If you can’t get Oprah, who can handle comedy, you don’t do the bit. And yes, that’s your first warning sign this film is a fiasco in the making. She’s got Gayle King profiling her on TV. Her seminars are rock concerts (dancing, rapping), her (profanely-titled) books are best-sellers. In “The Boss,” they almost never land at all.ĭolled-up in bedazzled versions of wealth-guru Orman’s infamous power Mumus, McCarthy is Michelle Darnell, a role-model to female corporate America. Scene after scene has McCarthy, as a high-powered corporate titan and inspirational speaker (Think Suze Orman on steroids, the filmmakers certainly want you to.), try out flailing bits of slapstick, or stop and just jabber through every riff she can think of in a given situation.Īnd as the movie dawdles forward, she riffs into a deafening silence. And it happens to Melissa McCarthy in the catastrophic comic miscalculation titled “The Boss.” It’s happening to Kevin Hart, and sooner than he would have expected. Eventually, some desperate director, working from a deathly-dull script, pleads into that comic’s ear, “Just get in front of the camera and DO something, SAY something, ANYTHING funny.”Īnd a whole movie, often an entire career, crashes down around his or her ears when the comic fires blanks. It happens to every big screen comic sooner or later.
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