The magical R-rating is both a gift and a curse to Adam Sandler's signature brand of lowbrow humor. In That's My Boy the comedian returns to the dim-witted roots that made him a star in early outings like Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore (complete with high-pitched mushmouth accent) but with a ramped up "ew" factor. Unrestrained Sandler piles on as many expletives and gross-out scenarios as a two-hour movie can hold — and it works out quite well. With costar Samberg nailing the disgusted straight man role Sandler's penchant for acting like a fool is enhanced by the sick stylings of director Sean Anders (Sex Drive) and only occasionally teetering into truly offensive territory. Laughs aren't guaranteed but the movie provokes (which is a big step up from Jack and Jill).
Back in the '80s Donny had a secret relationship with his teacher Ms. McGarricle that resulted in a son Han Solo (he's a middle schooler what do you expect?). The torrid affair put McGarricle in jail Donny into celebrity tabloid spotlight and Han Solo in the hands of a tween father. Thirty years later everyone's screwed up: Donny (Adam Sandler) is a drunk on the brink of jail time for tax evasion McGarricle's still in jail and Han Solo (Andy Samberg) now "Todd " is a successful number-cruncher with severe social issues. On the weekend of Todd's wedding Donny reenters his life hoping to bring revive their relationship and reunite him with his mother — that is on camera so Donny can make $50 000 from a gossip TV show and stay out of the slammer. Posing as Todd's long-lost best friend Donny stirs up trouble becoming buddies with Todd's friends and family and acting like a imbecile.
The wedding setup is overdone but always prime for comedy: plenty for a numbskull to screw up logical progression (there's a wedding at the end!) and a bachelor party scene to squeeze in the most disgusting bits and have them make sense. That's My Boy makes the most of its conventions — including what we all know and expect from a Sandler comedy — by continually one-upping itself. After a night of heavy drinking at the local strip club/omelette bar that results in do-it-yourself ear piercing and robbing a convenience store with Vanilla Ice Todd returns home to expel the night's worth of drinking all over his fiancee's wedding dress. Then he makes love to the dress. Then his fiancee (Leighton Meester) wakes up to find the dress. Then it goes even further than one would care to imagine. Grossed out yet? Amazingly lower-than-low brow material is handled with clever timing and great delivery. It's just that the foundation is bodily fluids.
That's My Boy falters when it throws in gags that serve zero purpose to the story. Strange racist humor a mentally retarded bar patron played by Nick Swardson (a Sandler mainstay) random allusions to Todd Bridges' drug habits — barrel-scraping one-offs that have nothing to do with the movie. At two hours the movie needs slimming and the fat is apparent. Thankfully the main ensemble goes to great lengths to make the hard R comedy click with Sandler and Samberg playing well off each other (although Samberg doesn't have the making of a leading man after this movie) and SNL alums like Will Forte Rachel Dratch and Ana Gasteyer driving by to bring the funny. Even Vanilla Ice's extended cameo fits the anything-goes tone playing a version of himself that befriended Donny in his celebrity days. Now he works at an ice skating rink.
After a few lame ducks That's My Boy is a return to form for Sandler. It wavers in quality but it has energy and color. A cash-in this is not and for any Sandler fan with a stomach for hardcore bathroom humor it's a must-see.
The weekend flew by with no signs of slowing down, starting with Saturday night's cocktail party at the Carlton Terrace, where wine started flowing early for everyone celebrating Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant's new film, Two Weeks Notice.
Also on Saturday, Antonio Banderas and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos hosted their après-midnight exclusive screening of Brian de Palma's Femme Fatale. Melanie Griffith, wearing a red-carpet shade of lipstick, accompanied her husband up the Palais steps.
Finally, Sunday: awards night! A full moon graced the Riviera, bathing the winners in a light the paparazzi couldn't rival.
A screening of Jeremy Irons's movie And Now… Ladies and Gentlemen coincides with the closing ceremony. In it, he plays an English gangster who meets a burnt-out jazz singer (played by real-life French pop star Patricia Kass) in Morocco.
David Lynch has quite a decorated history here in Cannes. In 1990 he won the coveted Palme d'Or for Wild at Heart, last year he won Best Director for Mulholland Drive, and last week he was awarded the French Legion of Honor while he was the head of the jury. On Sunday, everybody was waiting to find out from him who'd won what!
Martin Scorsese headed the short film competition with the help of fellow judge Tilda Swinton (Orlando) and others. Co-winners of the Jury Prize were The Stone of Folly, a story about a medieval-era doctor by Canadian director Jesse Rosensweet, and Very, Very Silent Film, by Indian director Manish Jua. Peter Meszaros of Hungary won the Palm d'Or of Short Film for Eso Utan.
The Camera d'Or is a prize that any first-time feature director in any part of the festival is eligible to win. This year two winners were awarded the Camera: French helmer Julie Lopes-Curval for Bord du Mar, about love in a seaside town, and Mexican filmmaker Carlos Reygadas for Japon, a story about redemption. Both films were part of the Directors Fortnight.
Mulholland Drive star Naomi Watts presented Michael Moore with the 55th Anniversary of Cannes Award for the first documentary ever to win, Bowling for Columbine. Michael attempted to make his acceptance speech in very labored French, and it was unclear what the locals thought of his mangled repartee.
Andie MacDowell awarded Elia Suleiman the Prix du Jury (the bronze prize.) His Divine Intervention is the first Palestinian movie in Competition.
Paul Laverty won the Best Screenplay Award for his work on Ken Loach's latest, Sweet Sixteen.
For the second year in a row, two directors shared the Best Director prize. In 2001, David Lynch and Joel Cohen shared it. This year it went to South Korean director Im Kwon-Taek for Chihwaseon, about a painter, and Paul Thomas Anderson for his dark romantic comedy Punch-Drunk Love, starring Adam Sandler.
The Best Actor award went to Belgian director Olivier Gourmet for his role in The Son from Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne. Best Actress went to Finnish performer Kati Outinen in The Man Without a Past. The movie, directed by Aki Kaurismakis, won the Grand Prix. Perhaps the silver medal wasn't good enough for him, because when he fumbled onstage to accept the award, he said, "I thank myself," and returned to his seat!
The big winner? Diminutive Roman Polanski loomed large at the festival this year. He received The Palme d'Or for The Pianist, a movie about the life of the Jewish pianist Wladyslaw Szpilman living in the Warsaw ghetto, starring Adrien Brody.
…and that's a wrap! Catch you next year live from Cannes!