Argylle is a movie that just wants to have fun—to a fault.
Bryce Dallas Howard plays a thriller author whose stories have predicted real-world events. She’s a total homebody who’s terrified of flying in an airplane, but the uncanny accuracy of her novels puts her in the crosshairs of an evil organization. Adventure ensues when she meets an ultra-competent secret agent (played by Sam Rockwell), who seems like a real-life, rougher-edged version of her thriller protagonist (played by Henry Cavill in her imagination).
Fun idea, and fun is the whole idea. As the plot gets increasingly over the top, the movie basically tells us, “Yes, we know this is silly and doesn’t entirely make sense. We’re just having a good time. Don’t overthink this. No, really, whatever you do, don’t think about this!”
That can be a valid approach once in a while. Most movies should aim at least a little higher, but there’s a place for shamelessly goofy movies. The cast is clearly having a ball in this Matthew Vaughn–directed romantic action/comedy. Among other excellent performers, Bryan Cranston, Catherine O’Hara, and Samuel L. Jackson all chew up the scenery in their own special way.
I’m neither recommending it nor suggesting that you steer clear. You have to be in the mood for precisely this sort of roller coaster, and that will make all the difference between enjoying the ride and hating how shaky the tracks are.
If we accept that it’s aiming only for feel-good fun, two main criticisms remain: It needed to cut about 20 minutes off its runtime, and the relentless parade of twists gets exhausting after a while.
I’ll avoid spoiling the specific twists for this movie (but I will spoil the two shows below). None are especially surprising, and you can eventually start guessing them through process of elimination. (“Hmm, we haven’t had this particular twist yet … ah, there it is.”)
Multiple twists are fine, but the twists need to build on each other, escalating toward one definitive twist—that one big surprising moment that throws the whole movie into a new light, a twist so satisfying that it makes you want to watch the movie again so you can appreciate it anew with this enhanced knowledge.
Without that, we’re left with a feeling of flatness, a movie that seems to keep saying, “Ha! Fooled you, didn’t I?” “Ha! Got you again!” “Ha! You thought it was this, but it was really this other thing!” “Ha! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?”
Excessive twisting can wear thin. It becomes less about the story and more about the cleverness.
One great twist should simply say, “This is what it’s really all about.”
Like in The Good Place, for instance.
The Good Place
I will have to SPOIL the season one finale to talk about this. If you haven’t watched The Good Place, it’s worth checking out. It ran four seasons (50 episodes) and had the good sense to end at the right time.
Kristen Bell plays a horribly self-centered woman who dies and gets into heaven due to a clerical error. Ted Danson plays the “architect” of this particular slice of heaven, here known as …
The world-building of this agnostic afterlife is top-notch. All sorts of fun details pile up, such as the points system that determines where souls end up. Additionally, the Good Place prohibits cursing, so people say things like “fork it” and “bull shirt” (a network-friendly device if there ever was one). And it’s fun to watch Bell’s character navigate a heaven she clearly hasn’t earned. Her secret keeps the tension alive throughout the first season.
But then in the first season finale, we learn another secret, and it changes everything.
Again, SPOILER ahead …
They’re not in the Good Place. They’re in the Bad Place. The architect works for the Bad Place and has devised an innovative means of torturing souls.
That revelation isn’t “Ha! Fooled you!” It’s “This is the point.”
The twist is so effective that if the series had ended there, it would have been a fascinating conclusion to a memorable show.
Instead, the series used this twist to launch the main characters on a quest to get into the real Good Place. It added purpose to the series’ premise and showed us what it’s really about: redemption.
Sugar
At the risk of becoming an “everyone” in the “twist that everyone’s talking about” …
There’s no way to talk about this twist without spoiling it. Even discussing the scope of the twist would give something away. So, this is your SPOILER warning.
Sugar follows the grand tradition of naming a TV show after a noun that has little to do with the plot or theme but happens to be the main character’s last name. House. Monk. Castle. And now Sugar.
Colin Farrell plays private investigator John Sugar, a cinephile who lives in Los Angeles and is currently investigating the disappearance of a famous Hollywood producer’s granddaughter.
For the first five episodes, it was a fairly conventional investigative drama with a touch of noir. But it kept dropping hints that there was more going on.
Sugar is a distinctive man, an odd character but not an overtly quirky one. A health issue of some sort keeps plaguing him, and yet he can drink significant amounts of alcohol without any ill effects. He demonstrates a seemingly preternatural rapport with dogs, and he possesses an inherent goodness that contrasts against the seedy world he inhabits.
The sixth episode raises even more questions about him, especially when he survives a situation that he absolutely should not have survived.
Then, in the final moments, we learn something interesting …
SPOILER!
Really, spoiler.
Sugar is an alien. Six episodes in, this crime drama suddenly veers into science fiction.
It’s a bold choice—so bold that there’s no way everyone will like it. Some people may have watched this detective show specifically to enjoy some down-to-earth fare, and then Colin Farrell turns into a blue alien. To those viewers, it must have been the ultimate jump-the-shark moment.
But others may love it. It will all depend on the final two episodes, of course, but this is one memorable twist, and I absolutely respect the boldness. The revelation was properly set up in earlier episodes, but I never thought they’d actually go there. It simply wasn’t that kind of show. But it is now.
This twist changes everything about the previous five episodes, elevating what was a thoroughly competent but unremarkable series into something special. Better for a thousand people to love your show than for a million to merely like it.
So … Sugar is an alien who, evidently, has learned about humanity by watching movies and decided to become a detective. He’s basically the Martian Manhunter, isn’t he?
As much as I’d love to have been watching a Martian Manhunter series without realizing it, suddenly connecting to a cinematic universe would be too much of a twist.