The King’s Man: Kingsman Franchise Origin Story Not Much More Than Mildly Engaging

By Thom Ernst

Rating: B-

There's a great deal of backpedaling going on in The King's Man. It appears that this most recent addition to the Kingsman chronicles caves to a strong urge to apologize. But the apology it offers seems not to be for the film itself, nor with the two previous films whose spirited tier-breaking violence shunts the movie from the realm of a feel-good actioner.

No, the apology seems precautionary, designed to ward off potential criticism.

This is useful to the enthusiasts with invested interest to see the Kingsman stories continue. They should want nothing less from the franchise than the blistering success of an Indiana Jones or a James Bond. And so, backpedaling is not just essential but strategic.

But apologies makes for a distracting movie experience.

Those familiar with the franchise—or the comic books from which they draw inspiration—are aware that that the Kingsman is a clandestine operative more secretive and beyond the reach of even the most influential government or underground organizations. They are a specific breed of Gentlemen, the kind even James Bond might aspire to were he not so dedicated to his rapscallion ways with the ladies.

But this fellowship of ring-wearing fraternities (sorority too, although a sorority contained within parenthesis) divvies up box office potential by adhering to the standards of a Boys' Own Adventure Story—the kind that once sat on our grandfather's bookshelf.

These are tales of extraordinarily privileged lives played out in an alternate universe hidden behind moveable bookcases; heroes disguised as the affluent untouchables. Some hide behind the masks of unassuming servants invisible when standing behind-closed-door meetings. But they are an operative of British gentlemen (and women?) from a long line of colonial thinkers.

Read our interview with The King’s Man star Harris Dickinson

Not even their name, Kingsman, does much to mask their loyalties to the Commonwealth.

And so, apologies are in order by way of historical backtracking.

The apology then illustrated through 18th-century socialites' woked words is to assure The Kingsman franchise moves forward. But to move forward, The Kingsman must first move back. Back to the origins. And that requires not just a change of time and place but a change of syntax.

And so, The Kingsman is now The King's Man. Not an organization of many, but an organization of one. And the one who starts it all is Orlando Oxford, played by Ralph Fiennes. Fiennes steps into the shoes of the gentleman agent, a position he attempted in 1998 as John Steed in the ill-fated attempt to reprise the non-Marvel Universe version of The Avengers.

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Fiennes gives Oxford the controlled emotional dexterity of an unshaken cocktail; that is, every ounce of piety, grief, remorse, and humour is contained in equal amounts in a single vessel.

To that point, Fiennes is terrific. His performance runs the gambit of variants that convincingly define his character. And yet, it is a role impossible to win him notice. But if an actor is awarded based on skill and sheer dedication to put in one's best performance no matter the film, this would be Fiennes moment.

Oxford is a man of steadfast honour, a pacifist skilled in the art of war, a man whose demons take on part-time virtues. But his most defining quality is a willingness to see beyond his loyalty to the crown and call out the atrocities done by his own countrymen (even himself) committed in the name of his King.

He is a man of wealth and influence, a Bruce Wayne, but with fewer costume changes and a better accent. Yet, he is a man with the pompous deflections of Sir John Steed and the unnatural sword skills of Captain Harry Flashman. But he's a man conflicted by a promise made to his dying wife and his duty to their only son (Harris Dickinson), the logical heir to the Kingsman legacy.

Unfortunately, Fiennes performance is better than the film.

Even so, I am not committed to disliking The King's Man, a feeling that is bound to earn the chagrin of my colleagues. The film engaged me even while languishing through a preamble of historical drama.

The King's Man takes known characters and events perverting truth with fiction. It's an amusing enough exercise even as it can jog free a few lost but freely interpreted high-school history lessons. Even more amusing when featuring the scene-chewing (literally at one point) excess of Rhys Ifans as Rasputin and the oafish villainy of Kaiser Wilhelm played by Tom Hollander who also appears as King George and Tsar Nicholas.

The King's Man puts a great deal of effort into convincing us that the misguided loyalties and the pursuit of oppression and empires have always been an evil the Kingsman opposed. Though not explicitly illustrated, The King's Man distance itself from the likes of Allan Quartermain or a Lt. General Lord Chelmsworth, stopping short of staging a Rudyard Kipling book burning.

The King’s Man. Directed by Matthew Vaughn. Starring Ralph Fiennes, Gemma Arterton, Djimon Hounsou, Charles Dance, Rhys Ifans, Matthew Goode, Tom Hollander and Harris Dickinson. Opens in select theatres December 22.