But her movie neither negotiates nor takes many laughs. "First rule of business: Pretend to negotiate, and then take what you want," Darnell says. Claire is raising a daughter on her own (lovable child actor Ella Anderson), and the three women get to share the spotlight without having to talk about men or shopping. The government seizes Darnell's assets after the serpent-tongued hyper-capitalist is arrested for insider trading, forcing her to rebuild from scratch with the extraordinarily patient generosity of Claire (Kristen Bell), the assistant she long spurned. The premise, like that of last year's Get Hard, is a white-collar spoof. But McCarthy has made her clunkers, too, like any respectable box-office draw, and The Boss has a distinct clunking sound. Her ability to be coarse and R-rated is already making waves in the industry, influencing the heroines of smaller films like The Bronze to get just as nasty.
McCarthy is playing the "47th-richest woman in the world," but she must by this point be Hollywood's number-one source of foot-in-mouth disease, having time and time again demonstrated to male executives that people will watch female-fronted comedies. The turtleneck gag is admirably silly but so slight it never really builds to anything, which is just the movie in a nutshell.
This holds true even once she's taken the plunge from top executive of several unspecified companies to sleeping on a former subordinate's couch.
The fiery comedian, playing a CEO named Michelle Darnell who puts elements of Donald Trump's mouth under Suze Orman's hairdo, has made turtlenecks a permanent part of her wardrobe. This is the film's best joke, because instead of being beaten into the ground, it goes completely unremarked upon. You never see Melissa McCarthy's neck in The Boss. Melissa McCarthy plays Michelle Darnell, an industry titan trying to rebrand her image after a jail sentence, in The Boss.
0 kommentar(er)
