In case you were wondering what the best thing about being the Cinecultist is, it ain't the glamour, the fame or the formerly anonymous vacuous star-kins throwing their hot bods at us while we eat chicken. (That's how we're spinning our "relationship" with Michael Pitt right now, by the by. Until we get a cease and desist from his publicist or something. "Our client does not nor has he ever partook of greasy East Village chicken wings...") Oh no. It has to be constantly surprising our readers and friends with our phenomenally horrible and at the same time brilliant taste in movies. "But you're the Cinecultist!" we're told as we regale with the listener with sordid tales of our debauched weekend viewing. That's right, dammit, we are the Cinecultist -- and that means of course, that CC saw Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore in 50 First Dates on Saturday. And we liked it.
Walking out of the theater, CC got to pondering what exactly constitutes the pleasure of an Adam Sandler film and decided it was auteurist in nature. Which may piss off those who've come here after googling "Jean-Luc Godard" and "Anthology Film Archives," but the Sandler product is really all about the continuity across a filmography and authorial point of view. His production company is called Happy Madison (an amalgamation of two of his first film titles), he re-uses the same actors in his films (in particular his re-teaming here with Barrymore after the Wedding Singer) and even visual references to previous work, such as a golf ball to the noggin sequence. Also, like the Farrelly brothers when they succeed, Sandler's work has an unexpected sweetness amidst the Rob Schneider in a coconut bra jokes. He's a guy's guy who cracks up at projectile walrus vomit but he also deems the construction of an extended family a true happy ending.Posted by karen at February 24, 2004 7:45 AM