In her book Bossypants, Tina Fey told a now-famous story about an early-2000s incident in the SNL writer’s room when the then-new Amy Poehler was trying out a vulgar bit and Jimmy Fallon said, “Stop that! It’s not cute, I don’t like it!” Poehler turned to him — “black in the eyes for a second” — and said, “I don’t fucking care if you like it.” Fey describes the moment as a “cosmic shift … she wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends … She was there to do what she wanted to do.”

[Melissa] McCarthy is part of that cosmic shift, and what’s jolting about the skepticism with which she’s met is that, relatively speaking, she’s asking for so little. She doesn’t appear to want the Charlize Theron deal. She wants the Louis C.K. deal — a degree of control as long as she can deliver at the right price. Isn’t that the kind of practical-minded creative autonomy we should celebrate?

And if people don’t like the work she’s doing, perhaps the question shouldn’t be “Should she get a new agent?” or “Doesn’t she understand that she’s testing our patience?” but rather, given her track record and talent, “Why isn’t the industry lining up to work with her, direct her, write better stuff for her, and see if it can make her even more of a success?” Don’t they like money? Or is proving that Melissa McCarthy isn’t a movie star more important to maintaining the status quo than benefiting from the fact that she is?

Vulture on Hollywood’s problem with Melissa McCarthy.

McCarthy is one of the people who made me start to trust comedy again, after the Dark Ages proliferation of South Park/Family Guy style rubbish.