Like a Boss

Sigh. And here we go. There will be lots of great and memorable and inspiring and funny movies coming in 2020, but first, as always, we have to slog through the misery of disappointing January releases, and “Like a Boss” is in that category. Three brilliant, funny women and a promising premise sink under the weight of frantic antics and an exhausting stream of raunchy references instead of jokes. A great Lizzo song plays over the opening credits and it’s all downhill from there.

Tiffany Haddish (who also produced) plays Mia, who lives and works with her lifetime BFF Mel (Rose Byrne) in blissful partnership. Their M&M make-up company is all about making women feel wonderful about themselves. Instead of the usual only-we-can-fix-you make-up sales pitch about covering up flaws, their you-go-girl vibe is about putting on make-up for fun, for exploring your persona, and for sharing good times with your own BFFs. The outspoken, more volatile Mia is the creative force behind the business, and the quieter, more practical Mel is responsible for the business side, though she has not been able to tell Mia that they are in far rockier financial shape than she thinks.

The M&M employees are Bennett (Billy Porter) and Sydney (Jennifer Coolidge). So far, so good. This is a powerhouse cast of brilliant comic actors who could probably read a recipe for grilled cheese sandwiches and make it funny. But a recipe for grilled cheese sandwiches would be funnier than this mess of s script, which relies much too heavily on insults and sexual references to disguise its absence of actual comedy.

Mia and Mel have a group of besties who sometimes teeter into frenemy territory when our heroines compare themselves to the friends who have graduated into an adulthood, with stable jobs and babies (presumably there are some life partners there, too) that Mia and Mel are not ready to measure themselves against. A baby shower with an extremely graphic cake depicting childbirth is so overwhelming that they have to go upstairs and smoke weed (dropping a joint next to a sleeping infant who may be sleeping due to a contact high, hilarious, amirite?).

M&M is nearly half a million dollars in debt. So when make-up mogul Claire Luna (Salma Hayek) offers to invest, it is an offer they cannot refuse. Mia insists, though, that they maintain 51 percent ownership and thus control. Claire knows, however, that she can get effective control by dividing and conquering, and begins to manipulate Mia and Mel by making them compete for her approval, with each other and with another BFF-led team (Ryan Hanson and Jimmy O. Yang, wasted, and not in the pot-smoking way). “No one stays besties once money comes in,” she says.

There are a few clever quips and bright moments, mostly when Billy Porter is on screen. “Witness. My. Tragic. Moment,” he says with delicious dramatic flourish after Claire forces M&M to fire him. But it is disappointing to see the duo from the ambitious “Beatriz at Dinner,” Hayek and director Miguel Arteta (who also directed the charming “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day”) try to get by with this silly mess.

Parents should know that this film features pervasive extremely crude and raunchy humor with many explicit references to sex, body parts, and body functions and some very graphic images, extremely strong and crude language, drugs and drug humor.

Family discussion: What did Mel and Mia learn about themselves and each other from their involvement with Claire? Which of your friends would you like to be in business with?

If you like this, try: the “Horrible Bosses” movies and “Girls Trip”