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| Melissa McCarthy in Tammy |
The good news is that Tammy is not a crappy remake of the 1957 Tammy movie with Debbie Reynolds that spawned three sequels and a TV comedy series. The bad news is that this one is much worse. It’s a desperate and brainless vehicle for Melissa McCarthy, which she wrote herself, with her husband, Ben Falcone, who also directed, with all the efficiency and verve of an abandoned Volkswagen on the Jersey Turnpike. There isn’t a single shred of evidence that either of them has one iota of talent in the world of filmmaking. Tammy is not just a celebration of everything vulgar and stupid in the dumbing down of American movies. It’s a rambling, pointless and labored attempt to cash in on Ms. McCarthy’s fan base without respect for any audience with a collective IQ of 10. And it’s about as funny as a liver transplant.
With all due respect, I bow to her ability to pander to the lowest instincts of her groupies by making box office obesity profitable. So, fool that I am, I went to Tammy hoping for the best and ready to give Ms. McCarthy every benefit of the doubt. What I got was one hour and 36 minutes of farting, belching, snoring, and the kind of violence a sadist would perpetrate against someone in a wheelchair. One thing you gotta admit: however amiable and attractive she might be in real life, the star makes no attempt to beautify herself onscreen. Nothing she’s ever done before will prepare you for what she looks like here, with swollen feet, tag-sale clothes and hair that resembles a nesting place for field mice.
Working as a shuffling, nose-picking waitress for a greasy junk-food chain called Topper Jack’s and looking like she’s been wolfing down most of the grease all by herself, she gets sacked, wrecks her Toyota when she broadsides a deer, and returns home to find her cheating husband cooking dinner for a new bedmate (the over-employed Toni Collette). Tammy moves out, announces to her mother (Allison Janney) she’s leaving town, and hits the road. Susan Sarandon is hopelessly miscast as the drunken nymphomaniac grandmother with $6,700 in cash and a battered Cadillac who decides to go with her. The preposterous, generation-gap road trip that follows is no Thelma and Louise.
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