Click Reviews

An uneasy mix of frat-boy yucks and Twilight Zone-style science-fiction concocted by BRUCE ALMIGHTY's Steve Koren and Mark O'Keefe, this tale of a man and a magical universal remote tries to have its fart gags and moralize, too. There are never enough hours in the day for architect Michael Newman (Adam Sandler), who's trapped in a head-splitting vise of fear and guilt — fear that if he doesn't work 24/7, he'll never get ahead, and guilt that there's never enough time left for his wife, Donna (Kate Beckinsale), adorable kids (Joseph Castanon, Tatum McCann) and loving parents (Julie Kavner, Henry Winkler). Michael's dilemma comes to a head over July 4th weekend, when he cancels a family camping trip because his oily boss, Mr. Ammer (David Hasselhoff), promises a promotion if he works. Nerves frayed by the tangle of remote controls cluttering his den, Michael stops by Bed, Bath and Beyond and gets a lesson in answered prayers: An odd fellow named Morty (Christopher Walken) hands over a sleek prototype remote that allows him to fast-forward past all life's unpleasantness. Michael can go straight from the start of an argument with Donna to the makeup sex, and bypass the drudgery of actually working in favor of subsequent accolades. He can also mute the family dog, revisit the past (not an interactive feature), add zest to a boring sexual-harassment seminar by changing the language preference (Spanish — it sounds funny) and activate commentary by James Earl Jones. Naturally, it's too good to be true: As the remote learns Michael's premises, it zips more quickly through his life, glossing over the everyday events that justify making the journey from cradle to grave worthwhile. How affecting you find this lesson depends on which buttons the film pushes (so to speak): The trouble is that the person sobbing at the IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE-inspired sequences (in which Michael sees a future in which he's largely absent from the lives of his grown children, aging parents and estranged wife) is probably not the person howling at the sight of a dog vigorously humping a plush toy duck. Sandler pulls off a couple of good laughs, none involving the Fat Bastard suit his future self wears in penance for too many late-night Twinkies. Ultimately, you have to ask yourself how willing you are to be put through the emotional wringer by a slob comedy, or preached to about personal priorities by Hollywood multi-millionaires.