Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Chloe Grace Moretz, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Jim Carrey
Dir. Jeff Wadlow
Unlike Man of Steel, the bad guy in Kick Ass 2 has uncompromisingly bad traits. When the suggestion is made to him to kill Jim Carrey’s dog he responds by saying “I’m not that evil,” but really he is. With a name like The Motherf***er, how can he not be?
Anyone who saw Kick Ass will know that the writers are not afraid to play around with industrial langauge. The black humour in the first film was as black as it could get, and with a memorable character like Hit-Girl and an unusual premise, Kick Ass became a phenomenon. Inevitably it’s success became the sequel’s biggest enemy.
Kick Ass 2 isn’t a bad film. If the first one hadn’t been made we wouldn’t be able to compare the sequel to its superior genesis, but it was made so we do compare them. Now there are more vigilantes, organised by Carrey’s Colonel Stars and Stripes, The Motherf***er has rebooted himself since he first appeared as Red Mist, and Hit-Girl is under strict orders from her boring guardian to be normal.
The whole thing stirred together is foul mouthed, visceral mayhem which has the unusual ability to appeal to a braindead demographic who wouldn’t spot the irony if it stepped up and kicked their teeth in, and a very sentient demographic who would spot the irony and begin discussions like this pseudo-intellectual codswallop I’m writing now.
But there’s only so much effing and blinding you can use in a film before it starts to sound repetitive and you long for some of the spark and originality that made the first Kick Ass such an enormous flash in the pan. Much has been written about Carrey’s reluctance to promote the film because of the violence, but then he should have read the script before accepting the role, no use crying over spilt milk (or in this case spilt milk that was pre-boiled and poured over someone’s bald head.)
Hopefully, there’ll be no more Kick Asses. The makers will have learned their lessons and leave on a high. Leave us with Hit-Girl’s now notorious expletive and the sick stick. Leave us with the question what if . . . . (someone ordinary really did become a costumed vigilante superhero), and not how far . . . . (can we stretch the money making potential of this idea.) Chances are you’ll end up in ten years time with Hit-Girl being a metaphor for the Virgin Mary and Kick Ass being a mop headed Jesus fighting armed eco-warriors.