Moviegoers with delicate sensibilities or those prone to becoming morally indignant over fictitious violence (I’m looking at you, Ebert) should steer clear of Kick-Ass, comics and film alike. The rest of worldwide audiences have a new kind of superhero flick to enjoy – one that builds itself upon the fundamentals of infamous comic books (Spider-man, Batman, Superman, etc.) while cleverly satirizing their content. The result is an uproarious adventure that, despite its uniquely drawn characters and punchy dialogue, falls short of redefining the genre. Kick-Ass undoubtedly sits among the better of superhero film efforts, but it is, in essence, merely another movie adaptation of a comic book series.

Kick-Ass features your typical high-school nobody – Dave Lizewski – who spends his days and nights reading comics and chronically masturbating, until this routine becomes too much of a bore, and Dave decides to suit up and go vigilante. During one of Kick-Ass’s initial shake downs, he almost bites the dust at the hands of a thuggish group, although he soon finds himself sitting in and around their blood and disembodied limbs, thanks to Hit-Girl. Cue Big Daddy, who alongside Hit-Girl creates a father daughter duo who aid Kick-Ass in his ass kicking escapades while simultaneously pursuing their own ulterior goal of stopping crime boss Frank D’Amico. Once he gets wind of their plot, D’Amico’s son decides to take action, posing as another superhero “Red Mist” in order to get close to Kick-Ass and thereby gain information about the illusive Big Daddy and his deadly 11-year-old Hit-Girl.

That’s basically the movie in single paragraph summation, minus the combat scenes and plot twists. Kick-Ass had rock solid performances from all of its cast, even (or dare I say, especially) Nick Cage – an actor whose existence I can barely stand to acknowledge. Cage’s Big Daddy and Chris Mintz-Plasse’s Red Mist are the two characters most drastically altered from their original comic book forms. Both present themselves as considerably dorkier than their hand-colored counterparts, and in Cage’s case, this works favorably. Red Mist, on the other hand, seems to be toeing the line between being his father’s son and Kick-Ass’s faithful sidekick, a plot-line absent from the comics and which was eventually forgotten altogether in the film.

The real grievance I have with Matthew Vaughn’s adaptation of Mark Millar’s darkly heroic series is the injection of emotionality where it doesn’t belong. For example, Hit-Girl didn’t pout like a wimp and temporarily blame Kick-Ass for her father’s demise, and Kick-Ass himself? He totally doesn’t get the girl. These unfortunate changes will go unnoticed to those who have no preexposure to the comics, but even without a comparably better story to relate to, the whole side plot wherein Kick-Ass confesses his true identity and wins the girl’s heart seems woefully out of place.

Kick-Ass falls in line behind Watchmen, Batman Begins, and The Dark Knight as another successful transition from colorful pages to silver screen, but even quality performances coating witty banter and balls-to-the-wall action sequences isn’t enough to rectify the haphazard storyline and weak plot devices. I realize that a movie deserves a more climactic ending than the comics offered, but a jet pack? I would’ve settled for more hand to hand combat, especially considering both Hit-Girl and D’Amico have actual training. Director Matthew Vaughn faced a challenge in molding Mark Millar’s story for the theater, and in many ways he was hugely successful, sometimes lifting dialogue right out of the books, and others capturing characters in exact poses and frames as Millar’s pages housed. If only he had orchestrated a smarter climax, or really anything other than the ludicrous long shot of D’Amico being blown to bits by a bazooka that somehow failed to initially blast a hole through his torso.

Nonetheless fun than its hype purported, Kick-Ass manages to live up to its title, even though the masses have convened and agree that Hit-Girl stole the show. I’d watch a feature film if it focused solely on her character; she was as dynamite an actress as she was a pint-sized combatant. Kick-Ass features all the blood and gore you’d expect, mostly at the hands of the aforementioned miniature of might, and further distances Chris Mintz-Plasse from the clutches of McLovin’. The pop-culture references, witty exchanges of words, and ordinary heroes of Millar’s creation seamlessly transition to the big screen. Other elements, like Kick-Ass being an ugly geek, Red Mist being a hard ass, and Big Daddy’s reason for turning his daughter into a killing machine were either lost or drastically altered, leaving a movie that’s ultimately a treat worth savoring only a select few bites, but damn do those bites make the whole experience worthwhile.