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Certainly not the streetwise appeal of the movie’s main character, Eggsy (Taron Egerton), a blue-collar kid brought into a posh, private British spy agency, taught tradecraft and manners (by Colin Firth), and sent out to protect the world from evil and shoddy tailoring. When his agency sustains a major hit, Eggsy and colleague Merlin (Mark Strong) link up with their American “equivalents,” initiating a friendly rivalry in which neither group concedes to having an equal.
Bourbon versus single malt, literally and metaphorically.
Sal and his buddies may have had much of the spit and vinegar knocked out of them over the years, but they’re still standing and seeking to find their grooves within the contours of time.
In Last Flag Flying, Richard Linklater – the director of Slacker, the Before trilogy, and the 12-years-in-the-making Boyhood chronicle – resumes his romance with the mysteries of time and maturation.
Keeping with another Linklater career through line, Last Flag Flying is something of a sequel, although one that plays by self-determined rules.
Add the bourbon and the single malt and you have an action-and-image cocktail that sometimes Vaughn seems to be enjoying more than the viewer.
The movie needs an editor, or a bartender, to remind the director when he’s hit the two-hour mark: Last orders, Mr.
The men’s journey in Last Flag Flying begins when Larry “Doc” Shepherd (Carell, once again ably reminding us of his dramatic range) walks into Sal’s decrepit bar in Norfolk, Va.
A Navy veteran, Doc is on his way to Arlington National Cemetery to bury his son, a Marine who has recently died while serving in Iraq, and requests that Sal accompany him to the burial.