Crappy Gilmore 2: Adam Sandler's Return to the Green is a Swing and a Miss

With the recent drought of studio comedies, the label of “An Adam Sandler film” which used to garner instant revulsion is now greeted with a passionate embrace. His silly, golden-hearted approach to comedy represents a pathos since lost in the current comedy scene. Of course it helps to be several years removed from Sandler’s most prevalent era where you couldn’t walk 10 feet without running into the Sandman and one of his comedies. Regardless, whether it be an artistic shift in principles or nostalgia, Sandler is receiving a well overdue audience re-evaluation. With his renewed commercial appeal (and with help from a $275 million 4-picture deal with Netflix), the time was right for a return to the Sandman’s finest hour, 1995’s Happy Gilmore. Three decades later, the iconic golfer is back on the green, so to speak, but the sequel is a far cry from a hole-in-one.

I am of the opinion that Happy Gilmore is the best distillation of everything that Adam Sandler does well. It’s a simple story told with zany characters and its goal is not only to entertain, but to lift your spirits. The title character is like if a boy scout was fused with the members of the Delta Chi fraternity from Animal House. He’s crass and violent, constantly getting in brawls with whoever he can, but he has a charming naïveté that renders him harmless. The intentions of the film are pure, pitting a scrappy do-gooder against the smarmy face of the establishment. But beyond that, it’s funny. Really funny. Despite the rust of 30 years, the jokes are still fresh and innocuously funny. It’s the perfect slice of Sandler served in the reliable package of a sports film.

Returning for a sequel seemed inevitable, it’s shocking that it took this long. Because of all this time, the obvious shape of a Happy Gilmore sequel has morphed into something different. An all new era presents all new stakes, stakes that come with 30 years of influence, stardom, and legacy. Happy Gilmore 2 very proudly takes these stakes on, most apparently in the film’s jarring opening. After a sweet callback to the nostalgic film reel opening of the first film, Happy Gilmore 2 undergoes a sudden tonal shift. Very quickly, we’re introduced to Happy’s miserable world – accidentally killed his wife, single father to five kids, broke, alcoholic. Despite Sandler’s penchant for silly comedy, the opening is somber. This sadness is slightly broken up with occasional jokes, but they feel like wisecracks at a funeral. 

This grim seriousness luckily fades, but it never disappears. All of Happy Gilmore 2 has an undercurrent of morose gravity. Whether it be the spectre of his dead wife (the heartbreakingly underused Julie Bowen), Happy’s continued lapses into alcoholism, or Happy’s reckoning with his continued cultural irrelevancy, the governing forces behind Happy Gilmore 2 are substantially bleaker than the first. Sandler and director Kyle Newacheck certainly take a bold swing with these plot choices, but they don’t always work. There’s a difference between maturing and aging, and Happy Gilmore 2 does the latter. It acknowledges the shifts that come with 30 years between films, but it doesn’t do anything particularly creative with them, dramatically or comedically.There’s a larger spectre looming over the film that cuts it short of anything truly meaningful. Hence Happy Gilmore 2’s largest holdback: Happy Gilmore.

Whether or not the Sandman currently has the touch was irrelevant to the making of Happy Gilmore 2, what matters is that in 1996, he did. The producers of the movie knew this, and they knew that those willing to click ‘play’ on a sequel 30 years overdue knew this too. The result is not a film that plays on nostalgia, but rather skips nostalgia altogether and just shows you what you already like… again. Jumping past flashback and reference, a substantial chunk of the movie consists of directly replaying scenes from the first film. It completely jettisons context and appears when the audience demands it, not the narrative. In fact, the narrative ends up bending towards the moments of the original film that have since become iconic. It’s a shame, there’s something narratively interesting in the Sandman’s reckoning with age, but this is not the movie for that. This is the movie for fans of Happy Gilmore that want to watch Happy Gilmore but their VHS has worn thin. The resulting story feels strained, plodding through awkward long stretches until it reaches a crucial beat or an opportunity for a reference.

Occasionally the film throws a welcome curveball, and this is especially clear the re-characterization of Shooter McGavin. Christopher McDonald’s over-the-top villain of the first film continues his trend of stealing the show as he transitions from institutionalized arch nemesis into the slightly deranged coach of Happy and his golf team. McDonald is one of the film’s best strengths, and McGavin’s shallow but hilarious character arc is exactly what a legacy sequel such as this needs – take the best parts of the last one and flip it. Happy may be an older man who’s put fighting behind him, but his rambunctious band of sons haven’t. Happy is finally comfortable on the green, but his new caddy isn’t. Happy Gilmore 2 isn’t afraid to make fun decisions, and it’s in those moments that it shines. These instances show a promising step in the right direction – taking the spirit of the original and handing it over to an eager new generation. It works because there’s a connection, not merely an exchange of power but the forming of a new relationship where old and new can inform one another. And while Happy Gilmore 2 sometimes flirts with this acceptance, it makes its final position clear: nobody will be the new Happy Gilmore, least of all its sequel.

The reward for watching Happy Gilmore 2 is a big pat on the back for watching the first movie. Despite the odd interesting moment, the film is more concerned with where it came from than where it's going. Look at the central antagonist, a millennial golf enthusiast whose radical ideas for the sport threaten its very existence and it's up to Happy and a bunch of famous golfers that your dad likes to save the day. It’s a classic “older generation thumbing their nose down on the younger generation” type of plot, and it does the film no favors. The villains are unlikable douches, but they don’t make our heroes any more likable either. Obviously one can’t expect the most nuanced narrative about accepting obscurity from the sequel to Happy Gilmore, but something this black and white is a messy resolution to a film that begins on such a left field note. Because of this ending, I can’t help but get a creeping feeling that this is a movie made with enemies in mind. It posits that there are “right” ways to enjoy things and “wrong” ways. Regurgitate your lines from the original with a big grin on your face, that’s the right kind of Happy Gilmore fan. Expect something bold and different from something you admire, that’s the wrong kind. It considers itself made for the fans, but there’s a specific type of fan in mind. If you watched Happy Gilmore and decided that there hasn’t been a good comedy since this era, this movie is for you. Watch it and enjoy as it reaffirms your perspective and points and laughs at all those who disagree. If you hold the original in reverence but still seek to broaden your horizons with newer, different art, well, you may not be welcome here. Watch this, but know that there’s no beating the original, and it was foolish for you to think otherwise. The new generation is embraced, but with a caveat – know your place and respect your elders.

If this was any old comedy made by a cranky Gen-Xer, this wouldn’t be shocking, but there’s a deep irony to this being the sequel to Happy Gilmore. Part of Happy Gilmore’s continued charm is its scrappy, David-and-Goliath story. Happy is more than a stranger, he’s a pariah. His slapshot on the green is an absurd disruption to the status quo held by a snooty establishment. He picks up his caddy in the parking lot, he wears jeans and a Bruins jersey, he throws punches in between holes. No part of Happy Gilmore is embracing tradition, in fact it throws a big middle finger at the very concept. Happy Gilmore 2 unconsciously shifts into the position of its own villain. If the Happy of the first film walked into his own sequel, he would not be the hero. It’s an unfortunate type of sequel, so protective of its own legacy that it paints itself into a corner, only occasionally stepping out of its comfort zone but largely staying confidently in its own lane. 

I still believe in the Sandman. I think he’s an immensely talented actor and I think his style of innocent, silly comedy is sorely missed. I’ll remain seated for the 2020's Sandler renaissance, but Happy Gilmore 2 is a misfire. Neutered and watered down for Netflix’s streaming model, Sandler’s antics are given no room to grow. This does not feel like a next step, nor does it feel like a return to form. It feels like a big, expensive neon sign affixed to a peeling billboard for the original film that says “he’s got the jokes!”

Sandler’s charm is his ability to be the dopey everyman. Anyone of any age capable of a silly voice is let in on the joke, and Sandler gleefully rubs shoulders with them. Happy Gilmore 2 seems to lock the Sandman behind bars. Bars made of age, nostalgia, and interests. The people’s champ has been shackled for no reason other than a bitter battle of the generations. Happy Gilmore 2 is a great watch for anybody still insecure about liking a silly comedy from 30 years ago who wants to stick it to the kids for liking something else. But for those who want a great sports comedy that’s equal parts funny and lovable – stick with that same silly comedy from 30 years ago.