Paul Feig certainly deserves respect for his inflated and witty methods of giving the audience plenty of punch, but so much is attempted that I felt I was hardly watching a movie and something more like an explosive stand up routine. It is undeniably funny and it will be received with great pleasure from a wild flock of summer entertainment enthusiasts. The laughs collect in different measures, occasionally the self-aware slapstick will get in the way of the more developed commentaries in pursuit of social puns, and the popular culture in particular is rewarded with heavy dosage. Fits of laughter spewed out across the auditorium make oneself hard of hearing for the actual rebound, but the wicked gasps in response to such images as kitchen knifes cleanly splicing there way through flesh were sufficient enough to boost my audience predilections.
Susan Cooper is everything that a CIA agent shouldn’t be: I don’t need to spell out the long list of adjectives. Therefore, you quickly sense that the film’s objective will be to turn this around and make her kick some serious butt out in the field, instead of being cooped up behind her staunched desk with Miranda Hart. I say Miranda Hart because she sticks out like a snapping branch in the wind, though unfortunately the only miscast in what is a very attributable supporting cast. Jason Statham is uproarious as the trouper agent Rick who is an unconditional fool to believe in his dexterities, but has the warm heart underneath it all to compensate; the soul of a child even. I must note that Carlos Ponce’s character treats Italians so unfavourably and with such misunderstanding that I found it painful to watch: yes, men can lust woman, but seriously?
Thankfully, there are a few surprises along the way, but this is largely due in part to the revelations not making a whole lot of sense. When you whittle it down, the infiltrated domain of this arms dealer has no reason to exist other than to serve the surface proceedings. There is no explanation or commentary here on the severity of such dealings, but no harm done as the film is well to not be interested in such matters. Just try and imagine a logical way to reach a storyline where you become the guardian to your very own rogue. No spoilers here.
There is obvious reason why espionage outings are often given the thriller bonus rather than comedy: I doubt a member of the international intelligence goes about their jobs making a fool of themselves. Of course, this is thoroughly naïve of me, a comedy can come and go as it pleases, particularly one constructed in a spoof factory. Jonny English was novel and every attempt since has been misguided, for starters, why are these films made? An individual being totally inept at their jobs does not enrich comedy; rather it is in the working of normality where we can find the most enriching moments of hilarity. I cannot help in taking a critical standpoint to these films. Comedy is by nature a particular activity that is found in unique sensibilities (it is the delivery of a comedian that lures us), but films like Spy seek to codify conventions and displace the charm that should be associated with comedy.
To fully suspend any disbelief with this breed of film requires your inner gremlin to go through some form of cathartic release. It means embracing the consistent malfunction of life on the screen and converting it into hollow hedonisms. In other words, aim to let the thought “this is just ridiculous” rest in the back of your mind and bury it there for the duration of a spectacle that successfully completes a full-scale turnaround of glees. The film does have intelligence and it could easily be ten times worse, but can’t anything be so?
Now that the honest niggles are out of the way, I can say that Spy was a good film. 3/5