Don Bauder 5:30 p.m., March 10
Advance Notice: Patrick Bateman Reviews That's My Boy
You all remember Patrick Bateman, right? American Psycho's connoisseur of pop? (For those of you who don't enjoy depictions of dismemberment by axe, you can stop the following at about 1:25.)
Well, as fate would have it, the boys at Happy Madison aren't holding any screenings for Adam Sandler's upcoming comedy That's My Boy. So we called in a fictional critic to do a little fictional review work, just until we get a chance to see it for ourselves. Take it away, Patrick!
"Thanks, Matthew! I'm delighted to have this chance to discuss Adam Sandler, an artist who I think has finally reached aesthetic maturity."
Bateman removes children's foam bat and aluminum baseball bat from gym bag he is carrying for some reason.
"Sandler's early man-child work in Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore was intriguing in its examination of Generation X's hesitance about growing up, but it was a trifle actorly for my tastes - an artist portraying what the audience needs him to be, instead of what he is."
Bateman slides plastic core out from the center of the foam bat, slides aluminum bat inside foam casing.
"Unfortunately, that tension between interior need and exterior expectation ultimately proved too much for a instrument as tightly strung and sensitive as Sandler, and he suffered a nasty lapse into pure pretense. I'm thinking here of his mannered portrayals of confused failures in Spanglish and Punch-Drunk Love, and most pathetically, the self-parody of Funny People."
Bateman wallops Lickona in the crotch with foam-aluminum bat, stands over Lickona's writhing body.
"But through it all, Sandler never lost touch with his artistic roots - fellow pioneers like Kevin James and Rob Schneider. And eventually, their influence during projects like King of Queens and Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo brought Sandler back to his senses, but in a new and better way. Sandler is no longer an actor; he is simply an artist living on camera, a man in whom other men cannot help but see themselves."
Bateman begins beating Lickona savagely in rhythm with his speech, as if to emphasize his points.
"With the benefit of hindsight, we can see that I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry was nothing less than prophetic with regard to the blue-collar world's acceptance of the notion that gays are people too, and that gay marriage is an idea whose time has come. Obama had to evolve on this point, but Sandler's simple firefighter knew half a decade ago that history was on his side."
"What is Grown-Ups but a man's melancholy meditation on mortality - the pool-peeing scene as deep and heartbreaking as anything in Bergman's The Seventh Sign. When Death cries, "For shame!" to a soul attempting to flee its fate, it is simply a less artful version of Salma Hayek's disappointment in Sandler's hijinks."
"And Jack & Jill? Well, I don't have to tell you about that. But That's My Boy - a searing examination of Sandler's own legacy, as embodied by comedic upstart of the moment Andy Samberg. The identical initials of the two actors is by no means an accident, I can assure you. Sandler, like Kubrick, does not leave anything to chance. Personally, I'm thrilled."
Bateman drops the tattered foam bat on Lickona's lifeless body, adjusts his tie, smooths his hair, and leaves the room.
More like this:
- New releases opening this week: You Will Be My Son, A Single Shot and more — Sept. 20, 2013
- Review: That's My Boy — June 18, 2012
- Comedy is Pain Dept. — March 14, 2012
- Review: Jack and Jill — Nov. 10, 2011
- Lunar Park — Oct. 13, 2005