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I had the day off, my wife was working and someone else was looking after the baby. Perhaps I should have done something constructive, or at least slept, but instead I had a Netflix Adam Sandler marathon. I’d watched most of “That’s My Boy!” yesterday and it is definitely the funniest film ever written about child rape. I realised that I had seen it before at the end, because it’s also got some incest in it for laffs. If you watch enough Adam Sandler films you start to wonder if there is some greater art going on than you previously realised. They are such a confusing mix of politically incorrect humour and attempts at heart and understanding differences (nearly all of them profess some support of the gay community whilst trading in the campest of stereotypes and the macho fear of somehow being sucked into gay sex - yes that was deliberate) that I wonder if it is trying to make some broader point about humanity and the way we judge one another. After all Sandler has suffered his whole life by being the victim (cursed as being seen as a hero) of a sexual predator of a teacher, but totally fails to show any sympathy for the brother and sister also caught up in a love affair that society frowns upon. That can’t just be lazy writing and an attempt to wring laughs out of flimsy buzz words and stereotypes because you can’t be bothered to try and think of anything interesting.
I then half-watched Sandy Wexler, but that didn’t really have the fun of being terrible or the enjoyable aspect of being any good. It was just plain rubbish, with half an eye on reality (but only half an eye) and was thus a disappointment. Dare I try for my third Adam Sandler film in a little over 24 hours. I dared. I watched the Longest Yard - as usual, a movie with a cast list to die for. Not anywhere near up there with Jack and Jill or the Cobbler in awfulness and criminal theft of its audience’s money and not without merit (but with a pointless cameo from Rob Schneider or Pauly Shore - I’m not sure - which, but it was nice of his mate Adam to bung him some cash for maybe 30 minutes “work”).
I am fascinated by Adam Sandler, a man who undoubtedly has talent and even more undoubtedly has more money that one human could spend in 10 life times, but who still chooses to churn out film after film with little artistic merit (or such artistic merit that it only becomes clear once you have watched them all a hundred times and really thought about it). I did a joke about him doing films in which he neglects his family or friends for work or selfishness, only to discover that friends and family are more important after all. And yet he must be neglecting his family (though clearly not his friends) by constantly making films about the importance of family.
I’d quite like to write a film about Adam Sandler neglecting his family to do another terrible Adam Sandler film, only to realise that he should be enjoying his family and all his money. Like a sort of homo-dubious Scrooge, he should get to the end of his life, realising he’s spent so much time chasing money and thus not been able to enjoy anything that the money could have bought him.
But I suspect his 3 films a year only take about 3 weeks of his time, so maybe he’s having a high old time.
