Abhorrent “Click” a Turnoff
I’ve come to the conclusion that the epitome of comedy to Adam Sandler and director-slash-friend Frank Coraci (“The Wedding Singer,” “The Waterboy”) is the sight of two dogs humping a giant stuffed yellow duck. While I can’t really point out similar sequences in the comic’s other pictures (I admit to doing all I can to block them out) I do know that they are, in fact, there, Sandler movies notable for just how quickly they go to the crudely sexual gag every time they run out of ideas.
His and Coraci’s latest “Click” is no exception. It’s almost like clockwork, but any time screenwriters Steve Koren and Mark O’Keefe’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” retread stalls out for something to do out pops the sex joke. The more obscene or crude (in a PG-13 sort of way) the gag the better, and whether this is theirs, Sandler’s or Coraci’s fault I really can’t say. More than likely this is all due to a combination of the wants of all four, each doing their best to out gross-out the other assuming this is exactly what the audience wants from the picture.
Maybe they’re right. The honest truth is that when Sandler hams it up and gets crude like this his films are phenomenally successful. I get the feeling “Click” will be another notch in that belt, an almost guaranteed box office smash. It showcases the actor the way his fans have always liked him best. For them, this movie is an almost certain gut-busting sensation, and no matter what I try to say to the contrary it is probably not going to make a lick of difference as far as ticket sales are concerned.
That doesn’t mean I’m still not going try. This comedy is a disaster on almost every level, Sandler insufferably mugging his way through it. While I’ve never been his biggest fan I’ve also never outright hated him, and thanks to charming turns in “The Wedding Singer” and “Spanglish” (which was otherwise pretty dreadful), and a borderline brilliant one in “Punch-Drunk Love,” I’d almost go so far as to admit he’s got Oscar-level potential. Not bad for a guy who annoyed the heck out of me each and every week when he appeared as a regular on “Saturday Night Live.”
But he’s perfectly awful in this. Sandler overacts incessantly, taking thins so far over the top time and time again it got to the point I started slamming my pen against my forehead in a futile effort to ease the pain. He has absolutely no connection to either his character or to the material, and with nearly every single scene in the picture focuses squarely upon him this is a thing the movie cannot begin to overcome. I may not have hated him before but I did in this, and while I’m sure he won’t lose any sleep over that fact to see the man who amazed me so thrillingly in Paul Thomas Anderson’s remarkable opus stumble so badly nearly broke my heart.
Sandler plays architect Michael Newman, working under the thumb of chauvinistic boss Mr. Ammer (David Hasselhoff) in hopes someday he’ll be made a partner at his firm, hopefully giving his wife Donna (Kate Beckinsale) and their two children a life of opportunity he thinks only money will afford. But all this work comes at a cost, his wife and kids slowly drifting away from him as he gets lost in a sea of long hours, missed swim meets and cancelled Fourth of July vacations.
On a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond for a universal remote, Michael comes into contact with the eccentric Morty (Christopher Walken), an apparently omnipotent man toiling away in the Beyond section of the bed and bath superstore. He gives him a remote that does far more than control the television, it also gives him the opportunity to control, and review, his life. Suddenly Michael can fast-forward through arguments, pause his boss in mid-sentence or jump whole chapters in his life so he can finally get to his longed for promotion without having to engage in the day-to-day drudgery of getting there.
There’s a cost, of course, and the moral of the story is a forgone conclusion even before Morty hands Michael the universal remote. But people are not going to this movie for the surprises, they are going for the laughs, and other than a few silly witticisms and a wondrously eccentric turn from Walken those laughs are very few and even further between. While I liked the fact Michael’s life came with an interactive menu screen much (complete with audio commentary by a certain CNN pitchman no less), and while the first moments of him discovering exactly what his new electronic tool accomplishes (Beckinsale’s frozen features almost angelic in their dissatisfaction), they weren’t near enough to get me to ignore the turgid awfulness of the rest.
This movie is a waste. Beckinsale, Sean Astin, Julie Kavner and Henry Winkler are stranded with characters so thin they might as well as be pancakes, while this whole “Bruce Almighty”-like mess (no shock there, the writers wrote that, too) is such a frazzled incompetently constructed assault on the senses a person needs multiple milligrams of Advil to try and get over the pain. The only upside is that that “Click” will make for a perfect DVD, because when it does come out a viewer has the power to use their own universal remote and click the bright red power button, thus turning this disaster off.
Film Rating: ê1/2 (out of 4)
