Adam Sandler has always been but a singular act, his comedic repertoire as threadbare as the patience of those compelled to endure his juvenile, grating, and lazily recycled brand of humor. The entirety of his career rests upon the portrayal of the same loud, emotionally stunted man-child, a role he has mastered in various iterations. Whether in Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, or Big Daddy, his characters languish in the character that seems natural to him of the obnoxious, whiny, overgrown toddler who inexplicably stumbles into success. His comedic arsenal is a cacophony of screams, tantrums, and the perplexing notion that incompetence is somehow amusing. The films he produces are inundated with the laziest of jokes, appealing to the lowest common denominator—fart gags, bodily functions (as exemplified by Click’s infamous diarrhea scene), and painfully unfunny vocal affectations (recall The Waterboy’s "Mama says."). Even in his more earnest endeavors, such as Uncut Gems, he cannot resist the siren call of his signature frenetic, irksome delivery.

Sandler’s tenure on Saturday Night Live often represented the pile of shit of any episode. His recurring characters—Opera Man (a shrill, unfunny mess), Cajun Man (a lazy ear-grating accent), and Canteen Boy (a creepy and predatory persona fitting his tribe well) - were exercises in endurance for the audience. His musical offerings, like The Chanukah Song, were grating at best.

In his recorded works—The Adam Sandler Tape and They’re All Gonna Laugh at You!, he indulged in some of the most juvenile and grotesque “humor” conceivable: impersonating a grandmother fixated on familial cock and balls or perpetrating deceptions about an audio tape of two gay guys fucking. These “jokes” evaded the realm of intelligence by a mile, instead embodying disgusting shock value masquerading as comedy. Sandler's later career unfolds as a procession of lazy, self-indulgent drivel, casting his obnoxious cronies (Rob Schneider, Kevin James, David Spade) in interchangeable roles. Films such as Grown Ups, Jack and Jill, and The Ridiculous 6 serve merely as paid holidays disguised as cinematic endeavors. His Netflix agreement unfolds as a ruse, a shameless cash grab wherein he churns out half-hearted "comedies" (like Hubie Halloween and Murder Mystery) with negligible effort. Hollywood may wish to paint Sandler as the "lovable goofball," yet his films exude an air of smug self-satisfaction. For decades, he has coasted on a wave of loud and foolish antics, forever anchored to a mentality that seems perpetually adolescent.

Recall, if you can, Sandler's SNL skit Schmitts Gay beer, a blatant exhibition of homosexuality that echoes themes from They’re All Gonna Laugh at You! and Toll Booth Willie. The Gap Girls showcased Sandler as a drag tranny, while Murder Mystery presents Jennifer Aniston as the “strong, independent woman,” contrasting with Sandler's portrayal of the bumbling fool. In Hubie Halloween, why do all the eccentric characters conform to LGBTQ+ or minority tropes? The answer lies in an all too common factor —> Because he is a Jew.