Summary:

Through a bizarre set of circumstances, mild-mannered David Buznik (Adam Sandler) ends up in an anger management class, headed up by pop psychologist, Dr. Buddy Rydell (Jack Nicholson). Through another bizarre set of circumstances, Rydell ends up moving in with Buznik, wreaking havoc upon his life.

Steve says:

Curse you, Hollywood. You keep coming up with ways to make me go see an Adam Sandler movie, even though, quite sometime ago (circa HAPPY GILMORE) I took a solemn vow that I would never again darken the doors of a theater showing his latest piece of crap. But my resolve was broken early when Sandler did THE WEDDING SINGER, in which he played something akin to a real, living breathing human being. Of course, he then slipped back into his old ways with the appallingly retching LITTLE NICKY, thus rendering my job considerably easier. He then teamed up with one of my favorite writer-directors, Paul Thomas Anderson for PUNCH DRUNK LOVE. Of course, I had to go. While that film didn’t quite live up to the standards set by Anderson’s BOOGIE NIGHTS and MAGNOLIA, it was tons better than the average Sandler epic. This brings us to ANGER MANAGEMENT. You see, I won’t miss a film that Jack Nicholson is in; so once again my convictions were tested and found wanting. Off I went.

What makes this movie worth seeing at all is the fact that, surprisingly, Sandler plays second banana to Nicholson, even though the former Saturday Night Live star has top billing. Yes, billing over Jack Nicholson. If that doesn’t prove that the Apocalypse is just around the corner, I don’t know what does.

ANGER MANAGEMENT is a jumble of several funny scenes and several others that don’t quite work, all in search of a coherent storyline. Oh, there is the obligatory attempt at the film’s end to explain away the myriad improbabilities that plague David Dorfman’s fractured script. But all, in all, it ends up being just about what you would expect from an Adam Sandler flick -- silly, simplistic and dumber than a bag of hammers.

Marisa Tomei pisses away what might be left of her Oscar cache on this clichéd role of the dutiful girlfriend who is devoted to a guy who, in a tragic accident of birth, is totally without any charm or charisma. With her Oscar-nominated performance in IN THE BEDROOM, there was some hope that perhaps Tomei had not strayed too far from the path of thespic righteousness. Then she had to go and do this. Time to change agents, Marisa.

This is not to say that there aren’t some tasty laughs in the course of the movie, but most of them are attributable to the old pro, Nicholson, who gets solid support from John Turturro and Luiz Guzman. Most of those laughs come early in the movie, before it begins its long, tortuous slide into total balderdash.

Look for some fun cameos from Harry Dean Stanton, John C. Reilly and an uncredited Heather Graham. Oh, and there are a few lines from former New York Mayor Rudy Guliani, Yankee star Derek Jeter and some other baseball guys that I couldn’t identify if I were being tortured for the information.

I am now raising my right hand, in full view of each and every one of you, and swearing that I will never again attend an Adam Sandler movie. I don’t care if it’s written by God and directed by Preston Sturges returned from the dead...so help me, Jerry Lewis.

Were it not for Jack Nicholson, this would have been worth one kernel. But thanks to him, it gets three.

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Patty says:

Okay, I’ll remind you that you said that. Not only did you say it, but I’ve got it in print. Otherwise, it’s kind of like marriage vows. Yeah, yeah, you say em, but when it’s three in the morning and I’ve got indigestion, you forget all about that “cherish” part when I want you to drive to the Rite Aid and get me some Pepto. I’ve got this in writing…NO MORE ADAM SANDLER MOVIES! There is a god, and she loves me.

I felt like it was me against the world when PUNCH DRUNK LOVE came out. I couldn’t get past Sandler’s penchant for slapstick and silliness and embrace the art in that movie. Every other critic in Tinsel Town seemed to be giddy in hot Sandler love. I kept waiting for him to regress to slapstick or slip into that stupid falsetto whine that characterizes his acting. Even Steve sold out. I saw him eyeing electric blue polyester jackets when we stopped at Target for vacuum bags.

ANGER MANAGEMENT had me fooled for over half the movie. When I grimly took my seat in the theater, I fortified myself with Reeses Pieces and Diet Coke and prepared for the drudgery of another bad Sandler flick. Sandler’s top billing notwithstanding, it started out looking like a Nicholson film. Nicholson appeared, as he always does, like he was having more fun than an adolescent who just discovered smut on the Internet. Sandler actually played his straight man and the two seemed to have good chemistry. I laughed out loud at their antics and although the story took some unbelievable twists, I rolled with it and had a good time. Eventually, however, it all just got too strange. Nicholson hasn’t aged well physically. When the plot pushed him into a romantic tryst with Tomei, I found myself mentally writing my grocery list. Of course, if I had given much thought to Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie, I guess it isn’t a stretch.

It began to go downhill when Sandler got into a knock down drag out with a Buddhist monk. It was a funny concept to think about, but so is thinking about your own conception. Some things are just best left uncontemplated. Just when the story had fallen into the zero believability range, they threw in a string of cameos to bolster sagging viewer interest. While Giuliani did a superhuman job pulling New York City together after the 9/11 tragedy, even he couldn’t pull together the finale of this film. The holes in this script were unsuturable.

I find myself giving the film more credit that it deserves at three kernels. Like Steve, I’ll give Nicholson credit for two of those little hummers.

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