Argylle (2024 | USA | 140 minutes | Matthew Vaughn)

Part of the routine when attending preview screenings as a press member requires us to give a brief opinion after the movie to one of the PR representatives. The answer I gave after Argylle was “dumb but harmless.” A couple of days later, I still can’t think of anything better. This is one hot mess of a movie.

Bryce Dallas Howard stars as Elly Conway, a frumpy cat lady who writes best-selling spy novels, but things go awry fast when it turns out that her fiction is a lot more realistic than anyone realizes and the manuscript for her next novel unlocks some secrets that malevolent forces covet. Next thing she knows, she’s on a train trying to run from bad actors (possibly literally) who want to kidnap and/or kill her, and only a fellow traveler that looks like a cross between Jeff Spicoli and Jeff Lebowski (Sam Rockwell) can keep her (and her cat Alfie) safe. Throughout the movie, we see Rockwell’s character interchangeably replaced with the fictitious Agent Argylle (Henry Cavill), as though Elly is blending fact with fiction.

Bizarrely, Argylle’s haircut makes that weird CGI monstrosity on Superman’s face in the “Whedon Cut” somehow only the second strangest thing done to Henry Cavill’s head in a movie.

That sets of chain reaction of events that makes little sense and disappoints at every turn. What if I told you that Elly’s frumpy, cat lady persona belies something more exciting.  Nah, you’d never believe me. Or you’d see it coming a mile away.

The movie is also about 40 minutes too long and wastes an expensive cast. Dua Lipa looks like what David Letterman might call “a million damn dollars” and she’s barely in it. Catherine O’Hara is a genuinely funny actor, and she generates exactly zero laughs here. Bryan Cranston gives the performance of someone who is only here because he lost a bet, or his fantasy football team came in last place. Samuel L. Jackson seems to be the only one who appears to be enjoying themselves.

This wouldn’t be a problem if the movie wasn’t in love with its own cleverness. The trailer and poster promise Argylle is from the “twisted mind of Matthew Vaughn” is the funniest part of the experience because there’s nothing inventive going on here. Every movie cliché is leaned on like a crutch. Moreover, my favorite comedy is about staging a Broadway musical called “Springtime for Hitler” and I’ve seen close to every second of film John Waters has put into this world, so my bar for what constitutes a “twisted mind” is pretty high. I kept waiting for something “zany” or unexpected or whatever, but it was a wait in vain. Godot would’ve shown up sooner.

Argylle isn’t without virtue. Bryce Dallas Howard is a welcome presence who gets some good laughs in, and, as noted, Samuel L. Jackson does appear to be having a blast, even if he does spend some time watching basketball while waiting on his e-mail.

Argylle isn’t unwatchable or anything. It’s fine and, yes, harmless. There isn’t any real edge or anything surprising, and it desperately wants to spoof many better movies and believes it’s funnier than it actually is. (I call that the Dane Cook Fallacy.) Certainly nothing befitting a creator with a “twisted mind.” I couldn’t recommend anyone pay money for this filim in a cineplex and sleep soundly; even in February there are far better options. Just wait for it to come to streaming. It shouldn’t be long.

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Argylle is in theaters now.