'Adam Sandler: Love You' review: Netflix special tinkers with the stand-up formula, to great effect
We are living in the Age of the Streaming Comedy Special, when it seems like there’s at least one new stand-up show every week from one of a vast array of talented comics — some legends, some up-and-comers, some stars of recent vintage. There’s Dave Chappelle and Bill Burr and Nikki Glaser and Matt Rife and Taylor Tomlinson and John Mulaney and Ali Wong and Chris Rock and Hannah Berner and Shane Gillis and Loni Love and Sebastian Maniscalco and Marc Maron and Nate Bargatze and Kevin Hart and the list goes on, and it’s pretty great to have such a wide variety of quality comedy offerings available at all times.
We’re also familiar with the format for the vast majority of these specials. A disembodied voice says, “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for. ..” and the comic steps out from behind the wings and onto a beautifully lit and designed set, with a glass of water on a stool in the middle of the stage, and off we go.
All well and fine, because the formula works and keeps us focused on the material. But it's refreshing when a comedian puts a creative and unique spin on the stand-up special, and that's what happens with “Adam Sandler: Love You.” There’s something brain-tickling and even a bit unsettling (in a good way) about this consistently funny but sometimes melancholy work. Sandler reteams with “Uncut Gems” co-director Josh Safdie for a special that exists in the real world, with the real Adam Sandler putting on a brilliant show, yet also veers into a kind of surreal, alternate-universe setting.
The first five minutes of “Love You” play like a deleted scene from “Uncut Gems,” with Sandler pulling up in an alley, the windshield of his car cracked, and politely dealing with a pack of rabid fans looking for autographs. (The crowd includes the real-life autograph collector Mitchell Wenig, who along with his brother Stewart appeared in “Uncut Gems” as brothers who were owed money by Sandler’s Howard Ratner.)
Once Sandler is inside, it’s clear the venue isn’t exactly the United Center or American Airlines Arena. “Who booked this place?” he wonders aloud as he navigates the shabby backstage area, eventually having a quick exchange with the opening act of ventriloquist Willie Tyler (and of course Lester) before taking the stage in front of a crowd of a few hundred fans.
Adam Sandler, who routinely sells out modern sports stadiums, is playing what could be charitably described as a truly s- - -ty venue.
Over the course of the next hour, a number of things go wrong; we’ll not reveal the snafus, other than to say that Sandler soldiers through every setback, even when the tech guy is both inefficient AND unapologetic. Turns out the grubbiness of the venue is literally built into the production, as Safdie and the production design team converted the Nocturne Theatre in Glendale, California, into a ramshackle disaster that looks like it’s on the brink of being shut down for multiple code violations. It’s strange to see one of the biggest comedy stars of his generation in such a downscale setting, but it’s never not interesting.
Of course, none of these offbeat choices would make much different if the material isn’t there, and in that department, Sandler delivers a hilarious yet thought-provoking mix of jokes and songs. Not everything works; an attempt to tell an elongated and quite filthy joke a la Norm Macdonald’s infamous “Dirty Johnny” routine wears out its welcome well before the punchline.
Mostly, though, Sandler comes through, whether he’s telling a story that sounds like it’s pulled from real life but quickly turns absurd (and that’s putting it mildly), or playing solid guitar while performing the genre-hopping songs, all of them co-written with Dan Bulla, who also provides keyboard accompaniment.
On the surface, these tunes are fairly simplistic rhymes that feature numerous punchlines in the lyrics and provide steady laughs, but when you reflect on the subject matter and how it’s handled, there’s something almost haunting about it. (I mean, we’re getting titles such as “Old Guy With a Kid,” “Depressed,” “Divorce” and “Scary S- - -.” )
Even the choice of Nicolette Larson’s adult contemporary classic “Lotta Love,” which is equal parts hopeful and lonely, to bookend the special is kind of curious, yet effective. There’s no explanation for why we’re hearing this song; it’s just there, and it fits the mood. By that time, we’re convinced this is some of the best work Adam Sandler has ever done.