Sometimes, I laugh primarily out of disbelief. Like, say, the great Al Pacino agreeing to appear in a comedy in which Adam Sandler plays brother and sister twins?
Let’s face it, Pacino doesn’t always hit it out of the park either (Righteous Kill), but c’mon, that’s a chuckle fuelled by disbelief right there.
Unfortunately, when Jack and Jill really starts to veer sideways and Pacino is not only forced to romance Jill (again, Adam Sandler in drag) but rap and dance in a Dunkin Donuts commercial for a new coffee to be called “Dunkacino,” well, at that point, the movie just ain’t funny anymore. It’s sad.
There isn’t much of a plot to Jack and Jill, just a concept that would have enough trouble filling up a four-minute sketch from Sandler’s Saturday Night Live days, let alone a 90-minute film.
Jill (in case you’re just joining us, that’s Sandler in a dress, wig and makeup) journeys from her home in the Bronx to spend Thanksgiving with her brother Jack (Sandler) and his family (including wife Katie Holmes, stuck in what could be the most thankless role ever captured on film. She reacts to often goofy, but mostly awkward situations. That’s it. Just reacts.)
Jill is annoying and won’t go home, while Jack is impatient and cold. However, as the head of an ad agency, Jack is desperate to get one Al Pacino to do a donut spot. And, for whatever reason, Pacino has the hots for Jack’s sister.
I think you can see where this is going.
At one point in his career, this might have been funny stuff, but Sandler just doesn’t have the youthful spring to do the Billy Madison-like lampoon justice anymore. And while Jack and Jill isn’t his worst film (remember, this is the man responsible for Little Nicky. And Big Daddy. And Grown Ups. And, well, I could go on, but it’s getting depressing), this sure isn’t one to remember.
There are all kinds of cameo mugs from big stars and pro athletes, the usual band of idiots that seem to always assemble for a Sandler project (wow, sure didn’t expect to see David Spade in a dress – can you sense the sarcasm in my written word?), and some admittedly decent slapstick (who wants to see Sandler get smacked by the big wheel on the Price Is Right?), but none of it clicks.
When Pacino struggles to play himself, it’s a pretty good sign that things are heading south. At least Jack and Jill should be conditioned to tumble downhill.
–– Jason Armstrong is the longtime movie reviewer for The Morning Star.
