Critics and audiences are holding up Apple Studios’ Argylle as a cautionary tale — and rightly so. The $200 million boondoggle is an amalgamation of the institutional failures and digital contagion plaguing Hollywood and nearly every sector — from politics to corporate America.
Dubbed a “winking action” movie for its overt nods to internet culture, Argylle centers on Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard), a spy novelist whose stories mimic real incidents, drawing the attention of the Division, a nefarious spy agency led by Director Ritter (Bryan Cranston).
Most of the movie’s highlights occur in its opening sequences, which unfold in Conway’s literary imagination. An alluring dance set, prominently featured in the film’s omnipresent promotions, featuring spies Agent Argylle (Henry Cavill, sporting a flat-top reminiscent of Street Fighter’s Guile) and La Grange (played by the stunning Dua Lipa), quickly escalates into a high-octane Mediterranean chase.
From there, we’re transported to Conway’s idyllic Colorado retreat, where she’s finishing a manuscript. Following a book-signing event in what seems like a glaringly artificial digital rendering of Telluride, Conway embarks on a train ride to her parents’ home. There, the introverted author and her cat are targeted by deadly operatives, only to be rescued by spy Aidan Wylde (Sam Rockwell). Unfortunately, what follows is a series of dizzying plot twists, each more nonsensical than the last.
What makes Argylle’s failure particularly puzzling is that it boasts an intriguing premise and a capable cast and crew. Its systemic deficiencies suggest the movie is another example of studio overreach. Against the backdrop of a bizarrely convoluted promotional campaign, nearly all of the film’s shortcomings — ranging from its excessive CGI and shoehorned soundtrack selections to plot contrivances and manufactured aesthetic — result from consigning artistic integrity to take the backseat to the myopic marketing interests of a Very Online studio.
Apple’s marketing fingerprints are apparent throughout the movie, nearly always undermining the story. Perhaps the most egregious example is its inclusion of the Beatles’ “Now and Then” as the film’s signature needle-drop. This is especially jarring since the A.I.-engineered track only debuted last November. Thus it couldn’t possibly be the protagonists’ long-standing anthem or hold much sentimental value (curiously, they never mention it by name) — despite its value to Apple’s music label.
Another example of studio publicity detracting from the theatrical experience occurs during a critical scene in which Conway and Aidan envelop a lethal goon squad in pink and yellow smoke. Though dazzling on TikTok and in trailers, the sequence fails in theaters for a simple reason: The vibrant plume obscures the action. Similarly, a subsequent made-for-memes scene featuring Conway skating on black oil is more likely to draw eye rolls than delight from audiences.
Studio marketing diktat also compromised fundamental design and lighting decisions. “Colliding worlds” narratives typically excel by juxtaposing stylized fictional universes against gritty reality, a prime example being Last Action Hero. Yet Argylle is coated with the sheen of a Hallmark production that looks great on promotional stills but strips the story of necessary texture.
Apple left no stone unturned. Not even Conway’s cat (adorable on Instagram, Snapchat-filter-like on screen) escaped its claws. Naturally, the Division’s junior staff couldn’t settle for the mundane PCs typical of federal offices. No, they needed impractically sleek desktops resembling Cupertino’s own products. It’s a small detail, but one that demonstrates the degree to which cinematic realism and viewers’ immersion were sacrificed at the altar of brand integration.
iMarketing’s repeated sabotaging of Argylle is a shame, considering director Matthew Vaughn’s respectable repertoire and audiences’ tempered expectations. After all, what is there to add to the campy spy subgenre after Octopussy?
Argylle didn’t have to be this bad. Nor would it have been if algorithms hadn’t overshadowed artistry.
