How entertaining?     ★★★★☆
Thought provoking? ★★☆☆☆

1 June 2015

This a movie review of SPY.

By Hemanth Kissoon

“I did once get upgraded to premium economy, it was pretty plush,” Susan Cooper (Melissa McCarthy)
 
A well-written action-comedy with a lady in the lead, her sidekick a woman, her boss a female and the main adversary a mademoiselle, you might be questioning if we’ve entered a parallel universe of gender parity? Director Paul Feig continues his run of female-skewing laugh riots after BRIDESMAIDS and THE HEAT. In no way are dudes alienated. (Why should they be?) His ace of course is lead Melissa McCarthy, who combines a winning mix of: Timing, forthrightness and humiliation absorption. Here, she adds badassery to the list, emerging from the cocoon of mousy desk-jockey to hurt locker deliverer. Normally a perennial scene-stealer, someone else earns that title in SPY, Rose Byrne’s nemesis.

Opening on a PULP FICTION-esque gag, C.I.A. top-dog Bradley Fine (Jude Law) accidentally sneezes mid-interrogation of the nefarious possessor of a nuclear bomb, and shoots the target, Tihomir Boyanov (Raad Rawi), in the forehead. Blood mist lingers in the air. Not only is it a funny moment, there is a refreshing level of violence in a genre normally sanitised for mass appeal. Bradley is ably assisted by Susan (McCarthy), as she utilises hacked security cameras and drones to guide the field agent through a bevy of henchmen. Her skills and sensitivity are quickly established. Director Feig is clearly enjoying himself, flexing a different muscle: Combat carnage.
 
Nuclear missile on the black market, due to be purchased by a terrorist, Fine goes to the one person likely to know of the device’s whereabouts, Tihomir’s daughter Raina (Byrne). Bradley seemingly killed (blatantly not for anyone who watches movies – though the signpost eventually turns out not to be annoying), it is revealed all field agents are compromised. Identities now in the possession of Raina, department head Elaine Crocker (Allison Janney) has no choice but to send Susan out on reconnaissance; much to the chagrin of himbo attack-dog colleague, Rick Ford (Jason Statham) – at one point believing that a “FACE/OFF machine” exists, but is being kept from his use. The Stathe surprisingly holds his own against the coterie of comedians, also flexing a new muscle. Ford is an intense human being with bravado dialled to 11, “I’ve jumped from a high-rise building, using only a raincoat as a parachute, and broke both legs upon landing. And I still had to pretend I was in a f*cking Cirque du Soleil show!”

Ford’s hilarious monologues and put-downs are actually topped by brutal truth-teller Raina, who, constantly pissed-off, doesn’t hesitate to vocalise her displeasure, “What a stupid f*cking ret*rded toast, you’re delightful.”
 
Only the climax lets the side down, being silly rather than spectacular; in this respect SPY needed the panache of TRUE LIES.
 
SPY is not a spoof (à la AUSTIN POWERS; OSS 117: CAIRO, NEST OF SPIES; etc.), it is a MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE movie peopled by douches, the dorky and the incompetent. Patrick, the quartermaster, hides Susan’s espionage Bond-like gadgets in fungal foot spray, stool softener tablets and haemorrhoid wipes. Her aliases are not of the cool variety; they include the likes of single mother of four, and spinster owner of 10 cats, “I’m just missing a shirt that says I’ve never felt the touch of a man.” The tone of embarrassment and theme of confident self-determination work seamlessly.

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