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It's not adults who are going to love Mr. Deeds but
the younger, impossibly immature versions of ourselves we
have hidden way below our ironic, postmodern surface. Yes,
our hidden self the one that secretly loves Billy Madison,
turns to mush over The Wedding Singer and finds Little
Nicky to be a devilishly good time (all while our
visible persona rolls its eyes and denounces those films as
immature drivel) will have nothing but a good time at Adam
Sandler's gagfest comedy Mr. Deeds. And
why shouldn't we, really? In a summer that has delivered such
comic bombs as Scooby Doo and Van Wilder, it's
far from shameful to revel in the unapologetic, yet gut-bustingly
skillful absurdity Sandler consistently brings to the silver
screen.
The film based on a short story by Clarence Budington Kelland
and a variation on the 1936 Frank Capra classic Mr. Deeds
Goes to Town tells the story of Longfellow Deeds (Sandler),
a small-town New Hampshire man who inherits $40 billion upon
the death of his media mogul uncle. Informed of his inheritance
by his uncle's super-shady right-hand man, Chuck Cedar (Peter
Gallagher), Deeds makes his way to New York City and reluctantly
basks in his late uncle's aristocratic lifestyle.
The media is in a frenzy to find out the identity of the
mysterious heir, as well as dig up a little dirt on him. An
especially sleazy TV tabloid called Inside Access zealously
tries to get the scoop, and enlists its sexy producer Babe
Bennet (Winona Ryder) to pose as a virginal school
nurse in an attempt to get closer to Deeds. Adopting the name
Pam Dawson, Bennet, along with her perm-donning co-worker
Marty (Allen Covert), fakes her own mugging to meet
the monetarily endowed scion. Hidden camera in tow, Bennet
manages to catch Deeds at his worst, though mostly best
footage that Inside Access ultimately edits to make
Deeds look like a violent, aggressive fool.
If you can't see where all of this is headed, than you're
as blind as Crazy Eyes (a character played by Steve Buscemi,
in his required Sandler-movie cameo). Deeds brings out Bennet's
good side, and the poor girl can't help but fall for his goofy
charm, a romance that inevitably hits the skids once her scheme
is exposed. But don't count Deeds out for long; after all,
I doubt we'll ever see the day when Adam Sandler doesn't get
the girl.
The plot of Mr. Deeds is pretty standard, your average
fish-out-of-water-meets-girl-of-his-dreams story, but in typical
Sandler-style, eccentricities abounds. Deeds is an aspiring
greeting card author whose poems generally range from rhythmically
inept to downright offensive; his right foot was the victim
of disgustingly awful frostbite; and his friends consist of
an obese stoner, the aforementioned Crazy Eyes and a remarkably
sneaky butler (John Turturro). Throw in some purposefully
sappy, albeit comically tinged, speeches (much in the vein
of Big Daddy's courtroom custody battle), and you've
got Sandler at his goofball finest.
This isn't to say that some of the jokes aren't painfully
bad the first 20 minutes certainly shoulders its fair share
but most of them assault the funny bone with guffaw-inspiring
accuracy (a scene involving Deeds' rescue of seven cats is
an especially good example). The film also does a nice job
of establishing a romantic vibe between Sandler and Ryder,
although Ryder strays awfully close to superfluousness not
surprising considering most of the women in Sandler's movies
exist solely to melt in the face of his slacker charisma.
While not quite as heartfelt as The Wedding Singer,
or as consistently hilarious as Happy Gilmore, Mr.
Deeds does work as an example of what Sandler does best:
allowing audiences to abandon their cynicism and gleefully
absorb 90 minutes of pure silliness.
— Erin Steele
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