The Moya View

“Life of the Party” She Ain’t

There are two questions I ask whenever I see Melissa McCarthy top billed in a movie. Did she write it and did her husband, Ben Falcone direct it? If both are a yes, then I discount the whole movie as a vanity project. McCarthy and Falcone’s last two collaborations, Tammy and The Boss were her worst films.

Their third, Life of the Party, gives them a strikeout.

McCarthy is a mom who decides to battle her recent divorce and current midlife crisis by attending the same college that her daughter goes to.

This setup is good for thirty minutes of McCarthy doing stale Animal House hijinks, getting away with atrocious fashion faux pas and just plain groaners on how sexually liberated she feels now. The other hour is occupied by awkward mother-daughter bonding and un-bounding and rebounding again.

A little bit cleaner it could be one of those disposable Lifetime family comedies. As it is, Life of the Party, is a barely adequate Adam Sandler Netflix knockoff.





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