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The Waterboy
1/2
Rated on a 4-star
scale
USA
Directed by Frank Coraci
Written by Tim Herlihy and Adam Sandler
CAST.....
Adam Sandler..... Bobby Boucher
Kathy Bates..... Mama Boucher
Henry Winkler..... Coach Klein
Fairuza Balk..... Vicki Vallencourt
Jerry Reed..... Red Beaulieau
Larry Gilliard Jr..... Derek Wallace
Blake Clark..... Farmer Fran
Peter Dante..... Gee Grenouille
I have the flu. I'm suffering frazzled lungs,
a sensitive chest, a murky sore throat, fits of sticky coughing, a blocked
nose and unbearable headaches. The last thing I needed this week was to see
"The Waterboy", a film so painfully annoying that it would
make those symptoms surface in a healthy person.
It follows the journey, or uninteresting plod,
of Bobby Boucher (Adam Sandler) from being one American Football team's waterboy
to another's star player. This bullied man-child is a 31-year-old bedwetting
virgin, hated by everyone except his overbearing momma.
Every plot point I've described is all that is
on offer, expected to carry the film until the finale -- an overlong, sentimental
chapter in which the waterboy wins an important game. You've seen this type
of ending before, in sports movies of all qualities, but I wouldn't call
this film's attempt at it a typical sports-movie climax. Directed with the
same shaky hand that guides the rest of the film, it doesn't even seem to
have a firm grasp on the sport.
I felt certain of detesting "The Waterboy" rather
quickly -- within the first three minutes, in fact, because Sandler appears
in that time. His 'performance' is the key to why "The Waterboy" is so
irritating. Although the movie seems to be unaware of it, the title figure
is schizophrenic -- unhealthy aspects of his character include hallucinations,
an obsession with water and a pestilent attachment to the aforementioned
mother -- played by Kathy Bates, whose surname is ironically appropriate
for this role. His voice, a bunged-up screechy whining stutter, is one of
an assortment of terrible noises he makes, including animal-like squealing,
panting and moaning. He has retarded expressions and gestures, topped off
with a pointlessly clumsy walk.
Even if Sandler wasn't so irritating, it would
be hard to feel sorry for him. The insults he gets are silly and phoney,
mere sound bites which don't seem like they're supposed to be taken seriously.
This fact, which proves that even the filmmakers have a detached attitude
to their waterboy, makes the latter part of the film, with its ridiculous
attempts at endearment, even more redundant.
This is not just an annoying experience, it's
an ugly and disturbing one. In its bizarre portrait of Louisiana folk, we're
shown what basically amounts to a lot of idiots grunting at each other. The
film does not contain a single laugh, look, movement or utterance that could
be described as normal, or even sane. Bates plays an inbred freak who eats
snakes and squirrels. Clint Howard, who has made a career out of beautiful
little supporting roles, is simply wasting his time here, as a stupid spectator
who makes wild reactions at every point in every game. It's even more sad
to see Henry Winkler turning up, as a dopey coach full of lousy pearls of
wisdom. I still like to think of him as a hero figure, a legend, and more
fundamentally, a good actor -- certainly not someone so hopeless and resigned
that he's accepting this part.
The moronic act of Sandler is also depressing,
since his last movie was "The Wedding Singer". It was a much better collaboration
with this film's writer and director, full of spirit and happy energy. I
laughed at its jokes. I moved to its music. What a staggering fall from that
success "The Waterboy" is. Its protagonist is told to "eat shit and die",
and I supported the request.
COPYRIGHT© 1999 Ian
Waldron-Mantgani
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