I'm still struggling to come to terms with the sequel to surprise
hit Agent Cody Banks.
Agent Cody Banks 2: Destination London is definitely
not one of the better films made this year, to say the least. I
know, I know, this isn't a show for adults, but one for pre-teens;
which is why I'm still racking my brains in an attempt to think
like a child, so that I may afford this show a fairer critique.
Let me give it a try.
Frankie
Muniz of Malcolm
in the Middle fame returns as Banks, the pubescent mini-spy
on the premises of Kamp Woody, which looks like a generic summer
camp. What sets it apart from regular camps we attended as kids
is that the campers mumble code, are decked in camouflaged fatigues,
have camo-paint smeared on their pimply faces, practise underwater
assault with scuba equipment, man hovercrafts and 4-wheel-drives.
Wow. You guessed it; Kamp Woody’s the clandestine training
grounds of the CIA for its covert operations prodigies.
Things go routinely at camp, with the kiddie spies learning the
ropes to the labyrinthine industry of high-stakes espionage while
sneaking about the compound trying to cream each other. When the
camp commander, Diaz (Keith Allen) hatches an insidious plan of
global domination and makes away with a top secret mind control
device, the CIA move in on him. A team of elite troopers storm the
camp but are thwarted by the spy-lings led by Cody who has been
tricked into believing that it was a routine exercise. Highly trained
Special Forces foiled by kids, a likely story.
Cody is held responsible for the escape of Diaz and is put on the
case by the CIA Director (Keith David) to bring Diaz’s evil
plan to a screeching halt. He’s flown off to London to join
a posse of international teen musical geniuses, hosted by Jo Kenworth
(Anna Chancellor), under the guise of a clarinet wunderkind, to
watch for Diaz and his suspected liaison, Lord Kenworth (James Faulkner),
Jo's husband.
In London, Cody meets his bumbling handler, disgraced ex-CIA agent
Derek (Anthony Anderson) and his uber-pimp spy mobile. Fully exploiting
the booming woofers and LCD screen of Derek’s heavily modified
car, they pump R&B through the streets of London. Then, there
is the mandatory outfitting of our mini-spy with the spy-style gear
to get him out of sticky situations. This job falls on the shoulders
of the weird and repulsive Neville (Paul Kaye), a James
Bond-esque “Q” who speaks in spasms and practices
the worst hygiene. Regurgitating his tea when it is too hot, he
is the epitome of infantile barf bag jokes. Director Kevin Allen
really should take comedy lessons, lest his attempts to be funny
reduce the show to a farce.
Cody
is armed with a rather miserable array of gadgets: a watch with
fibre-optic capabilities for peeping, explosive Mentos sweets and
a set of dentures that greatly enhances the wearer’s hearing,
excellent for eavesdropping. The kids would have been bored. To
complete his rather sorry goody bag, he is also given a yo-yo whose
only purpose is to open shut lift doors later in the show. Guess
we’ve seriously misjudged the exceedingly strange Neville
who seems gifted with the ability to foretell the future.
At the Kenworth residence, Cody with his self-playing clarinet,
meets the rest of the celebrated young musicians and they engage
in a food fight during their first meal together. The makers were
desperately trying to make up the minutes it seems. Among the group
of teen whizzes is Emily (Hannah Spearritt), a British flutist who
shares a mutual attraction with Cody. Somehow, Emily looks older
than she is, much older. Oh it might be that, off the silver screen,
she's actually a 23- year-old member of former Brit pop group S
Club 7. Apparently, feelings aren't all that Cody and Emily share.
They happen to be in the same line of work too. Upon this revelation,
Emily suddenly suffers a bout of schizophrenia and is transformed
from sassy teen to sensual older woman. Ummm?
The pair discovers that Lord Kenworth and Diaz have hatched a plot
at the Buckingham Palace, where their orchestra is to perform in
the presence of distinguished guests like the Queen and Tony Blair
look-alikes, intending to mind control the latter into doing their
evil bidding. Cody and Emily divulge their secret identities to
their fellow musical mates and enlist their help to foil Kenworth
and Diaz. As a delaying tactic, Berkhamp, the double bassist from
the Eastern bloc gets to live his rock star dreams with a heavily
remixed rendition of Edwin Starr's "War", much to the
pleasure of the Queen and her distinguished company. They get up
to sing along, shocking.
The movie is often found wanting, reproducing clichés and
low on ideas. The production reeks with jokes of bad taste too.
Though Cody Banks should be a self-doubting, somewhat naïve
and impressionable mini-spy, grappling with growing-up pains and
learning the ropes of espionage, however, he comes across as a pretty
sharp character. Make no mistake, that doesn't mean good acting
on his part, Muniz is still pretty stiff and seems trapped in his
angsty kid archetype of Malcolm.
Attempting to evaluate this film as a pre-teen/teen
would, I just might enjoy the farce, just.
Frankie
Muniz of 
Cody
is armed with a rather miserable array of gadgets: a watch with
fibre-optic capabilities for peeping, explosive Mentos sweets and
a set of dentures that greatly enhances the wearer’s hearing,
excellent for eavesdropping. The kids would have been bored. To
complete his rather sorry goody bag, he is also given a yo-yo whose
only purpose is to open shut lift doors later in the show. Guess
we’ve seriously misjudged the exceedingly strange Neville
who seems gifted with the ability to foretell the future.