The theater where Adam Sandler’s new Netflix comedy special, “Adam Sandler: Love You,” was shot doesn’t exist. Yes, the audience is real, but the space in Glendale, California, with carpeted walls and sinking floors and dogs that wander on stage, is not actually a comedy theater. It is, like the construct of so many of the jokes Sandler shares on stage, based on truth but ultimately fictional, staged to look like a library basement, like the worst space you could possibly have a comedy show at. And yet, Adam Sandler, one of the most famous and wealthiest comedians in the world, who still wears basketball shorts every single day, is there. Beyond offering jolting moments of comedy, that staging embodies just that contradiction.
The special was directed by Josh Safdie, who makes it feel both dark and eerie without detracting from the humor at play. There are no Jewish jokes in the special, maybe because the Sandman already gave us a literal bat mitzvah movie (dayenu), but listening to my own husband talk to our kids in a Sandler-esque voice the evening we watched the special, making jokes while trying to get them into bed, I couldn’t help but feel that the special was full of Jewish dad energy.
That’s not to say that this is in any way a sanitized version of the iconic comedian and prolific filmmaker (who just cast Travis Kelce for his “Happy Gilmore” sequel, a power move that was sure to impress his Swiftie daughters). Sandler is still one of the filthiest, dirtiest comedians around. The sex and masturbation jokes are abundant, and they don’t just stay in the human realms — there are dirty jokes about dogs, genies and surprisingly, but maybe not at all, balloons. There’s a song about a kid who walks in on his parents having sex that I hated myself for laughing at — in the same way I hate myself for laughing at my 6-year-old’s particularly terrible scatological humor. And maybe that’s what is so powerful about Sandler: He makes you feel just as slimy as him when you laugh at these jokes, but also, they’re still so funny. But yeah, if you don’t like filthy humor, I would not recommend “Love You.”
There are also a lot of jokes about parenting that feel super grounded in the experiences of raising kids. A trip to Disneyland ruined by road rage. The nerve-wracking experience of trying to hold on to a helium balloon for your kid after a birthday party (so terrifying). A dark and funny song about a dad whose only way to connect with his teenage daughter is to buy her beer. Sandler’s family, including his daughters, is part of these jokes, though they all go off in clearly fictional directions. His mother, too, is part of a song about real life horrific scenarios — including when your mother comes for a visit without a return flight. He also channels his late dad Stanley in a morbid joke about fatherly advice.
His longwinded jokes feel like the stories you make up for your kids at night when you’re too tired to get a book and also too tired to really make up a good story — they’re loopy and unhinged (though again, way more explicit than anything you would actually say to your kids) and the humor is wrapped up into the surprise of where Sandler takes these stories mostly rooted in very mundane daily rituals. The special also includes plenty of Sandler’s particular brand of musical comedy; he rose to fame as a standup comic through his musical comedy albums (communally listened to by many a Jewish teen going to summer camp) and he’s still got it. SNL writer Dan Bulla (that’s Cantor Jerry to die-hard “You’re So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah” fans and the man behind “Tiny Horse” to those who love a perfect SNL musical sketch) accompanies him on the keyboard on stage, and they totally rock out. No matter how absolutely shamefully filthy some of the songs are, I almost always found myself wanting to sing along.
Yet perhaps the most Jewish dad energy of all was how endearing this special ultimately is. I love it when Bulla and Sandler break into dorky, earnest laughter in the middle of the bits and the staged chaos. I love it when Sandler keeps yelling “love you” to the crowd. And I love the schmaltzy ending in the form of an ode to the comedy that tethers us in our lives, which includes shout-outs to great Jewish comedians like Joan Rivers and Don Rickles and countless others. Like any good Jewish dad who loves to joke at all times, the way Sandler I’m sure does with his two daughters, at the root of his humor is always a deep love, a search for connection. And despite the staged venue and the fictionalized jokes, I think “Love You” is, ultimately, quite loving.
