Written by Linda
December 02, 2008
In a year full of remakes of classic (and not-so-classic) films and TV shows, I wouldn't be surprised if The Longest Yard ends up standing proudly at the top of the heap. The heap of steaming crap, that is.
Now, I haven't seen the original film from 1974, but I know enough about the era that Burt Reynolds was in top form—a hubba-hubba hunk of hotness with sass and charisma, and a bit of a wounded soul that gave him depth. In Burt's shoes for the 2005 remake, we now have... Adam Sandler?!?! Now don't get me wrong. Adam Sandler was great in Punch-Drunk Love, a movie that showed that he can do more than throw hissy fits, act like a moron, and speak in weird super-annoying falsetto voices. But he ain't Burt Reynolds. Not even close. Adam is a guy, but Burt is a MAN. (The remake even tries to butch-up Sandler's sex-appeal with an absolute cringe-worthy cameo by Cloris Leachman as the prison warden's secretary who lusts after Sandler's Paul Crewe.) But let me back up a bit here.
Sandler plays Paul Crewe, a washed-up pro-football quarterback whose claim to infamy is that he "threw" a game, intentionally costing his team a victory. Though he was never officially busted for it, the association with the scandal cost him his pro-career. To paraphrase one of the characters, to intentionally lose a game?... well, that's downright un-American. Paul, now a drunk loser, fights with his uncharacteristically breasty girlfriend Courtney Cox, smashes her car (along with a handful of police cars) and gets sent to high security prison.
The sneering warden, Farmer Hoggett from Babe (James Cromwell), bullies Crewe into pulling together a football team of prisoners in order to play the prison guards as a sort of easy-win practice before prison-league play (who'da thunk?). But Crewe, finding the urge to bury past sins, feels inspired, along with his sidekick Caretaker (Chris Rock) and an old guy (Burt Reynolds), to actually win one for the Gipper... er... for the prisoners. Hooo-ah! You almost expect Mel Gibson to show up, galloping on a horse, face adorned with warpaint, hollering the inspirational speech of Braveheart, for the final sensational game.
What a load of stinky crap.
The Longest Yard is a schizophrenic film. Unsure if it is a comedy or drama, it painfully tries to balance the two. Juvenile and stale homosexual jokes, race jokes, strong-man-with-tiny-brain jokes, and incompetent athlete jokes are awkwardly balanced with scenes of tight-lipped regret over failures, beatings taken, reminiscings about saintly mothers, mullings over lost chances, and even an unexpected death, replete with appropriate swelling violin soundtrack. Thing is, neither the comedy nor the drama works.
Except for a foodfight and some cruel beatings by the sadistic prison guards, you'd think prison was a piece of cake from this movie. Prisoners seem to wander around whenever they want, unlocking off-limits rooms with ease, taking home movies of each other, and ordering boxes of custom-made uniforms. Not only that, the prisoners are as cuddly as teddy bears, despite the menacing facial scars or bulging biceps. You never find out what these men are in for. For all we know they are murderers or rapists or, worst of all, Martha Stewart's stock broker. But, shucks, the game of football brings out the best in everyone, and makes them into good guys! You see, in this world, the guards are the REAL meanies!
The only redeeming quality of The Longest Yard is the relationship between Adam Sandler's Crewe and Chris Rock's Caretaker. Despite the lame screenplay and lack of character development, Sandler and Rock's chemistry shines through. They have an easy, affectionate relationship onscreen, and you'd like to actually think that these two cardboard characters are actually friends. But I didn't care enough. When one of the characters unexpectedly leaves the film, I was actually relieved. I knew that taking out one of the major stars meant that the movie had to be wrapping up soon... and, thank god, it did.
