No. I won’t do it. You can’t make me. And yes, I would rather be a petulant child than praise a man-child.
That’s the end of the column this week. Bye-bye. See ya later. Sayonara.
. . .
You’re really gonna make me do this, aren’t you? You cruel monster.
Will you at least let me air my grievances a bit before I defend? Ha, as if you have any choice.
Mr. Sandler began his professional acting career as the most distractingly terrible cast member in SNL history. His buffoonery was even worse than Andy Samberg’s brainless grin or Jimmy Fallon’s. . . well, all of Jimmy Fallon. The only notable segment in his SNL repertoire was a song about Hanukkah, a trite ditty that asks the eternal question, “How long can we stand this crap?”
The correct answer is “make him stop right now.” Apparently, 90’s America wasn’t too bright. Surprise, surprise.
Since those early days, Sandler has garnered his own production company, and starred in many can-barely-be-called films. The supposed “good” days of Happy Gilmore and Billy Madison are far behind us, replaced by a cross-dressing putz rebelling against hygiene and decency. This may sound like internet hyperbole, but there is a reason he recently won all the Razzies.
Honestly, did we really need to see Al Pacino tickling the hairy armpits of tranny-Sandler? Oh lord, I just wrote that sentence.
Step away, Justin. . . breathe, regain composure.
After all, that was just Jack and Jill. Everyone hated Jack and Jill. Since then, he starred in That’s My Boy… with Andy Samberg and Vanilla Ice. So yeah, we’ll just ignore that one. And now he’s voicing Dracula in Hotel Transylvania… with the voices of Andy Samberg and Fran Drescher and David Spade and and Cee Lo Green and Miley Cyrus.
A question. Did he insist on hiring the most grating voices on the planet, making his own voice tolerable by comparison? ‘Cause I can totally believe that.
Despite my passionate antagonism, I researched Mr. Sandler. There are actually many online articles titled, “In Defense of Adam Sandler.” Most take my stance, defending while simultaneously bashing.
Jason Diamond of Splitsider.com writes, “Sandler excels at being the living embodiment of the fart joke . . . even mentioning that I like his films is useless.”
Diamond attempts to explain his admiration, saying that the Sandler brand of comedy is purely visceral. He claims there is something innately enjoyable about watching the man flounder and fail, and sometimes people need mindless entertainment to take them out of their daily troubles.
Personally, I prefer hugging rabid cats.
Grady Smith of Popwatch.com takes a more pragmatic approach, writing, “I tend to judge actors based on their drawing power, rather than their craft. Looking at the numbers, it’s impossible not to think Sandler is brilliant.”
So let me get this straight. If you strip art from the equation and look at box office receipts, everything is okay!
“It’s impossible to deny that Sandler is pleasing some moviegoers out there,” Smith continues. “For every audience member who loathes Sandler’s work, there are several who would reject an “artsy-fartsy” film in favor of a “fartsy” film.”
Smith’s claim may be frustrating, but he is right. Mr. Sandler pleases his audience, as evidenced by the millions of dollars they fork over. It’s hard to say he’s dumb when he’s capitalizing on dimwittedness. In the end, Mr. Sandler is rather smart in the language of stupidity.
That’s probably the biggest compliment I can muster for Mr. Sandler.