On the surface, “The Do-Over,” the second film in Adam Sandler’s four-picture deal with Netflix, looks more agreeable than his last, “The Ridiculous Six.” The running time is a reasonable 108 minutes, opposed to the two-hour comedy mammoth that came out in December. It’s a buddy action comedy, the actor-producer didn’t write it, less Sandler regulars are on-board and the trailers have promised a little more whiz-bang for your subscription buck. But, alas, it’s just as predictably mind-numbing and tedious as any other comedy Sandler has attached his name to post-“Funny People.”
READ MORE: Watch: Red Band Trailer For Netflix’s ‘The Do-Over’ Starring Adam Sandler And David Spade
Sure, the jokes are more consistent, the pacing is a little tighter, and the two/three decades-long camaraderie shared between Sandler and co-star David Spade is palpable and present in every frame. But much like Sandler’s previous Netflix outing, “The Do-Over” is just another frustratingly exasperating run-of-the-mill Happy Madison production, one with all the expected gross-out gags, low-ball insults and other cheap jokes that come along with the testosterone-fueled package.
And while the “SNL” vet has the resources to go beyond this, it’s evident Sandler is comfortable with his tired schtick and doesn’t want to elevate it, or push it much further. It has been apparent for quite some time that Sandler and his crew don’t really care all that much to try something different. But it would be nice to have something — anything — that signified any signs of maturity and depth in his films because, quite frankly, it’s just getting sad as this point, much like our main two lead characters.
Reunited at a high school reunion, childhood friends Charlie McMillian (Spade) and Max “Maxi-Pad” Kessler (Sandler) discover their bond is as close as ever, despite many years apart. They’re still thick-as-thieves, just as they were back-in-the-day, and it’s as if things never changed. But, of course, they have. Well, at least they have for Max. The bad boy who was once believed to never amount to anything more than a local mortician, is now a proud officer of the law — although he isn’t afraid to share a doobie, or talk about some other nefarious activities in his spare time. As for Charlie, though, things are exactly as they were. Literally. He still works for the same bank (except he’s the manager now) located inside the local Save-N-Pay. He lives in the same home. He even drives the same car.
The only real difference, then, is that he lives in that same old house with his new wife, and former high school crush, Nikki (Natasha Legerro) — a trainwreck wine-o of a woman who shares two dickish pre-teen twins, and holds some not-so-secret sexual lust for her former jock boyfriend/ex-husband Ted-O (Sean Astin). And, therefore, Charlie is absolutely miserable. He hates everything about his life. He’s done absolutely nothing with it, and he has nothing to show for it, other than being a passive wimp. So he’s in desperate need of his old friend to bring back the good ‘ole days. And when Maxi-Pad comes bearing an invitation on his swanky new boat, Fish N’ Chicks, he holds no reservations accepting his offer. And what follows is the the time of their lives, as Charlie’s inconsistent narration tell us. All up until they both wind up dead. At least, legally speaking.
As it turns out, Charlie’s buddy Maxi-Pad went to great lengths to fake their deaths, in order for them to start a new life together in Puerto Rico. Max apparently did become a mortician, but he used that opportunity to score some new identities for himself and Charlie, and afford them a second chance. And it turns out they’ve hit the jackpot: over a million dollars was left under their fake names. But as they enjoy the good life together, they soon find their paradise is short-lived when various assassins come their way — including the seven-foot-tall The Gymnast (Torsten Voges). It only gets crazier once it’s revealed that they’re doubling for two of the most wanted criminals in the world, and that Max is a human lethal weapon, able to kill a fleet of men without missing a beat. And things only get more absurd, and more out-of-hand, from there.
Why is it that the plots in an Adam Sandler movie always seem to end up more illogical than the one before it? There are moments in “The Do-Over” that make aliens attacking the world posing as ‘80s video game characters sound more believable. And it’s not like the filmmakers don’t care. It’s evident screenwriters Kevin Barnett (“Hall Pass,” 2007’s “The Heartbreak Kid”) and Chris Pappas (creator of Fox’s short-lived “Unhitched”) go to “Michael Clayton”-level lengths in order for all of this to make as much sense as possible. But it’s a losing battle. None of this is even remotely logical, and that would be forgivable if it was amusing and entertaining. But it’s not.
Sandler and Spade drop no shortage of f-bombs, but it can’t make up for the shoddy character work and loopy plot twists that would make M. Night Shyamalan blush. Paula Patton, Kathryn Hahn, Renee Taylor, Michael Chiklis, Matt Walsh, Luis Guzman and, naturally, Nick Swardson all show up — the latter doing his best Louis C.K. impression, for whatever reason — and each are more discarded, mistreated and wasted than the last. And while Patton’s character, as Spade’s bland love interest, gets a clever plot twist (and perhaps even a progressive one, if this were a better movie), it gets brutally undercut by practically every other female character appearing more objectified than the last. Not to mention the incessant gay jokes, particularly regarding one closeted character, that feel straight out of the ‘90s in the worst ways possible.
While Sandler’s team avoid some of their past transgressions, they always find ways to double down on their worst tendencies in the process. The product placement, for instance, is the most egregious to date, with the film literally stopping for over 30 seconds at times (I counted) to promote Corona Light, Bud Light, Nike, Jenga and even Netflix itself — with one placement playing a major plot point. The lack of MPAA barriers thanks to the streaming site lets the crew go to extremes that don’t ever feel warranted or necessary, and this constant quest for the dirtiest joke possible, leaves a foul taste.
I admire Netflix for its trust in its artists and its open wallet-approach, but “The Do-Over” represents yet another warped nostalgia trip, as Sandler and Spade try to relive their old magic with a little bit of a kick. Unfortunately, it comes across as even more desperate and juvenile than their previous efforts. These “Grown Ups” stars may not necessarily need to grow up, but it’s only a matter of time before they dry up, and there are no do-overs in the world that might help them out of their ruts. [D+]
