameos from Bloom and Knightley and even Sir Paul McCartney turns up. But really, we’re done and hopefully so is Disney.

The film was digitally photographed and the Digital HD copy that was reviewed was sharp, crisp, and just a delight to watch on the flatscreen. The DTS-HD Master Audio 7.1 lossless soundtrack is also excellent so at least we’re getting a pretty film to enjoy despite the content’s shortcomings.

The film is also available in 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray, and DVD in varying combinations. Most contain the usual assortment of so-so extras including Dead Men Tell No Tales: The Making of a New Adventure: A seven-part behind-the-scenes feature made up of  A Return to the Sea (3:33); Telling Tales: A Sit-Down with Brenton & Kaya (8:48); The Matador & The Bull: Secrets of Salazar & the Silent Mary (13:38); First Mate Confidential (8:48); Deconstructing the Ghost Sharks (3:50); Wings Over the Caribbean (5:11); and, An Enduring Legacy (3:59).

Additionally, there are some amusing Bloopers of the Caribbean (2:58), Jerry Bruckheimer Photo Diary (1:40), and four Deleted Scenes (2:59).

Tweeks Robotic Lootwear Unboxing

We were just saying that we hadn’t done a Loot Unboxing (Unbagging?) in awhile and then just as we got home from school and started wondering how late we’d be up editing interview footage after getting home from seeing The Red Shoes up in LA and then we saw this month’s Loot Wear package on the kitchen counter with today’s mail. You can’t argue with the Universe.

But what is even better is that this is probably the best Loot Wear package we’ve gotten all year. This month’s Robotic theme brought us a very cool woven button down Alien shirt, a ST:NG cute Data cardi, a Mega Man T, some Bender socks & undies, and argyle Invader Zim socks. So check out our swag.

Box Office Democracy: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Kingsman: The Secret Service was such a breath of fresh air when it came out.  It was an action comedy that didn’t decide it could skip out on the action choreography part.  Matthew Vaughn made a movie that was all the way both things.  It was honestly a bit shocking to experience after so many Austin Powers movies where not giving a damn was basically part of the fabric of the movie.  Obviously there’s no element of surprise with Kingsman: The Golden Circle but the formula is still solidly there.  This is an action comedy that wants to have it both ways and while it’s perhaps a little worse on both ends there’s a solid movie in here anyway.

While Kingsman: The Secret Service was taking the piss out of the cliche British spy tropes, for Kingsman: The Golden Circle Vaughn decides to invent some American ones to lampoon.  Instead of being prim and proper buttoned-up bespoke suit salesman the Statesmen are rough and tumble cowboys who make whiskey (and bicker with their UK counterparts on whether that last e belongs there).  It’s fun and more importantly I think it underlines for the American audience how absurd the characters are in the first movie.  An audience raised on James Bond movies might think that’s actually what England is like so having that mirror held up can make all of the original jokes hit a bit harder.  Is an electrified lasso that cuts through anything it touches completely ridiculous? Yes, but not that much more than the see-through umbrella nonsense from the first movie.

I’ve been sitting here for more than five minutes trying to figure out how I would end the sentence “Kingsman: The Golden Circle is about” without completely failing.  On one hand it seems to be about how drug prohibition is ineffective as public policy but the people involved in the drug trade are universally unlikeable.  It might be about how hypocritically we deal with illegal drugs versus legal ones like alcohol but there’s no actual condemnation of alcohol use and, in fact, even in the closing minutes we are asked to celebrate the liquor industry.  Maybe it’s about the nihilism at the heart of political debate surrounding drugs but they don’t hit that very hard.  I appreciate that I wasn’t beat over the head with a message (especially one about drugs) because I don’t need to be preached to but this movie kind of exists in a nebulous in the middle which feels more like a fear of committing or, perhaps, like a slew of studio notes.

The standout scene in the first Kingsman is the fight scene in the church set to an ever quickening version of “Freebird” and there’s no scene in this movie that’s better than that.  I don’t understand why you would make a sequel if you weren’t prepared to do a heightened version of the signature scene from your first movie.  There are two attempts to top it and they come close with a fight during a car chase in the beginning but the third act melee is obviously their main attempt and it’s flat.  I’ve seen spies effortlessly deal with nameless mooks dozens of times before and it isn’t special like a church full of drug-fueled nobodies did.  The sequences aren’t bad or anything and in a generic movie I would probably be gushing about them, but to be in a movie called Kingsman it needed to be better.

I’m cautiously optimistic on Kingsman as a franchise.  There’s good bones here and as long as every spy movie has to constantly race to be the most serious it can be, having a release valve like this is essential.  Serious action combined with a ludicrous backdrop makes for a winning combination and I can even accept a romcom-esque meeting (the parents scene) dropped in in the middle.  The high body counts mean it’s easy to churn in new talent (and maybe eventually Channing Tatum will have time to actually be in one of these) and their willingness to hand wave any consequences with super-science means that they only have to be as macabre as they want.  The franchise needs to push itself, Vaughn can’t rest on his laurels like he sort of did with the action sequences in this one, but as long as this is willing to be arch and wry while James Bond is stuck trying to out-grim himself every time out, Kingsman is going to continue to feel like a breath of fresh air.

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