Kingsman: The Golden Circle doubles down on the crass humour that the first thought was subversive, all the while indulging in the worst traits of Bond films and predecessor The Secret Service alike - only this time, it's boring.

It's another goofily imaginative movie for teenagers made by middle-aged comic book fans. What's lacking this time is the sparky relationship between Firth's avuncular gent and Egerton's scrappy yoof.

The only redemption is seeing Elton John as Poppy's piano-bashing, singing, F-word-dropping hostage, but even he becomes tiresome before too long. If there's a Kingsman 3, I'll defect to Statesmen. At least they have whisky.

The film suffers from a nasty case of sequelitis, whereby the follow-up has the same basic plot of its predecessor and makes the mistake of assuming the outcome of more action is a better film. It's not.