With Spy, writer-director Paul Feig has proven that Melissa McCarthy is a star.
Though she stole enough scenes in the director's Bridesmaids to net an Oscar nomination, and co-led his buddy cop entertainer The Heat with Sandra Bullock, the fast-rising funny-lady had yet to independently topline the kind of studio comedy through which she's established her reputation. McCarthy went broad against Bullock's straight act in Heat, and for that matter was situated similarly (though with worse material) opposite Jason Bateman in Identity Thief -- but how would McCarthy fare if there was no yin to her yang?
McCarthy has a hell of a lot more range than her most memorable film roles might indicate -- she's skilled in a variety of comedic areas, to say nothing of her often-concealed dramatic capabilities. But leading a film, especially a broadly comic one, doesn't merely come down to talent, or even presence. Kristen Wiig was emphatically funny as Bridesmaids' protagonist, but her achievement in the film extended far beyond her own comedic contributions. She set the tone, established a balance and, most importantly, was comfortable not always being the funniest person in the room.
Like Bridesmaids, Spy is neither slapstick nor satire. Feig consistently injects his films with heart and warmth, and as such, the task on his leads is always slightly more complex. To be compelled and convinced by these characters is to feel and relate to them; in other words, the goal isn't simply to "be funny," as has often been the case for McCarthy. By taking on the role of CIA Agent Susan Cooper, the actress agreed to enter uncharted territory. The moment she sets foot in it, her levels of comfort and generosity radiate.
Cooper is introduced as a certified agent who, nonetheless, is restricted to sitting behind a desk. Feig's opening evokes the Bond-esque films being playfully teetered around throughout Spy, with a dapper Jude Law (as Agent Bradley Fine) tiptoeing, piece in hand, around an unspecified site of an exotic location. Cooper works as his eyes and ears: heat sensors allow her to warn him when trouble is afoot, and her macro-view of the situation allows her to always be one step ahead. She gets him out of a hairy situation, fending off such distractions as bats and mice and grating co-workers which bluntly characterize the hopelessness of her office space.
Since the crux of Spy centers on Cooper going into the field, the elongated first act progresses as an unfortunate necessity. Or maybe it's just too long. The humor is disarmingly spare here, with Feig moving around his many pieces to set up the ensuing action. Essentially, Cooper is infatuated with the oblivious Fine, a fact that informs her eventual determination to prove herself as a true agent. His repeated ignorance of her advances precedes Cooper watching from her desk in horror, as Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne), the deliciously nasty daughter of a nuclear arms dealer, abruptly shoots him dead. In possession of a potentially-devastating bomb with a plan to sell it, Rayna is the CIA's central target. And with Fine apparently dead and several agents exposed, it's Cooper's perfect opportunity: not only can she avenge Fine's death, but she can compensate for his (and everyone's) underestimating of her in the process.
Spy is more literal than Feig's films are typically, and qualitatively that works both ways. His dialogue ranges on expository far too frequently, and his drawing of Cooper's earnestness -- "I'm doing this for Fine!" -- doesn't always convince. But his talk isn't always so cheap. The film is very upfront about its central conceit -- the underestimating of someone who looks and sounds like Cooper -- without being overbearing. Feig is admirably direct in such communications, but he never turns preachy or condescending. In fact, once Cooper gets going, her general badassery as an agent is matter-of-fact. Her intelligence and physicality come to work hand in hand, and (thankfully) there's never a moment when another character looks on in astonishment. A big reason this works as well as it does is McCarthy; from moment one, she seems keenly aware of her character's talents for espionage, and she never allows Cooper's talent for beating up bad guys to in any way surprise. It's who she is.
Rolling along with a twisty narrative that's reflective of the blockbuster spy-thriller, Spy lacks resolute complexity (and in certain instances, sense) in narrative -- its casually subversive zing attached like an addendum, the overarching goal here is to entertain and humor. But even if antithetical to the film's exact purpose, there's something invigorating about the placement of an unconventional (re: studio films) hero in such an established, familiar and comfortable aesthetic. For a good while, there are some tonal issues, with effectiveness of the humor somewhat inconsistent. But the perspective is always fresh and, thus, involving. Moreover, McCarthy is such an appealing actress that she can cut through thick blocs of flat dialogue with naturalistic ease, and can spin an uninspired joke into something with a little bite.
Still, Feig's script and direction never completely cohere. At a certain point, his reliance on twists to keep things interesting requires a mental blockage beyond even the fact that you're watching a studio-funded parody. There's also an earnestness to the film's entirety that, while admirably noble and likely intended, weigh down the quality of the humor. The joke is almost never on Cooper, which works to and against the film's benefit -- it's a great change of pace for a McCarthy character, and is absolutely respectful, but there's an absence of zest at Spy's center that would go a long way to help it.
Then again, there's plenty of it around that center. Rose Byrne opens the floodgates when Cooper unexpectedly, and in disguise, meets up with Rayna by the end of the film's first third. The movie evolves into some twisted buddy comedy, where the deluded, comic villainy of "bird-armed' Rayna provides a physical and comedic contrast to Susan's heroic warmth. The two trade barbs marvelously, their insults at one another as creatively-realized as they are expertly-delivered. As the film closes into focus on those two, Spy develops a texture and perspective beyond the obvious. It's a crucial change of pace. Byrne is an absolute riot, chewing on insults with aplomb and orchestrating her walk and poses with exacting comedic precision. To say she takes the movie from McCarthy, as McCarthy did from Wiig in Bridesmaids, would be a fair analogy. But she and McCarthy bring out the best in each other. They carefully perform their delicate dance while driving toward the laughs with newfound gusto. It's thrilling (and a damn good time) to watch.
In more minor roles, several actors (more surprisingly) get time to shine as well. McCarthy is a deeply funny actress, but I couldn't help but find myself most impressed when she was reorienting the spotlight to Byrne or another supporting star. She allows the movie to flow by recognizing what's working. Example one: whenever Jason Statham is on-screen as the hilariously incompetent Rick Ford, she gives him room to play. Yes, British action superstar Statham is funny, and more to the point, he's brilliantly self-effacing. Feig gives the actor densely absurd monologues to have his way with, describing with increasing oddity the "experiences" he's had as a high-stakes spy, and Statham simply crushes them. In a quieter role, Call the Midwife's Miranda Hart provides an intoxicatingly sweet brand of humor as office-mate Nancy. Eventually, she gets into the field and, again, she shines in two-handers with McCarthy. In fact, regardless of who's sharing the screen with Spy's leading lady, these comedic duels always represent the film at its best.
With locations ranging from Paris to Rome, Feig shows off his film's more-substantial budget and fits in some impressive action sequences as well. This is not a James Bond film, nor is it one boasting a budget over $100 million. But Spy's stakes, however peripheral, are kept legitimate by a convincing visual style. It also helps that McCarthy's action moves are utterly kick-ass. As the best of action-comedy stars tend to do, she's able to consistently mine off-the-wall laughs without compromising her character's ability or intelligence.
There's a lot to like in Spy, especially among its cast, even as there's always a sense of what could be. The film is never completely on-point, save moments centered on the rivalry between Cooper and Rayna. You feel its post-production slash in the editing room, with some character arcs getting the short shrift before an excessively-gooey climax that demands our emotional investment in them. There's solid commentary here about female friendship and underestimation, and I appreciate Feig's ability to integrate them into his film without being obvious or pointed. But Spy remains deeply flawed, a far cry away from Bridesmaids, the film that made Feig's name as a movie director and McCarthy's as a movie star.
At the very least, in Spy Melissa McCarthy proves herself as a star. And a big reason why is her allowing the supporting cast to steal the movie out from under her. This is her movie, with ideas and plot points and humor targets orbiting around her from beginning to end. But by sharing the spotlight and working as a generous screen partner, she allows the movie's strengths to seep through. In the end, she commands a better movie than Spy likely had any right to be.
Grade: B