The New Cult Canon: Punch-Drunk Love

I don't get Adam Sandler. I sometimes find him funny, but I often have trouble seeing the human being behind the mush-mouthed infantilism and blind rage that constitute his screen persona. Sandler specializes in playing petulant man-children who act up until grown-up circumstances set them straight, but the second part of that equation has never felt authentic in any of his movies. Sandler really does seem like one of the 13-year-old boys that have been his bread-and-butter for years: He thrives on lowbrow jokes and violent slapstick, and his characters are pathologically self-centered and nearly incapable of generating compassion for anyone else. When he's finally forced to value his ridiculously hot wife and family in Click, or learn to run the family business in Billy Madison, he wears the vaguely sullen expression of a brat being forced to apologize to his sister, even if he doesn't really mean it. If.
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