“Big Daddy” (1999, Dennis Dugan)
You might be hard-pressed to find many critics who were willing to call Sandler’s 1999 blockbuster “Big Daddy” a step in a more mature direction, but in hindsight, it was the first sign of more emotionally mature work from the Sandman. Sure, there were plenty of the usual broad jokes (Leslie Mann’s character’s arc is pretty much defined by her one-time employment at Hooters), but the underlying emotional arc of Sandler’s bachelor Sonny Koufax is one that felt like Sandler coming to terms with his own maturation into his 30s. And yes, it’s another Sandler film that, with a few tweaks to the logline, could be considered a disturbing drama: emotionally stunted 30-something poses as his more successful, mature friend and claims custody of a 5-year-old boy who shows up on his doorstep. But that’s sort of the magic of Sandler, especially in the first stage of his career. He’s able to take otherwise insane plots and unlikeable protagonists and bring warmth to them, making them accessible to young audiences, while still giving older fans some darker jokes to enjoy. “Big Daddy” has all the hallmarks of classic Sandler – the strangely relatable meltdown he has in a McDonald’s when he discovers they stopped serving breakfast earlier than he was led to believe, or breaking into an exceptionally unfestive prick’s house on Halloween when he denies the 5-year-old adoptee candy – but the last act, in particular, showcased some of Sandler’s hidden gifts for drama. His courtroom plea for acceptance from his cold, unloving father felt oddly cathartic for a Sandler film, once again proving that, beneath the juvenile veneer, there was a fascinating character actor waiting to be unleashed. – MR
“Punch-Drunk Love” (2002, Paul Thomas Anderson)
What separates Paul Thomas Anderson from many of his fellow auteur directors is that he openly goes to bat for actors and films that are often considered “guilty pleasures.” He’s an unabashed fan of Tom Cruise (who is hands down one of our finest actors and movie stars) and most notably, the ’90s comedies that made Sandler a star. Following up on his 1999 magnum opus “Magnolia” with a love story starring the unimaginable pairing of Sandler and Emily Watson, PTA introduced the world to what would be known as “dramatic Sandler.” As Barry Egan, the lonely plunger salesman who discovers a marketing error in a Healthy Choice airline miles give-away that sees him stocking up on pudding in order to retrieve infinite travel miles, Sandler is quite simply a revelation. Much in the same way Anderson broke down the archetypal Cruise persona in “Magnolia,” the director augmented the kind of rage-prone protagonists Sandler was known for playing, and married it with his own deep-seated insecurities. The result was a character that honed in on the most human and recognizable qualities of Sandler’s past characters, giving us a rare glimpse at the underlying sadness of Sandler, the thespian. There might not be a more painfully realistic portrayal of social anxiety than the sequence when Barry goes to one of his seven sisters’ birthday party, which begins with his sisters antagonistically ganging up on him, calling him “gay boy,” and ends with him taking a hammer to their sliding glass door. It ends up being some of the most emotionally affecting work that Sandler has ever done. The way he jolts slightly upon being snuck up on, or stumbles over his nephews’ toys, or awkwardly tells his brother-in-law “business is very food,” is all in service of an incredibly detailed portrayal of trauma-induced anxiety. Barry Egan is the result of a brilliant director mining the psychological depths of a comedic superstar’s persona, giving us Sandler’s most nuanced and deeply felt performance to date. – MR
“Spanglish” (2004, James L. Brooks)
There are a few different categories of James L. Brooks movies, and his 2004 dramedy “Spanglish” ultimately falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. It’s a middling, baggy, occasionally quite moving familial drama where contrived scenes stand right next to moments of real power and insight. In other words, it’s no “Terms of Endearment,” but it also certainly isn’t “How Do You Know.” And yet, “Spanglish” contains yet another revelatory dramatic performance from Sandler, this one hot on the heels of his career-redefining turn in “Punch-Drunk Love.” Brooks was allegedly inspired to cast the onetime Waterboy after seeing his brilliant, emotionally exposed turn in Paul Thomas Anderson’s hallucinatory love story, and while Sandler’s work in “Spanglish” is less explosive – and, ultimately, less memorable – than that earlier film, his work for Brooks offered further proof that the Sandman possessed the chops necessary to deliver a credible dramatic performance in an auteur-helmed prestige project. Here, Sandler plays John Clasky: an easygoing chef and committed family man whose amicable, schlubby surface demeanor disguises a roiling sea of insecurity and inadequacy. The scene where John’s wife Deborah (Téa Leoni, excellent) confesses her infidelity to her visibly crushed husband showcases some of the most delicate screen acting that Sandler has ever done – in fact, the entire movie is worth watching for this scene alone. Sandler is also convincingly manic in the scenes where he’s cooking gourmet food under a considerable degree of pressure, and similarly persuasive in his more serene and suggestive domestic scenes with Flor (Paz Vega), who plays the family’s housekeeper. Brooks’ screenplay sometimes feels worked-over and the film’s insights into upper-middle-class malaise are not quite as cutting as they should be, but if nothing else, “Spanglish” offers a kind of connective thread for those who were wondering how the great Cloris Leachman ended up in Sandler’s football yukfest “The Longest Yard.” – NL
“You Don’t Mess With The Zohan” (2008, Dennis Dugan)
Sometimes, a man just gets tired of all the aggression, the warring, the blood on his hands and the lives lost in the cycles of endless perpetuating violence. Written by Judd Apatow, Robert Smigel (Triumph The Insult Dog) and Sandler himself (not a rare occurrence, but not a super frequent one either), “You Don’t Mess With The Zohan,” is this American Jewish comedy trios’ attempt to tackle the Israeli/Palestinian conflict with humor and as you’d expect, the results are mixed, but it’s also one of the more inspired and hilarious Happy Madison Productions of this century (there’s not many of them) Sandler plays Zohan Dvir, a misunderstood elite Israeli counter-terrorist who yearns to fulfill more meaningful dreams. Sick of the bloodshed, shamed by his parents for harboring secret hairdressing dreams, Zohan fakes his death and moves to American to realize his desire to be a hairstylist for Paul Mitchell. It’s silly as hell, stereotypical, sometimes problematic and admittedly, painfully juvenile at times. But when it works, oh boy, it works, and one suspects the inclusion of Apatow and Smigel make this one kind of salvageable/kind of amazingly hysterical at times. Featuring incredible supporting turns by John Turturro (as a Palestinian terrorist named Phantom), Emmanuelle Chriqui, Nick Swardson, Ido Mosseri, and Lainie Kazan as the mom Zohan loves to “make sticky with,” ‘Zohan’ is very wrong at times. But Sandler is just so damn good at playing his interpretation of a very Israeli soldier with a sensitive side— super confident, somewhat thoughtful, despite being an arrogant, clueless womanizer and an elite killer to boot. ‘Zohan’ is absurdist, sometimes stupid, and yes, cringe-worthy at times, but it’s dumb gags about Israeli disco-pop, hummus, Israeli soft drink Fizzly Bubbly, and, Zohan’s outrageous libido and cocksmanship make for a film some of us love more than we may want to admit. – Rodrigo Perez