50 First Dates (2004)
Directed by Peter Segal
Written by George Wing

Unlike Jim Carrey, Adam Sandler has managed a pretty smooth transition into mellower adult roles than the ones that made him famous, and the reason is simple: he sticks to what works. Though an Adam Sandler movie always banks hard on the guy's nebbishy sex appeal, Sandler has been able to retain the elements of his style that his fans crave without resorting to dubious reinvention or grandiose over-reaching. 50 First Dates is in many ways exactly what you'd expect, but the older and slightly more mature Sandler is actually a good deal more palatable than the younger and more hyper one.

I don't have much patience for shit like Happy Gilmore or Billy Madison, which are much more about crazy antics and unreasonable outbursts than anything real, but Sandler's sweet side has a tendency to creep up on me, and sometimes even make me a little misty-eyed, if I'm caught in the right mood. The difference usually has everything to do with who and what Sandler surrounds himself with – pair him with a cute kid (Big Daddy), and Sandler's little-boy qualities are put into nice relief. Pair him with a self-conscious mullet (The Wedding Singer), and his smug side takes over big time.

50 First Dates wisely surrounds Sandler with cute kids, cute animals, Drew Barrymore at her loveliest, and Rob Schneider at his most shameless. Though as always, Sandler is portrayed as an almost godlike figure to whom everyone on screen will always defer, he is restrained and tasteful in his reactions. Dare I say, very nearly believable.

The story, of course, is anything but believable. Sandler is a player who falls in love with Barrymore, who was in a car accident that left her unable to form new memories. Hence, she forgets each day, each night.

Yeah, so that's Groundhog Day. And later, when Drew is hospitalized (!), the tone takes on a rather unexpected shade of Awakenings. But the premise is direct enough to allow for some good set-pieces that let Sandler do his thing while staying within an understandable context.

Sean Astin is on hand as Drew's steroid-pumpin' brother (with a pretty hilarious non-gay lisp), and Schneider steals all of his scenes as a stoner Hawaiian dad. He seems more or less thrown in as a concession to the stoner frat boys who are Sandler's bread and butter, but what the hell … at least the Cheech-and-Chong shit didn't supply the majority of the humor.

The ending cops out big-time, but again, this is an Adam Sandler movie, and as I said, he sticks to what works. Keep things tidy. Don't go over the audience's head. Keep the jokes coming. Make many of them dick jokes.

And for once, I'm on board, for the most part. Maybe I'm mellowing too.

Review by Señor Golf