I have a well-documented appreciation for bad movies, and this one was getting a 0 on Rotten Tomatoes for a good while when I got to it. I thought my expectations were screwed down low enough, but even I was baffled at the severity of this movie’s suck.
I could tell you how misogynistic Sandler’s portrayal of Jill is. I could tell you how painful it is to watch Al Pacino phone in the ridiculous part they wrote for him. I could tell you about how ugly the treatment of Mexicans is, or how unsettling the wall-to-wall product placement was for me.
The problem is that it wouldn’t matter. The plot, the puzzling misuse of a bunch of generally amusing comics, it’s all beside the point.
The real problem with this movie is its cynicism. We are essentially watching Adam use the pretense of making a movie to get Dunkin’ Donuts and Princess Cruise Lines to pay for his vacation. The movie has no respect for its characters, or for its audience. Among the seven or so people at the matinee showing I attended was a tweenage boy, who never laughed once. No one laughed, but there’s something chilling about a movie so unfunny that a tweenage boy doesn’t laugh. Even at the poop jokes, which everyone knows are like catnip to young men in primary school.
Sandler has done an impressive trick of turning a marginal talent for playing affable dimwits into a film empire. He never loses money, no matter how bad the movies get. Maybe that kind of good fortune can corrode the soul. Maybe he promised a nephew he’d make a whole movie out of a lady impression that made the kid laugh. Maybe he hates himself, and us, and he’s trying to retire.
If I had to point out something positive about this thing, I’d probably have to cite the interviews with real identical twins that bookend the movie, ‘When Harry Met Sally’ style. Watching them talk about their strange and fascinating bonds was modestly entertaining, although it mostly serves to point out the kinds of funny, compelling stories Sandler was choosing not to tell. Miss it with extreme prejudice.
