Directed by Kyle Newacheck | Written by Tim Herlihy and Adam Sandler | 114 min | ▲▲1/2 | Netflix
Can you believe it’s been almost 30 years since Happy Gilmore came out? It remains Adam Sandler’s most beloved film — I mean, besides Punch Drunk Love — and he’s finally come up with a sequel. Shockingly, it’s not awful. That’s not necessarily an endorsement.
When we catch up with the infamously violent US Open winner, we see his life has had its ups and downs. He and his wife, Virginia (Julie Bowen) had four boys and a girl before he accidentally killed her on the fairway with a golf ball when he shanked a drive. That sends him down a spiral of brutality and alcohol — one of the weaker gags has him hiding booze all around his house and workplace, inside converted cucumbers and remote controls.
The whole unchecked toxicity and anger management — the source of most of the humour in the first picture — has been channelled into Happy’s obnoxious sons. His daughter, Vienna (actual daughter Sunny Sandler, and the eagle-eyed will spot other Sandler offspring in the cast) is a ballet prodigy, so Happy’s got to find a way to pay for her to go to school in Paris. With that motivation, he pulls himself out of the bottle and back onto the green.
There’s also a subplot where Benny Safdie plays a guy who’s starting a new, reimagined version of the game called Maxi Golf, but let’s just say the portion of the movie dedicated to it — the entire third act — is deeply ill-advised.
On the plus side we get plenty of slapstick and jokes referencing the original with a pile of cameos and supporting roles, some returning from the first film and a few brand new — amongst them Ben Stiller, Bad Bunny, John Daly, Steve Buscemi, Margaret Qualley, Post Malone, Travis Kelce, and Rob Schneider. Christopher McDonald is back as Happy’s nemesis, Shooter McGavin, who goes as big as Herbert Lom did in the Pink Panther movies, relishing his sweaty villainy, before eventually becoming a Happy ally in the fight against Maxi Golf.
Overall, this is uninspired but passable stuff. It doesn’t trouble hilarity, but is familiar enough to spend about 80 minutes. You’ll note it runs an extra 35.
