Melissa McCarthy is funny. Committed to wringing every last laugh out of her scripts, she’ll do anything to get a giggle and I think that’s what makes her latest film, “The Boss,” kind of an uncomfortable watch. You can tell she’s working on overdrive trying to mine jokes out of as script that is unwilling to give them up. Few bosses have ever worked this hard for this little return.
She plays Michelle Darnell, a mix and match of Leona Helmsley and Martha Stewart. A child of neglect, she’s now the ruthless ideal of the virtues of greed whose brash attitude and potty mouth have made her a “cash champion” and the 47th wealthiest woman in America. When her ex-lover and nemesis Renault (Peter Dinklage) leaks information to the SEC a conviction for insider trading brings down her empire. After a jail sentence she’s freed, homeless and without a dime to her name.
Her former assistant Claire (Kristen Bell) grudgingly gives Michelle a place to stay, allowing her to move into the small walk-up apartment she shares with her preteen daughter Rachel (Ella Anderson). With the new living arrangement comes a new business opportunity in the form of Claire’s delicious home baked brownies. “This is my way back,” she says. “You’re looking at Darnell 2.0.”
A mix of vulgarity, slapstick and sentimentality, “The Boss” starts slow and despite a funny-ish midsection never fully recovers. McCarthy pulls out all the stops, leading the violent charge in a turf war between Darnell’s Darlings and a Girl Guides troop called the Dandelions and never misses a pratfall, but the material just isn’t there.
Her trademark is making unlikeable characters likable. We’ve seen her do it in everything from “Tammy” to “Identity Thief” and beyond, but she’s met her match with Michelle Darnell. She’s so terrible she was returned to an orphanage by three sets of adoptive parents. Later in life she’s told at a country club, “no one at this table likes you,” and it’s not hard to see why. The warmth of her previous characters is AWOL and no amount of late movie sentimentality will change that.
Coming off a career high with the very funny “Spy” makes “The Boss” an even bigger disappointment. A capable and agreeable cast surrounds her—but I wish they had given Bell something more interesting to do—and certainly the idea of unchecked avarice is ripe with comedic possibilities but it never gels. When the best you can say about it is that it’s better than “Tammy,” the last film she made with director (and husband) Ben Falcone, it’s time to admit that “The Boss” is not always right.
Director Paul Feig calls her “one of the funniest people in the world.” Her husband, actor Ben Falcone, says she “will do anything to get a laugh” but her tendency to go for the easy gag often put me in the mind of Will Ferrell in his Blades of Glory nadir.
Thanks to a string of hits like Bridesmaids, Identity Thief, The Heat and Tammy and an $809,163,263 box office total, McCarthy is a rarity in Hollywood, a female comedy superstar. Everyone agrees she is a skilled comic actor who amplifies the funny in good movies and elevates the jokes in lesser scripts but the latter is why I used to find her exasperating. Much of her recent work—this weekend’s very funny Spy notwithstanding—has relied on her major personality to magnify minor material.
There’s no arguing with the kind of financial success she has enjoyed but critical accolades have been elusive. The Wall Street Journal, for instance, said of Tammy, “The movie’s principal intention is to make you laugh at a loser, and revel in scenes from which polite people would instinctively turn away.”
Bridesmaids was her flashpoint, the film that broke her out of the TV sidekick treadmill. As Megan—imagine a feral, female Guy Fieri—she stole the show out from under other, better known stars like Kristen Wiig and earned an Oscar nomination. It’s a wonderful, weird performance that hinted at great things to come but aside from a few inspired moments she has not made good on the promise of Bridesmaids. Her work has come to rely too heavily on a stock character, the obnoxious loser with a heart of gold buried beneath a thick shell of one-liners and non sequiturs.
“I’ve played a lot of characters who are very vocal, very aggressive,” she told me in 2014. “For the women I’ve played there is a reason why they are so ballsy and it is nice when you see the crack in the veneer and you realize, ‘It’s part of their insecurity. They stay loud so nobody yells at them.’”
It’s an interesting character breakdown but one that played itself out by the end of 2013’s Identity Thief when I believe she became infected with Will Ferrell disease.
There was a time when Will Ferrell could do no wrong. At least that’s what the directors of Blades of Glory, Land of the Lost and Semi-Pro thought. Popular with audiences, he was allowed to run riot in a series of so-so films resulting in the bleak middle period of his career where manic energy replaced humor in his films.
McCarthy suffers from the same affliction. She is funny, she knows how to deliver a line, but in Identity Thief, The Heat and Tammy she’s off the chain, Ferrelling her way through underwritten scripts.
Ferrell turned things around and so has McCarthy. In St. Vincent she took a step away from her well-established comedic persona to deliver laughs and show her dramatic range.
Her latest film, Spy is also welcome return to form. Paired once again with director Feig, the movie offers up the best of both worlds, a funny, smart script and a director who knows how to maximize her talents. As Susan Cooper, a CIA computer-analyst-turned-international-field-agent-on-a-mission-of-revenge, she’s likeable, funny and most importantly, reigned in.
The new movie “Spy” has all the stuff you expect from a secret agent flick. There’s exotic locations, shoot-outs, beautiful women, handsome tuxedoed men and plenty of action. That Melissa McCarthy has better action scenes than co-star Jason Statham is just one clue that it’s also a comedy. The next clue is the constant stream of laughs coming from the ensemble cast.
McCarthy is Susan Cooper, a CIA computer analyst who guides the field agents through their missions. She’s in love with Bradley Fine (Jude Law), a James Bond type—think Daniel Craig without the menace—who rhetorically asks, “Who’s the finest of them all?” after taking down his enemies. As accomplished as Susan is behind-the-scenes, Fine and her boss Agent Crocker (Allison Janney) treat her like a lap dog. When Fine disappears during a dangerous mission Crocker decides they need an unknown agent to complete his assignment and locate a Bulgarian arms dealer named Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne). Cooper, thirsty to avenge Fine’s death volunteers and despite the protests of senior agent Richard Ford (Jason Statham), is sent to Paris to track Boyanov and stop Sergio De Luca (Bobby Cannavale) from selling a nuke to a terrorist organization.
In “Spy” McCarthy leaves behind the aggressive but damaged comedic persona of “Identity Thief,” “The Heat” and “Tammy” and is likeable, funny and most importantly, reigned in. “Spy” is funny, but feels so much more disciplined than any of McCarthy’s last handful of films. Director Paul Feig knows when to let McCarthy off the leash—there are some wild slapstick scenes here but he also knows when to pull her back and let the script do the work. She’s appeared in a string of weakly written comedies that required her to pull out all the stops to wring a laugh or two from poor scripts. Here she has the best of both worlds—a funny, smart script and a director who knows how to maximize her talent.
The supporting cast who knows when to work and when to get out of the way ably assists. It’s fun to see Statham have fun with his tough guy persona—“This arm was ripped off,” he says indicating his right arm, “and reattached with this one,” raising his left.—and Byrne’s mastery of one liners gives McCarthy a run for her money in the laughs department.
McCarthy Ferrelled it in several films, replacing humor with manic energy, but she’s in top form in “Spy,” generating genuine laughs and excitement for the upcoming “Ghostbusters” sequel she’s planning with Feig.
What kind of goodwill does Bill Murray bring to “St. Vincent”? In the opening scene of the dramatic comedy from director Theodore Melfi, he tells the world’s worst joke—punchline, “That’s not a porch, it’s a BMW”—and still gets a giggle out of the audience.
Murray plays Vincent, a Sheep’s Head, New York guy whose life is in as bad a shape as his jokes. He’s usually drunk or trying to get drunk. His house is second mortgaged to the hilt, his bank account in overdraft and his only friends are a Himalayan cat and the pregnant working girl he pays for company. His new neighbors, single mom Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) and ten year old Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) are a nuisance to him, until he discovers he can make a few extra bucks babysitting the boy. “Is that our new neighbor,” says Oliver when he first spies Vincent. “It’s going to be a long life.” The pair, however, form a bond. Vinnie passes along valuable life experience, like how to fight, bet on horses and order a drink in a bar, but when Oliver’s dad sues for co-custody it turns out Vinnie’s life lessons may have been ill advised.
There is a scene early on in “St. Vincent” showing Vinnie, head awash in booze, dancing, blissed out to “White Rabbit” on the jukebox in the back room of a seedy bar. It’s a great Murray-esque character study. With just a few drunken gyrations we figure out that Vincent does as he pleases. He always danced like no one was watching.
That’s the essence of the character, and those moments elevate “St. Vincent” from wacky-old-man movie to interesting character study. Murray is always watchable, interesting and reaching for the unexpected even in a movie as by-the-book as this. The story hits all the inspirational notes you’d expect from a movie about building an unconventional family and occasionally falters on the side of sentimentality but overrides the syrupy tone of the old man genre with a series of stand put performances.
Noami Watts is almost unrecognizable as Daka, a plainspoken, pregnant hooker with an impenetrable accent and, if not exactly a heart of gold, an affection for things made of gold. It’s a rare comedic role for her and she nails it, physically and emotionally.
As Maggie McCarthy takes a refreshing step away from her well established comedic persona to deliver a supporting role that has laughs but shows more of her range than we’re used to.
The film’s secret weapon, however, is the pairing of Jaeden Lieberher and Murray. Like Mutt and Jeff–although it’s not clear who is Mutt and who is Jeff, who is the child and who is the adult–they are a matched and balanced pair, with chemistry to burn. Their scenes together are the heart of the film and when they are separated the movie loses some of its appeal.
“St. Vincent” is more predictable than you might want from a Bill Murray movie. He usually makes left-of-centre choices, or at least puts a spin on the regular. The latter is true here, but Murray’s blissed-out dancing reverie and bad jokes are still worth the price of admission.
“Canada AM” Web Exclusive: Richard’s interview with “St. Vincent” star Chris O’Dowd.
A synopsis: Bill Murray plays Vincent, a Sheep’s Head, New York guy whose life is in as bad a shape as his jokes. He’s usually drunk or trying to get drunk. His house is second mortgaged to the hilt, his bank account in overdraft and his only friends are a Himalayan cat and the pregnant working girl he pays for company. His new neighbors, single mom Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) and ten year old Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) are a nuisance to him, until he discovers he can make a few extra bucks babysitting the boy. “Is that our new neighbor,” says Oliver when he first spies Vincent. “It’s going to be a long life.” The pair, however, form a bond. Vinnie passes along valuable life experience, like how to fight, bet on horses and order a drink in a bar, but when Oliver’s dad sues for co-custody it turns out Vinnie’s life lessons may have been ill advised.
Richard’s “Canada AM” interview with “ST. Vincent” star Melissa McCarthy!
“[Bill Murray] is an icon. It’s less about him being one of the funniest human beings, and more about that he’s such a good actor. I thought this role was right in his wheelhouse because I knew he wasn’t going to overplay it. Then to see him do it so subtly and so underplayed, makes you love that character so much. It was a master class for me.”
Melissa McCarthy admits she was nervous to work opposite Bill Murray in St. Vincent.
“Is that not true for every human being?” she asks rhetorically, before adding she was intimidated, “in every possible way.
“He’s an icon. It’s less about him being one of the funniest human beings, and more about that he’s such a good actor. I thought this role was right in his wheelhouse because I knew he wasn’t going to overplay it. Then to see him do it so subtly and so underplayed, makes you love that character so much. It was a master class for me.”
The Bridesmaids star plays Maggie, a recent divorcee and mother of 10-year-old Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher). Her nursing job requires long hours and without daycare she is forced to leave the boy with her neighbour, the hard-drinking reprobate Vincent (Murray).
“I liked that she was stripped down,” she says. “There are no more tricks. She’s out of tricks. She’s just trying to survive.”
As Maggie, McCarthy takes a step away from her well established comedic persona to deliver a supporting role that has laughs but shows more of her range than we’re used to.
“I’ve played a lot of characters who are very vocal, very aggressive. It’s been what the character has called for, but even within those bombastic parts you still have to let that character touch down. Even in a bigger, straight comedy you always have that moment where something’s got to break. You see why they’re so loud. At least for the women I’ve played there is a reason why they are so ballsy and it is nice when you see the crack in the veneer and you realize, ‘It’s part of their insecurity. They stay loud so nobody yells at them.’ I think the same applies to this one, except that the character wasn’t putting on much of a facade. She was falling apart more openly and she had to buckle down and keep moving forward.”
St. Vincent is a character piece that showcases the actors — like co-star Naomi Watts as a plainspoken, pregnant hooker with an impenetrable accent and, if not exactly a heart of gold, an affection for things made of gold — but makes the point that families can be formed anywhere by anyone, even if one is a prostitute, one drinks too much and one spends too much time at work.
“It’s a lovely message that (director) Ted (Melfi) handled so beautifully, because it doesn’t feel sentimental,” says McCarthy. “It’s not like, ‘And now the message is …’ You just get the feeling in the pit of your stomach that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
The last time Susan Sarandon went on a cinematic road trip she was teamed with Geena Davis in a film that reinvented the buddy picture and earned praise from critics who called it a “neo-feminist road movie.”
This time out the Sarandon shares the front seat with Melissa McCarthy. Where “Thelma & Louise” learned about loyalty and sisterhood, Tammy and Pearl only pick up tips about drinking and driving, how to rob restaurants and how to destroy a jet ski.
Tammy (McCarthy) is down on her luck. She hit a deer with her car—“Oh man,” she says, “not another one.”—got fired from Topper Jack’s, and discovered her husband (Nat Faxon) is having an affair with the neighbor (Toni Collette). And it’s not even dinnertime.
Like so many before her, Tammy decides to hit the road to clear her head. Trouble is, she doesn’t have a car or any money. Luckily Grandma Pearl (Sarandon) has both and is keen on taking a trip. “You’re not getting the car unless I go,” she says. “At this point you’re the best chance I have to get out of this house.”
The pair head off for Niagara Falls (going the wrong way naturally), stopping along the way just long enough to cause trouble as Pearl picks up a man in a bar (Gary Cole) before hiding out with Pearl’s cousin Lenore (Kathy Bates) and her girlfriend Suzanne (Sandra Oh). After a blow out with grandma at Lenore’s July fourth party Tammy finally has a close, hard look at her life.
Road movies are episodic by nature. Their stories move from place to place, from character to character, all bound by a theme. Unfortunately “Tammy” simply moves slowly from scene to scene, content to rely on McCarthy’s comedic appeal at the sacrifice of anything more than pratfalls and awkward humor.
In other words “Tammy” earns a laugh or two when McCarthy falls down, less so when she is standing upright, which is most of the movie.
McCarthy is a charming performer, but it’s beginning to feel like she doesn’t do anything than play the obnoxious loser with a heart of gold buried beneath a thick shell of one liners and non sequiturs. What worked so well in “Bridesmaids” now feels been-there-done-that.
She isn’t aided by the supporting cast, because despite the cumulative comedy cred of actors like Allison Janney, Dan Aykroyd and Toni Collette are all saddled with thankless roles that give them very little to do. Kathy Bates is more of a live wire, but shame on director Ben Falcone (who is also McCarthy’s husband and the film’s co-writer) for not giving her costar Sandra Oh more to do. She is essentially set dressing, a flesh prop with a nice wardrobe.
By the end of the credits “Tammy” doesn’t feel like a comedy—although there are several giggles sprinkled throughout—as much as it does a waste of talent. Sarandon isn’t a gifted comedian but McCarthy is, but neither is working to their strengths.
At least that’s what the directors of “Blades of Glory,” “Land of the Lost” and “Semi-Pro” thought. Popular with audiences, he was allowed to run riot in a series of so-so films resulting in the bleak middle period of his career where manic energy replaced humor in his films.
“The Heat” suffers from the same affliction. Melissa McCarthy is funny. She knows how to deliver a line, and was one of the most memorable characters in “Bridesmaids” but between “Identity Thief” and this new film with Sandra Bullock, she is off the chain, Ferrelling her way through these comedies, but not bringing enough of the funny along with her.
“The Heat” is an odd couple, buddy cop movie set in Boston. Sarah Ashburn (Oscar winner Bullock) is an uptight, lone wolf FBI agent who has closed more cases than anyone else at the Bureau. Her colleagues don’t respect her, however, thinking that she’s arrogant and competitive.
When she is assigned to a case in Boston she bumps heads with Shannon Mullins (McCarthy), a tough-talking street cop who spends as much time berating her co-workers as she does arresting bad guys.
They form an unlikely alliance, teaming up to bring down a murderous drug dealer.
This kind of dynamic is as old as the movies, so you’d hope for the performances to breath some new life into the film’s withered lungs. Instead we get the same old from two good performers.
“Bridesmaids,” also directed by Paul Feig, worked because no matter how outrageous the situation the characters were based in some kind of reality. They may have been exaggerated in a Commedia dell’Arte kind of way, but at their core each character felt somewhat grounded and the humor in the film arose from the situations and audience’s relationship with the people on screen.
In an effort to create real characters “The Heat” adds in some family dynamics and backstory, but even then, it feels more like a plot device than an authentic attempt to deepen the onscreen dynamic.
“The Heat” has two capable stars with good chemistry—McCarthy is crass and likeable; Bullock is charming and likeable—but their broad characterizations of Ashburn and Mullins never achieve any kind of bond. Instead they push for laughs that often don’t appear.
There are laughs—less funny are some hacky jabs at the expense of an albino character— but with this pedigree there should be more. McCarthy is responsible for many of the chuckles, but the gag to giggle ratio is 5 to 1. McCarthy doesn’t do anything here we haven’t seen her do before, and her foul-mouthed, female Zach Galifianakis schtick is getting old. She has more to offer than this, and before she turns into “Land of the Lost” Ferrell I hope she tries something new.
“The Heat” is a mild summer diversion, a formulaic movie that once seen will be instantly forgotten.
