I SPY a star reborn
Film skewers macho culture as McCarthy avoids the typecasting rut
Melissa McCarthy’s wicked take on the 007 persona in Paul Feig’s subversive Spy is a joy to watch — and also something of a relief.
She commands the screen in a role both comic and dramatic, a welcome change from the single-note tedium of most of her assignments since her Oscarnominated breakout with Bridesmaids.
Just a year ago, with the dismal Tammy reeking of typecasting, it seemed McCarthy had slammed into a brick wall with her down-market disturber shtick. Could there be no better use of her considerable talent than endless variations of loud and obnoxious?
Partial answer came last fall with St. Vincent, as McCarthy cagily played straight woman to Bill Murray’s title loon.
Spy confirms that her star still rises, and deservedly so. Reuniting with her Bridesmaids and The Heat director Feig, who also wrote the screenplay, McCarthy gives free rein to every aspect of her personality.
The film is similarly versatile: one part parody, one part thriller, one part lethal satire of movie sexism.
McCarthy is Susan Cooper, a brainy but timid CIA analyst who troubleshoots for brash field agent Bradley Fine, played by a game Jude Law with a knowing wink from the James Bond playbook.
The desk-chained and devoted Cooper watches via hidden satellite cams and whispers danger alerts to Fine via an earpiece, content to let him take all the glory.
Her close friend Nancy (the delightfully deadpan Miranda Hart), drones away nearby on equally important but unsung tasks in their dingy basement office infested with mice and bats.
A mission to wrest an atomic bomb from a Bulgarian arms dealer’s twitchy palms goes disastrously awry, exposing the CIA’s top agents. The only thing left to do, much to the chagrin of the agency’s brass (Allison Janney radiates authority) and benched spies (Jason Statham amusingly plays the most resentful one) is to send in the unknown and untested Cooper.
This would ordinarily be as far the script goes, with McCarthy doing her familiar wisecracks and pratfalls in a story that dissolves into noisy farce. That side of her is certainly in the film — the trailer emphasizes it — but there’s more to her character this time than confrontations and cuss words.
Turns out she’s Cooper — Susan Cooper. But to prove it, she’s going to have to take on not only ruthless terrorist Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne), a femme fatale in every sense of the word, but also the sexist culture of the CIA.
Witness the scene where she gets her spy gadgets: where Bond would acquire sleek cars and cool toys, Cooper gets sensible wheels and weapons disguised as embarrassing medical aids. She’s better than this, even if her snickering male colleagues aren’t.
Spy’s skewering of macho culture, in which McCarthy is ably assisted by Hart, Byrne and Janney, is the stealth weapon and most satisfying aspect of a film that lacks for only a ruthless editor. Some gags go on too long, such as Peter Serafinowicz’s bizarre turn as a lecherous Italian agent named Aldo.
The movie also works surprisingly well as a thriller, right down to the 007-style theme music, opening credits and credible global threat.
The laddish antics of Austin Powers, Johnny English and the original Casino Royale seem downright juvenile by comparison.