Adam Sandler brought some great silliness to Saturday Night Live in the ’90s, such as his Hanukkah song and ode to lunch ladies. For the most part, I haven’t kept up with his movies—those generally weren’t my sort of humor.
But while I wasn’t looking, Sandler went and grew up. To a point, anyway. He hasn’t abandoned his inner child or his sense of ridiculous comedy, but life experience has added a bit of depth to his repertoire, as demonstrated in the recent animated family musical Leo.
Sandler wrote the Netflix movie along with Robert Smigel and Paul Sado, and he voices the main character, the titular 74-year-old lizard who fears he’s wasted his life, having spent most of it as a classroom pet. (Minor spoilers ahead to discuss the concept.)
Expecting to die at 75, Leo wishes to live out the remainder of his time in the Florida Everglades and catch up on all the experiences he’s missed out on. Opportunity arrives when the teacher goes on maternity leave and a strict, mean, extremely old-school substitute replaces her. Ms. Malkin (Cecily Strong) requires the fifth-grade students to take turns bringing one of the classroom pets home each weekend. The kids hate the idea at first, but Leo sees this as the perfect opportunity to escape.
During his first escape attempt, Leo makes the mistake of talking out loud. We’ve seen him chatting with his terrarium-mate Squirtle (Bill Burr) and other classroom pets, but it turns out they’re not communicating in some magical, incomprehensible animal language. No, they’re literally speaking English out loud. They’re not supposed to let people know they can do that.
Talking to each child individually, Leo winds up helping them with their respective problems. He helps one chatterbox girl learn how not to dominate every conversation. He helps a boy break up with a drone that his overprotective parents have programmed to hover over his every move. He helps another girl realize that she shouldn’t act as entitled as her parents. And so on.
As the children implement Leo’s advice, they become better friends with each other, they perform better at school, and they’re generally happier. The advice isn’t anything profound—wisdom doesn’t have to be deep—but it is what each kid needs to hear.
Leo has a conventional, formulaic structure, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The formula is merely a sturdy skeleton on which to hang something distinctive—in this case, an aging classroom pet who becomes a much-needed confidante for students and, in doing so, discovers what he needs too.
It very much represents an older Adam Sandler. The juvenile jokes and random absurdity remain in the mix, such as hyperactive kindergarteners who are animated in a separate and overly cartoonish style, sort of like South Park’s Canadians, because why not? But the script sincerely empathizes with the struggles of young adolescents. There is indeed real heart beneath it all. The little bit of anarchy combines with the heart to prevent Leo from feeling like yet another paint-by-numbers corporate product.
The songs are almost superfluous. There’s no need to buy the soundtrack, but the musical numbers work well in the context of the movie.
Leo is full of little life lessons, as well as reminders for the grown-ups. Oddly enough for a family movie, it seems to have the most to say about the adults—the children’s problems often stem from their parents. None of the parents are evil, but they’re all flawed to varying extents (Jason Alexander does a great job voicing the sort of entitled parent who’s a nightmare for educators everywhere). Those flaws infect the kids with all sorts of insecurities and neuroses.
The mean substitute teacher isn’t evil either, but she at times acts close to it. The weight of decades of failure brings her to a breaking point, which she takes out on the kids and then on Leo. The generational conflict creates some amusing visual gags, such as the kids lugging massive back-breaking textbooks in their backpacks because the sub won’t let them use computers. Ultimately, though, Ms. Malkin is a redeemable human being who simply needs to learn some lessons too. And better late than never.
This is perhaps the movie’s most important message. That obnoxious person who’s driving you up the wall? They’ve got their own problems. Sometimes, they just need to talk to someone who understands, and that can go a long way toward helping them grow up. People may end up surprising us.
Being a family man suits Adam Sandler.