Grade: C
An unlikely couple, Jack Nicholson and Adam Sandler steer “Anger Management” into the cross-generational, cross-genre waters of awkwardness previously chartered by Eminem and Elton John in their infamous Grammy duet. Both actors put forth fine efforts in this entirely performance-driven film, but save for a few memorable scenes, the oil and vinegar simply don’t mix.
Dave Buznik (Sandler, “Billy Madison”) is a community-college graduate in an Ivy League world. He is a hard worker and loyal boyfriend but only emerges from his shell of intimidation when alone with his girlfriend, Linda (Marisa Tomei, “My Cousin Vinny”).
An utterly absurd yet perversely amusing course of events lead Buznik to wreak havoc aboard an airplane and assault a blind man. Rather than send Dave to prison, a judge (deceased Lynne Thigpen, “Shaft”) sentences him to intense, round-the-clock anger management with the noted and controversial therapist Buddy Rydell (Nicholson, “As Good As It Gets”), a punishment arguably worse than jail.
What follows is not so much a movie as a sketch comedy determined to milk the Sandler/Nicholson pairing for as many one-joke scenes of outrage as possible. Whether it is their sharing of an undersized bed or their tag-team assault on a monk, their activities do little to actually advance any semblance of a plot, other than reiterating the painful juxtaposition of the patient’s sanity to the therapist’s obvious insanity.
The jokes, however, are often uproarious. From a “Seinfeld”-esque commentary on airplane etiquette in a time of heightened caution and patriotism to an unforgettable moment involving Gershwin music and the Queensboro Bridge, the laughs are plentiful.
Be warned, though, that such humor frequently comes at an offensive price. The movie takes cheap shots at combat veterans, the physically handicapped, the mentally handicapped, overweight pets and Buddha himself, just to list a few.
The film also comes up well short of reality. The movie demands a twist ending and gets one, but it is full of holes and omitted explanations. Additionally, a lifelong New Yorker kindly reminded this critic that cars don’t travel on Manhattan’s bridges at Daytona speeds during rush hour. “Anger Management,” however, is oblivious to such elements of reality. But then again, therapists don’t normally share beds with their patients (well, at least not ethically).
The real heart of the movie, though, is the acting. Nicholson turns in such an excellent performance that it is painful to see it go to naught. The utter insanity that Nicholson portrays with his face alone is reminiscent of his brilliant turn in “The Shining.”
And despite merely reprising his old, tired one-note character, Sandler should be commended for sharing the screen, a new trick for the otherwise narcissistic actor. Tomei rounds out the lead cast with tremendous charisma and sex appeal that plays off of both male leads well.
If the trio of stars doesn’t strike your fancy, the cameos are plentiful. Before the credits role, Woody Harrelson, John Turturro, Nancy Walls, Luis Guzman, Rudy Giuliani and Bobby Knight all steal screen time.
But perhaps the result of this oil-and-vinegar experiment is somewhat predictable. It was foolish to think that Elton John could raise the lyrics of “Stan” to the caliber of “Your Song.” It is equally foolish to suppose that Jack Nicholson could somehow turn “The Wedding Singer” into “Chinatown.”
