I love Colin Firth. Ever since the “Pride and Prejudice” series of 1995, he has been the actor to watch. So “Kingsman: The Secret Service”, starring the handsome Brit, was greatly anticipated. We missed it at the movie theater, so we kept waiting for it to come up for rent on Amazon or Netflix. The tight-fisted Amazon held it for ransom so long (full sale price), that we wound up buying it from Walmart.
Never again will we buy a pig in a poke. In spite of rave reviews about Taron Egerton, who played Eggsy, I was not impressed. He got on my nerves. If the producers had made the movie along the lines shown in the trailers, it should have been good. You couldn’t fault the acting of Colin Firth or Samuel L. Jackson, although often cartoonish. My problem with Samuel L. Jackson is not his acting. It’s the fact that he chooses parts where he wallows in sewer language. It obscures the fact that he can act.
We were not only disappointed, we cringed throughout the unnecessarily vulgar display. The trailers never gave even a hint of the ever flowing filth that came out of the mouths of the actors. I know that most people these days are inured to this assault upon their souls and their senses, but we are not. There are some movies we tolerate for the sake of the story, but not many. Especially when it is completely unnecessary.
What is funny about being blasted with expletives? What is funny about F-bombs tainting the air on screen, in the sanctity of your home, and in your head, polluting your thoughts and leaving an oily film on your mind? It’s like walking through a cow pasture and playing in the dung. I suppose, after a while, you get used to the smell. But what does that say about you?
And do movie producers think their product will draw more viewers if word-feces are smeared in their faces. Do they think we sit around waiting for a movie to come out and say to ourselves, “Oh, I hope they have lots of four-letter words so I can be highly entertained”? Yes, there is that type of viewer, but I don’t think those make up the majority. The majority are those who have numbed their ears and mind to the filth and the stink.
Therefore, we have social situations in which I once found myself, where a man used the F-word and others in front of my then five-year-old granddaughter. I came up out of my chair, leaned across the table with my knuckles planted hard, and got in his face. In a low, grim voice I said, “If you EVER talk that way around my child again, I will take you down.”
I am tired of producers taking it for granted that people who love GOOD movies need overt titillation, an assault upon our senses with a sledgehammer. For those viewers who do love it, let them make movies just for them. In the trailers for “Kingsman: The Secret Service”, they hid the crap behind a smokescreen of movie clips picked as delicately as a bouquet. The trailers were a LIE, and if you’ve seen them, you’ve seen the best of “Kingsman”.
We watched it all the way through because we had bought the blasted thing. The ending was so crude it was beyond cringing. Therefore, we won’t even give this movie away. We will smash it. If you love it in spite of everything, I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t even want to know you’re out there contributing to this travesty.
As in the old “Dear Abby” letters, sign me — Disgusted, Disappointed, and Degraded By Association.
Here’s a cartoon of a really big cow pie. Enjoy.