THUNDER FORCE | FILM REVIEW
Dir: Ben Falcone (12, 106 mins)
Melissa McCarthy continues a stream of underwhelming comedies with writer/director husband Ben Falcone. After Tammy, Life Of The Party, The Boss and most recently Superintelligence, Thunder Force’s misfiring superhero hijinks add to the mostly unfunny partnership, only occasionally reminding us of McCarthy’s considerable comedy chops.
She plays Lydia, rough and tumble friend to Octavia Spencer’s brainy Emily from childhood, sticking up for her smart-but-not-a-nerd pal – ultimately, though, their friendship fizzles out during high school, only rekindling when they hit their mid-40s. By then, Emily has become a hotshot scientist with her own company and plans to strike back against the Miscreants: supervillains, created by a mass event, who are riding roughshod over the population of Chicago, where the film is set. In this slightly alt-universe, there are no superheroes to combat them until Spencer, haunted by the death of her parents at the hands of these baddies, creates formulas and devices to turn ordinary people into superpowered individuals.
McCarthy accidentally becomes the recipient of superstrength and has to train to use her powers wisely, whilst eating raw chicken and making jokes about American sitcoms, heavy metal and sports. A criminally underused and blandly written Spencer has the – far less funny or interesting – power of invisibility, and a daughter (Tayler Mosby) as clever as she is. Together, they strike back against the likes of Jason Bateman’s Crab, a thief with crab arms, Pom Klementieff’s psychotic Laser and Bobby Cannavale’s corrupt The King, desperate for political office by corrupt means.
Whilst it’s good to see different shaped superheroines, they have a tired, inert script peppered with bloated improvisation; McCarthy is often very good at this (Bridesmaids) but Thunder Force indulges her, with many added leaden ‘bits’. The film has no tension or believable stakes: plotting is laboured and obvious, action unremarkable, and a bizarre dance routine between Bateman and McCarthy papers over missing characterization. The superhero genre is already packed and this brings nothing new to the party – going through formulaic tropes familiar to any Marvel fan, and crucially failing to find the funny apart from odd moments killing henchmen or comparing a stern but wasted Melissa Leo to Jodie Foster. This, unfortunately, does not bring any sort of thunder.
Out now via Netflix
words KEIRON SELF