No One Loves This More Than Adam Sandler

As a long-time admirer of Adam Sandler‘s comedy, I must say that his latest special “Love You” is a delightful blend of humor and heartfelt sentiment. Being someone who has spent more years than I care to admit watching Sandler’s films and stand-up performances, I can certainly relate to the idea of battling through the hardships of fame while trying to stay true to oneself.


Towards the culmination of his latest Netflix special titled “Love You,” Adam Sandler transitions into a distinct tone. For an hour, he delivers his characteristic humor, joking about matters like unattended baby-wipes, enhancing male genitalia with Botox, and the bitter disappointment of spoiling a delightful day at Disneyland by taking a wrong turn on the way home and cursing profusely. However, what’s unique about this special is that it consistently employs sincerity as a key element in its humor, though it often remains subtle. Towards the end, the intention becomes clear: to evoke strong emotions. As he shares with the audience that the guitar he’s playing was a gift from his father when he was 12 years old, Sandler switches gears into a song explaining why he makes people laugh. “You’re feeling low, boy. No one’s around, boy. Head in your hands and pain, so much pain. Can you ever be yourself again?” he sings. “You know, it’s comedy.”

The film “Love You,” directed by Josh Safdie, is more than just a prelude to a theory about laughter as the ultimate cure. It’s also a movie that masterfully combines suspense and raw chaos in a way only a Safdie production can. In this film, Adam Sandler portrays a man grappling with numerous challenges amidst a chaotic setup that seems on the verge of collapse at any moment. The blend of tension, honesty, and absurdity is what makes “Love You” so enjoyable. It’s like a circus train filled with clowns and fake plastic waste, constantly teetering on the edge of disaster, yet always managing to arrive at a destination of love and sentimentality.

The scene at the outset is quintessentially Safdie. Sandler, having arrived in a vehicle with a cracked windshield, is immediately engulfed by a whirlwind of noise, demands, and sensory stimuli that pull him in numerous directions. Paparazzi are dogging his steps. The crowd, including a youngster brandishing what seems to be covert photos of Sandler’s actual residence, clamors for autographs. As he makes his way backstage, he discerns his opening act is a ventriloquist, and the audience appears disinterested. He swaps sweatshirts with a casual acquaintance off-stage because his hoodie has coffee stains on it. He’s asked to sign 40 Happy Gilmore jerseys for charity; he manages three before being whisked onto the stage, narrowly escaping a random dog tripping him as he descends the stairs and greeting a security worker’s hospitalized son via video call. The chaos is palpable.

Initially, the performance starts off chaotically, meticulously staged to resemble chaos, yet when Adam Sandler appears on stage, more mishaps ensue, making it unclear how much was planned. The screens behind him are supposed to display props, but they’re stuck on a Windows desktop background, and an announcement over the theater system assures that efforts are being made to rectify the issue. Despite his attempts to disregard the absurdity of the opening and the impression of a haphazard production, interruptions persist throughout the performance. Equipment malfunctions, people in the audience brawl, and Sandler halts to mediate. At one instance, the dog he nearly stumbled over backstage darts into the audience, causing a pause while everyone greets it (named Gary).

For comedians who achieve a significant level of popularity, fame can present challenges in their work – barriers to connection that need to be acknowledged and preferably dispelled, or peaks to consistently climb higher with larger stages and extravagant performances. However, this is the unique portrayal of stardom by Sandler (and Safdie), and it’s more impactful and poignant than Kevin Hart making self-deprecating jokes about his personal wood-fired pizza oven or Ellen DeGeneres attempting relatable humor about airplanes. Yes, you are the main attraction, suggests Love You. Yes, everyone is here to see you, and it’s a tremendous blessing, ultimately allowing you to do what you passionately love and believe in almost to the point of pain. But you are also the central figure of a massive economic and creative system, and when things go wrong, success or failure hinges on you. Sandler is simply trying to keep everything going smoothly. He’s striving not to be unkind. And it’s worth it because people might find humor in an unusually detailed joke about a sexually demanding anthropomorphized birthday balloon.

In Sandler’s opening, both jokes subtly suggest that fame is something to be recognized yet transcended. One joke involves a lady sporting a tattoo of Sandler on her leg. The other narrates a friend approaching Sandler while he’s enjoying grapes and stating that Sandler has changed. ” ‘Scram, I’ve always enjoyed grapes,'” Sandler replies to the pal. However, the friend persists in disliking this new version of Sandler, eventually storming off. Later, Sandler asks the man feeding him grapes, “What do you think? Do you believe I’ve changed?”

For the remaining part of the hour, he makes an effort to get rid of feelings of self-consciousness. Instead of trying to portray his life in a generalized and misleading way by discussing topics like parenthood or marriage, he often converts everyday observations into songs. One example is a tune about how much time he spends on household chores while grumbling quietly, another features Halloween sound effects and highlights frightening elements in ordinary daily activities such as driving with the sun in your eyes at 3 pm. When his humor isn’t presented through music or when he delves into extended anecdotes, it tends to veer towards the surreal, like jokes involving a lewd birthday balloon or another lengthy story about discovering a genie who claims his current master is a real nuisance. (Even this one has a subtle twist about fame in the end.)

This material, typically from Sandler, is familiar ground where he excels. Occasionally, it’s a bit simplistic, sometimes childish, and at times, it delves into the peculiarities of current life in vivid detail. The crowd is engaged and tangible; take for example, when Sandler singles out an audience member under a spotlight, sings a song about the man who makes everyone uneasy with his drone flights on the beach. The audience appears enthusiastic even when, without any apparent reason, Sandler invites Rob Schneider onto the stage as an Elvis impersonator, serenading “It’s Now or Never.”

Despite Sandler’s high-profile status, his profession remains challenging, marked by constant struggles against the odds and frequent mishaps. This is not a glamorous or consistently enjoyable endeavor; it can be downright strange, like when Gary unexpectedly appears on stage. Yet, it carries immense importance, which Sandler underscores sincerely in his closing number. In this performance, he expresses the notion that comedy serves as a balm for life’s hardships. As he expounds upon this theme, technical issues with the screens plaguing him throughout finally resolve, showcasing a montage of scenes from works such as “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” “SNL,” “Abbott and Costello,” and “Bridesmaids.” In his song, he poetically describes laughter easing pain through references to characters like Ace Ventura. The piece eventually transitions into a heartfelt list of gratitude, acknowledging numerous role models, collaborators, and friends, concluding with tributes to departed friends like Chris Farley and Norm Macdonald.

Fundamentally, “Love You” succeeds so well because it seizes the chance to go beyond merely recording a Sandler performance. His emotional investment yields greater rewards, as the entire spectacle serves as both entertainment and self-parody. He wholeheartedly embraces being the butt of the joke during his own show, demonstrating an unwavering dedication to the act. Similar to any exceptional special, “Love You” offers a glimpse into Sandler’s thoughts, but the Safdie brothers’ direction and unique conceptual framework transform it into a representation of him, viewed from an external perspective. He appears burdened and fatigued, yet his love for this job is almost painfully clear.

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2024-08-28 20:54