REVIEW - KICK-ASS 2

The danger, when writing a sequel, is that you rely too heavily on the work done by your predecessor. Unless a sequel is demanded by the first film's narrative, it ought to serve as a stand-alone feature, so simply picking up where Kick-Ass left off should never have been an option. If your origin story is, say, the Bible, you've probably got some leeway there, but Kick-Ass 2's origin was a mildly successful film based on a cult comic book. And throwing in a few cumbersome references to Kick-Ass' plot doesn't cut it. So installment 2 won't work if you haven't seen installment 1. And what? It won't work if you have either! As misjudged as it often was, Matthew Vaughn's film was also quite brilliant. This feels like a conscious attempt to drive every nail available into this non-franchise's coffin. It has the scope of a soap opera. It has supporting characters so vague and perfunctory the film would only be improved without them. It has routine action sequences, supposedly valid because of their fantastical violent content (to which we've now been desensitised). It has crude comedy, most of which has the stale vibe of leftovers from the first movie's deleted scenes. It has numerous scenes of dull, pithy philosophical pontification, like some lame kids' cartoon. It develops its lead characters not a single discernible modicum of a jot. It has a cacophonous soundtrack, with a battering score thundering away beneath entirely inappropriate parts. It has the most egregious scene of product placement that I've witnessed in any film. And, worst of all, it relies so heavily on the work done by its predecessor. Even when new figures are introduced, writer / director Jeff Wadlow seems to expect us to find them funny and engaging on the mere virtue of existing. It's no wonder Jim Carrey refused to promote this film - his (negligible) comic talents are squandered on an insignificant, endlessly perplexing role. Wadlow's writing misses the mark, and his directing leaves moments to wither and die before he slumps onward, to the point that you can sense the actors awaiting a call of "Cut!" as the awkward silence begins to shut down their brains.

A reminder of better times: