Click Frank Coraci
Published Jul 01, 2006Words fail to describe the sheer awfulness of the thing called Click, a film which manages to be monstrously hateful above and beyond its technical ineptitude.
Adam Sandler stars as a harried architect who works too hard and cant seem to find time for his family. Looking for a way out, he stumbles upon inventor Morty (Christopher Walken) and a universal remote that controls how much of the outside distractions he has to endure. But though he has great fun fast-forwarding through arguments and family dinners, the remote starts to remember his settings meaning he starts missing the important parts of his life.
Barely 15 minutes elapse before women, Arabs and Southeast Asians are defamed, and that sets the tone. Most of the film is spent trying to redeem the detestable lout who perpetrates such hate, but by the climax were ready to throw him back into the pit. Those women, by the way, are either simple sex objects (good if its your wife; bad if its your daughter) or hysterical flibbertigibbets to be dealt manly insults. God help you if youre in Kate Beckinsales shoes, as shes asked to wear nothing but tiny short-short pyjamas through most of her role as Sandlers wife.
The film isnt even creative in its dealing of cruelty. Its just a bunch of thugs with baseball bats beating up whatever easy target wanders into their gaze; not even the obligatory cheesy turn by David Hasselhoff can save what is an exercise in point and shoot in both senses of the term. Ugly, graceless, and without mercy, its is a front-runner for the worst movie of the year. (Sony)