Adam Sandler: Love You Review (2024)

Five minutes and at least one possible punchline into a freewheeling fantasy about meeting a genie outside an airport restroom, it’s still impossible to see where Adam Sandler is taking his audience with this one. It’s the beauty of every finely honed bit in Sandler’s latest Netflix special, Love You: There’s no telling what’s going to happen when he rips up the handbrake and drifts down a side road. Dirty but never mean-spirited – and consistently silly yet overtly sentimental – Love You is yet another slam dunk in Sandler’s third-quarter career comeback.

Directed by Josh Safdie (who, alongside his brother Benny, previously directed Sandler in Uncut Gems), Love You begins with a deliberately chaotic sequence that tracks Sandler’s arrival at the venue, up until his emergence on stage. The introduction is reminiscent of the captivating chaos of the Safdies’ 2019 diamond-district drama, albeit without the crippling anxiety. In contrast, Sandler’s on-stage performance itself is relaxed and intimate, and he’s unrushed as he eases through a series of unconnected jokes, one-man sketches, and hilarious songs. The venue itself – dressed like a dank, aging theatre still relying on Windows 95 – seems cozy and nostalgic. The set is occasionally stalled by engineered interruptions – like an equipment failure or the sudden arrival of a dog from backstage – but rather than being distractions, they serve to help Love You feel live and immediate. You really do feel like you’re in the small room as Adam Sandler goes about his business.

Pinballing through a parade of absurd jokes and clever songs, one moment Sandler may be describing the aftermath of a clown car crash, and the next he’s performing a highly relatable country track about a chore-laden dad who’s constantly muttering under his breath. What appears to be a heartfelt song about feeling superfluous in his growing daughter’s life is amusingly derailed by the one thing she does still need from him. A creative conversation positions “Merriam Webster” as a single man writing the dictionary while living at home with his violent brother, whose threats are the sole reason there’s a G and an H in the word ‘enough.’ “G-H is a fuh sound, f--k face,” spits Sandler in full character. It’s all as delightful as it is disconnected.

Perhaps above all, however, Love You is refreshing because nothing in it is remotely topical, or concerned with the ongoing, irritating discourse about what comedians can and can’t do in 2024. (For further reference, see entirely too many of the specials featured under Netflix’s “Stand-Up Comedy & Talk Shows” tab.) It’s tedious hearing comedy sets becoming the same list of beefs about the job itself. For his part, Sandler seems adorably unconcerned about the future of the art form as he launches into a funky verse about his fear of a suspicious guy with a backpack in a movie theater, or a back-and-forth with his dog about an indistinctly flaccid penis. Complaint comedy may rage on, but that doesn’t change the fact that Adam Sandler is still managing to make a joke about an unsolicited handjob ultimately harmless. He doesn’t see what all the fuss is about. Hopefully this condition is contagious.

Like 100% Fresh before it, Love You crescendos with one final original song from its star. In 100% Fresh it was his warm and stirring tribute to his dear friend Chris Farley, but in Love You the spotlight is wider. Here Sandler sings an ode to comedy itself, and its simple power to help “you feel the pain pass, all because Ace Ventura just talked with his ass.” Praising generations of comedians that came before him, plus his own long-time friends, as Sandler sings, “Movies get older but the kids still get ’em” his sincerity here is magnetic. Sandler is convinced a good joke will stay funny forever, and I’m inclined to believe him.