AGENT CODY BANKS 2: DESTINATION LONDON

Unhappily, this is where the interest of Agent Cody Banks 2 begins and ends. James Bond for the tweens, the Cody Banks series is not a patch on the manic invention of Spy Kids 1 and 2 (before Robert Rodriguez plunged into 3D disaster). Perhaps the routine adventures would be more thrilling if Cody wasn’t such a joyless smart-arse; none of the dangers he confronts ever manage to wipe off his you-can’t-faze-me smirk. 

Frankie Muniz only gets a few opportunities to show off his precocious talents as a slightly inhuman physical comic in the tradition of Mickey Rooney – as when Cody is hypnotised by the villains and finally loses his cool, starting a food fight for no apparent reason. As in the recent What A Girl Wants (this film’s feminine equivalent) Britain is imagined as a never-never land of heritage buildings and tea-slurping aristocrats – though the panache of the English eccentric has certainly faded since the glory days of Margaret Rutherford and Alastair Sim. 

Only the plaintive London accent of junior pop star Hannah Spearitt, as Cody’s tomboy sparring partner, strikes an authentic note. I couldn’t help feeling that the producers might have got a much more interesting and nuanced film if they’d troubled to employ a British screenwriter –particularly given the long history of British children’s entertainment (mainly on TV) which respects its audience enough to go beyond cartoonish hijinks. While Allen himself is Welsh, I couldn’t spot any traces of personality carried over from his unpleasant debut feature Twin Town, a sub-Guy-Ritchie crime caper set in Swansea; but this is probably just as well.