“The Longest Yard” (2005)
The only Adam Sandler comedy in which the murder of longtime confederate Chris Rock is played for laughs (or, if not laughs, then extremely uncomfortable plot devices). A remake of the 1974 film of the same name, which also starred Burt Reynolds, “The Longest Yard” is a combination prison movie and wish-fulfillment fantasy that follows a bunch of inmates who play their guards in a game of prison yard football. (Sandler plays the part originated by Reynolds.) Of course, what makes the 2005 movie stand out is just how bland it is — there is a larger cast, many of whom are considerable athletic talents, and a more jazzed up final game, but very little in terms of heart or actual smarts. Sandler’s problematic relationships with race (Rock picks a lock with his afro pick) and sexuality (there is a gang of effeminate prison yard cheerleaders led by Tracy Morgan) are on full display. There are a number of fine supporting performances, though, particularly by William Fichtner as one of the guards and James Cromwell as the morally bankrupt warden (are there any other kinds?) “The Longest Yard” is also somewhat notable for being one of the very best-looking Sandler movies, thanks in large part to Australian cinematographer Dean Semler, who shoots a lot of the movie with natural light and deep, harsh shadows. There are even some editorial flourishes towards the end, including some De Palma-worthy split screen action. It’s not excruciatingly horrible but it’s not something that you’d actively seek out to watch, either. [C]
“50 First Dates” (2004)
Re-teaming Adam Sandler with “The Wedding Singer” love interest Drew Barrymore, Sandler plays a commitment-phobe Sea Life Park veterinarian named Henry (yes, there are Walrus penis jokes) who falls for a chronic amnesiac named Lucy (Barrymore) in scenic Hawaii. Due to a car accident the year before, Lucy wakes up everyday thinking it’s that specific date, forgetting anything that has happened since. After meeting and falling for her, Henry is told of her condition, but won’t let that stop him. Remember, this is supposed to be a romantic comedy, not a stalker thriller. Henry begins by wooing her day-by-day and as his feelings develop and strengthen, so does the relationship change and take form thanks to Lucy’s diaries and his video for her that helps her catch up to what’s happened on a daily basis. Through some ups and downs, including her trying to erase him from her life entirely, the two find a way to make it work. Although out-there in its premise, “50 First Dates” is an endearing movie about two confused people in love. Unfortunately, it’s also burdened with a big dose of Sandler’s questionable and crude humor, making it miss the “The Wedding Singer” mark, even if Sandler and Barrymore cite it as one of their favorites. That said, besides a charming Barrymore, the cast includes Happy Madison regular Rob Schneider as a goofy pothead native Hawaiian, Sean Astin as Barrymore’s roided-up, hilariously short-tempered brother, and Dan Aykroyd as a neurologist. As an excuse for a paid vacation for Sandler and friends, it turned out pretty well, with a few real laughs and heartwarming moments thrown in. [B]
“Anger Management”
With “Anger Management,” Sandler landed one of his biggest costars ever (Jack Nicholson) and wound up with one of his lousiest movies. Sandler plays a character who has anger management issues who, after an incident on an airplane, is assigned to the psychiatric care of Nicholson’s doctor. That’s about all there is plot-wise, which is even more infuriating as the movie crescendos to a plot twist that would make M. Night Shyamalan roll his eyes. Despite a strong supporting cast that includes Marisa Tomei, John C. Reilly (as a monk, no less), January Jones, Krista Allen, Luis Guzman and John Turturro, very little about “Anger Management” is actually likable. The plot, concerning the crazy characters Sandler meets during group therapy, is totally lazy and forgettable, with Nicholson delivering one of his most water-thin performances ever (honest-to-god he seemed more engaged in “Wolf“). The movie’s crumminess might be overshadowed by the fact that it spun off into a highly successful FX television series of the same name (designed as the crown jewel in Charlie Sheen‘s public rehabilitation program), which includes few similarities to its big screen counterpart besides a name and a strong urge on the viewer’s part to run away screaming. [D]
