Middle-East, 1997. After an explosive operation, one of the Kingsman, a team of gentlemen spies, is killed. As tradition demands, his mentor Harry Hart tells the dead man’s wife and son they can call him once – and only once – if they ever need help. 17 years later, the son has become a delinquent and uses the code to get out of prison. Hart, alias Galahad, suggests he take a series of strenuous tests to become one of a team of new British knights, who are soon mobilized to stop a ruthless billionaire from destroying the planet…

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One scene perfectly sums up the Kingsman: Colin Firth, done up in bespoke with clipped Queen’s English, meets a lisping Samuel L. Jackson, who’s wearing a loud baseball cap and eating fast food off a silver platter in a luxurious mansion. This improbable set-up illustrates Matthew Vaughn’s challenge: how to push a self-mocking James Bond-ish spy flick to the limit while offering the level of violence and action expected from Hollywood movies. Unfortunately, the director of Kick-Ass and X-Men: First Class is not nearly as clever as he thinks and his heavy-handed direction wallows in prefab irreverence. A handful of quips that reference Jack Bauer and Jason Bourne confirm the extent to which this spy flick is exasperating and ridiculous instead of really cool.