Imagine your worst day. Now multiply that by ten. That, my friends, is the life of Tammy, a loud, abrupt, in-your-face woman who takes off on a road adventure with her alcoholic grandmother in the Ben Falcone-directed Tammy.
The film has its moments, playing to star McCarthy's strengths as it allows her to use her impeccable comedic timing and over-the-top antics to stir up interest and laughs. And McCarthy delivers -- but only for about forty percent of the film. The rest is a colossal nightmare, filled to the brim with unneeded commentary that ultimately reminds us that the film's leading star has more of an effect as a supporting player.
The film starts out innocently enough as we watch Tammy, driving to work while jamming out to her boom box, embark on the worst day of her life, one that will ultimately leave her without a car, a job or a husband. But what plays out more like a series of Saturday Night Live digital shorts ultimately falters as Tammy hits the road with her alcoholic grandmother (played by Susan Sarandon). Their endeavors, from grabbing a drink at a small bar, holding up a fast food chicken shop and attending a "˜lesbian' Forth of July party, lack any level of cohesive storytelling, ultimately making it hard for viewers to understand just why they are supposed to care about this comedic Thelma and Louise.
After the initial opening scene (which showcases the chemistry between McCarthy and husband/director/co-writer Ben Falcone) things become disjoined and chaotic fast as the film appears driven by nothing more than a list of "˜situations.' Occasional name references help us piece it all together, but aside from two men they meet in a small bar, the continuity of the film's central story is anything but clear.
And it is a shame, as the film boasts an impressive list of co-stars, including the likes of Mark Duplass, Allison Janney, Gary Cole, Toni Collette, Sandra Oh, Nat Faxon, Kathy Bates and Dan Aykroyd. The collection of talent is nothing short of remarkable, especially for such a brainless comedy. But with the film relying so much on McCarthy and her extremely specific style of comedy, none of them were utilized to their full ability. Instead, many go unnoticed, forced to play to the star's hand in what could have otherwise been a downright sick ensemble.
But alas, we are left with a half-witted attempt at a summer blockbuster that starts fast out of the gate, only to falter during much of the first turn and on. McCarthy has done much better before, and for those of us who were hoping for a repeat of last summer's The Heat, you will find yourself extremely disappointed. Tammy was a fluffer piece for its leading lady; unfortunately, it didn't come together to really matter much.
