by Peter Callaghan

Given the tragedies of the past week – the Orlando shootings and the murder of Jo Cox, whose death was made even more poignant by last night’s election of Rosena Allin-Khan who would have been Labour’s 100th, but is now their 99th, female MP – I was in need of a chortle. Unfortunately, the Melissa McCarthy vehicle The Boss, which she co-produced and co-wrote with her husband Ben Falcone who picks up the directorial reins for the first time since his debut Tammy, doesn’t cut the Coleman’s. A star vehicle with a lame script and a dearth of giggles is still a vehicle – a car crash!

Having been raised in the Blessed Sisters of Mercy children’s home for orphans, five-year old Michelle Darnell is returned by her adopted parents on the grounds that she “doesn’t fit”. The same thing happens five years later, prompting a furrowed brow and a flood of tears. But an anguished plea of “What’s the matter with me?” turns to an angry protest of “Fuck you!” when she is returned for a third time. “Don’t worry about me,” she tells a hand-wringing nun. “Families are for suckers! I’m going straight to the top!” Which she does by becoming the CEO of a highly successful business, a best-selling author and the 47th wealthiest women in America. Proving the old adage “she who laughs last, laughs longest”. (Unlike me, who barely laughs at all.)

However, Michelle’s dynasty crumbles to dust when she is given a five month jail sentence for insider trading. And the remainder of the two hours traffic of our sound stage involves our pugilistic protagonist working with a troupe of teenage girls to empower them, develop their sense of self and more importantly enable them to earn enough money to pay their way through college by setting up a multi-million dollar business selling chocolate brownies which are baked by her former personal assistant Claire Rawlings (Kristen Bell) and her daughter Rachel (Ella Anderson). “When the houses are nice, we double the price!” she hollers as the noughts rack up like coconuts at a funfair. The only obstacles in her way being her expansive ego and diminutive ex-lover Renault (Peter Dinklage) who threatens to put her out of business for leaving him for “hundreds of men”.

The premise is good and offers plenty of scope for action and comedy, but the execution is poor. Particularly the writing, which McCarthy shares with her husband Ben Falcone and fellow Groundlings improviser Steve Mallory. Apart from a handful of scenes and one-liners including a humorous description of “girl on girl stuff” as “something you’re going to dabble with in college … Unless you’re Hannah. I think that’s going to fit you like a glove.” there is very little in the way of laugh-out-loud wordplay, put-downs or slapstick. The only other saving graces are Kristen Bell and Ella Anderson whose performances are everything McCarthy’s isn’t: subtle, authentic, moving and quietly funny. And the fact that the cast is predominantly female. Other than that, The Boss deserves her jotters. Or as Alan Sugar would say: “You’re fired!”

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Peter Callaghan
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