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Michelle Darnell (Melissa McCarthy) is more than a Martha Stewart-clone waiting for comeuppance, she’s a hip hop brand mogul whose life is center stage of a television awards show where she’s the only nominee in every category. So her fall from grace should be craptastic, but somehow the awkward landing and the phoenix-like rise from the ashes lacks the epic scale you might expect. “The Boss,” co-written and directed by McCarthy’s husband Ben Falcone, is deliriously crass and crude, reveling in outrageous diva-esque flourishes that McCarthy owns without losing our sympathy. She is every bit the star Darnell is in the movie’s world, but the movie feels small in comparison. It is a sketch that is stretched past the breaking point and the only thing holding it altogether is McCarthy, with able assistance from an ever-reliable Kristen Bell and a thoroughly weird Peter Dinklage who deserves more opportunities to let his freak flag fly. He might, one day, prove to be a “Boss” like McCarthy, but right now, she’s “The Boss.”