Central Intelligence
(2016)
(SPOILERS) Pretty much your average run-of-the-mill, crowd-pleasing
buddy comedy, short on actual inspiration but pumped with star power. The precise plot of Central Intelligence may not have been done before, but if feels
like it has (fat, bullied high school kid becomes super macho spy), and the
gags follow suit. Nevertheless, the Rock and Kevin Hart (who seems in danger of
becoming ubiquitous) have undoubted chemistry, and for the most part the
conceit of Dwayne Johnson playing a very uncool teenager in a very cool man’s
body goes a sufficient distance to make this not too aggravating, if never
remotely in danger of becoming clever.
It’s more difficult to believe Hart’s Calvin Joyner was ever
his school’s star athlete, since he only ever gives off class clown (the
ever-present de-aging tech doesn’t sell it either – seriously, it seems you
can’t watch a Hollywood movie at the moment without tripping over waxy younger versions
of star faces). Johnson’s Bob Stone being goofily genuine and guileless one
moment and suave and can-do the next doesn’t really play either, to be honest,
except that the Rock’s charisma makes it travel.
There’s a lot here that doesn’t play, though, from Johnson’s
high school fat suit, to pretending a rope is his Johnson, to his “celebratory”
birthday suit appearance at the class reunion (exposing yourself in public is
acceptable and even estimable if you’re the Rock, apparently). Still, the
banter between Bob and Calvin has a likeable back and forth of cool/dork,
switching places depending on the setting/activity. Bob wears unicorn t-shirts
and loves John Hughes movies (“Then I
realised high school was nothing like 16 Candles. And I’ll never be Molly Ringwald”) and exhibits disarming sincerity
in response to the inevitable gang-of-thugs-in-a-bar scene (“That’s a lot of homophobia coming out of a
very angry man. You need to get that looked at by a trained professional”).
The flipside of Calvin’s life having come to nothing very
much (“If 18-year-old me could see me
now, he’d think I was a total loser”), despite having married his high
school sweetheart, seems to be remedied by joining the intelligence services and
having a kid (if in doubt about what’s missing in your life, have a kid).
This is a less satisfying spy comedy than Spy, despite a very game Amy Ryan as
Bob’s superior, hunting him down because she thinks he’s criminal the Black
Badger, who is selling top secret satellite codes. Aaron Paul, as Bob’s
believed-dead partner (of course, as soon as we see Paul in a flashback, we
know he’s going to show up alive), proves yet again that he was so good as Jesse
Pinkman because that’s how he plays every part (he even calls someone “Bitch” here). Jason Bateman appears as
the older version of the guy who horribly bullied Bob, but the character is
guilty of overkill. It would have been funnier if Trevor really had been a
born-again Christian, rather than a chronically unrepentant bad guy begging to
get punched. Bateman does improvise some funny lines though (“You’re still shorter than my cat” he
tells Calvin).
I’m not sure Kevin Hart is destined to ever appear in a
really great movie. He’s one of those comedians whose watchword are “That’ll do”.
As such, Johnson walks off with the best moments (“How dare you!” he responds, when Bateman exclaims “Fuck Patrick Swayze!”) and scenes
(posing as the marriage therapist of Calvin and Maggie – Danielle Nicolet –
much to Calvin’s indignation; “This is
not real” Calvin tells Maggie. “It is
to me” she replies) There’s the occasional remark about CIA surveilling
everything (Facebook, “Just pick up any
phone in your house, They’re all bugged” invites Ryan with regard to
Calvin’s job offer) and the suggestion that, implicitly, none of this is
anything to worry about (the CIA are heroes, and the Calvin is welcomed by them
with open arms, making his life all that much better). Central Intelligence also features a cameo from Melissa McCarthy,
and made almost as much money globally as her vastly more expensive Ghostbusters. Together they suggest that,
while the traditional star comedy isn’t dead, it has hit a bit of a rough patch.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
Comments
Post a Comment