As my first Netflix choice, I think it’s fitting that it also be the first full review of a movie that I have written.

From the promotional trailers, Johnny English looks to be another doof-in-position-of-undeserved-power movie, a remake of The Tuxedo or The Man Who Knew Too Little. Like the latter, however, the movie’s lead brings to the otherwise predictable premise enough comedic punch to forgive the film’s shortcomings.

Rowan Atkinson, who to major American audiences may seem a poor choice for a lead, is Johnny English, a patriotic everyman working a desk for British Intelligence. In direct contact with the MI7’s top agent, English dreams of doing good for his country in a montage where a Mr. Bean-prejudiced audience gets to see Atkinson flex his acting muscle as the ultra-suave agent. To those familiar with BBC’s Black Adder series this comes as no surprise; to an audience who may know him only as the crazed villain in Scooby Doo, Atkinson gives no nod or apology, playing smooth for smooth’s sake.

This is where Johnny English succeeds. It is simultaneously aware of its farcical script and its action subtext. All the actors, Atkinson in particular, understand that even comedic characters should have some amount of depth. Although Johnny English gets himself into the traditional “gads of hilarious hard spots,” he does it not because he is an imbecile, but because he is a human being out of his element. An antithesis to the typical pitfalls of the genre, this character is well-informed, trained, and sometimes manages to succeed with purpose rather than falling into every frame with a shrug and a dopey expression on his face.

The characters surrounding English are similarly well-played.

John Malkovich plays the vengeful, vainglorious Pascal Sauvage as a true, calculating villain. The thick adopted French accent does not act as a running gag throughout the movie, where so many lesser actors might focus. Instead, the interaction between him and the interloping Atkinson maintain a comcial sort of dignity. Again, Malkovich does not allow his character to become a bumbler, even when defeated. There is no comic turning point where Sauvage becomes a wailing crybaby, pounding his fists against the floor.

Also of note is Bough, English’s subordinate and partner. Played by Ben Miller, Bough is a constant source of support for English, a Sancho Panza to English’s Don Quixote. Whether Bough is aware of English’s posturing and cover-ups, Bough remains loyal throughout, creating another convincingly funny relationship in the movie.

To round out the standard spy film cast is the female double agent, played by Natalie Imbruglia. Imbuglia brings a grace and presence to the character that is hypnotic to the eye. Although her character is sadly archetypal and forgettable, Imbruglia does an admirable job keeping her interesting and human.

That said, the script is humorous enough to keep the actors interested, and rehashes classic comedy elements satisfactorily. One or two Farrelly-esque groaners almost destroy the movie, but thankfully they are short and salvaged by the terrific cast.

Though Johnny English is far from a cinematic masterpiece, it is a laughable farce with a wry intelligence and a great sense of character. Having been penned by the writing duo of Neal Purvis and Robert Wade (the team behind the two latest Bond screenplays and the woefully overlooked Plunkett and Macleane), Johnny English may in fact be the truest farce of the modern spy movie.