Set in the early 1990s, Sandy Wexler follows the life of its titular character as he manages and gets increasingly more obscure gigs for his strange array of clients. The roster includes a lousy stand-up comedian (Colin Quinn) who thinks he’s better than he is, a ventriloquist (Kevin James) who’s not the best or worst at what he does, and a stuntman (Nick Swardson) who can’t help but crash into birds every time he tries jumping over something.
We’re introduced to Sandy one morning when, while walking the streets of Los Angeles, he attempts to convince Arsenio Hall to be his new client. The attempt results in Hall declining, but the motto that Wexler uses in his pitch to him ends up laying groundwork the heart and soul of the entire film. “Agents are business,” Sandy says, “but managers are family.” It’s a mission statement he carries with him everyday, and it’s the reason he’s able to convince Courtney Clarke (Jennifer Hudson) to let him represent her, after he coincidentally hears her singing during an “Ugly Duckling” performance at an amusement park. It’s not long before Courtney’s talents start to shine through, and as her star power grows, so does the mutual attraction. Time and circumstance drive Courtney and Sandy apart throughout the film’s decade-long timespan.While no one would ever accuse Jennifer Hudson and Adam Sandler of being a hallmark on-screen couple, or that they have much chemistry either, Sandy Wexler shines the most when the two characters are together. So when the two spend a significant amount of the film’s second act away from each other, the film noticeably drags because of it. At 2 hours and 11 minutes, the film also feels far too self-congratulatory and unnecessary.
Predictably, Sandler winds up being the weakest part of the whole film. His annoyingly affected voice as Sandy is often hard to listen to, especially when the film tries to dig deep enough to pull at the heartstrings. But Sandler has proven before that he’s best on screen only when he’s playing a lovable but irritable goofball, which Paul Thomas Anderson wisely used to his advantage in Punch Drunk Love.
The funniest moment of the entire film comes early on when Sandler has to tap into that latter ability, as Sandy’s anger and irritation with an incompetent sound engineer builds and builds until he’s hitting him over the head and shouting loud enough for even Courtney to tell that something’s wrong from inside her sound booth. It’s possibly the funniest thing Sandler has done on screen in years, and feels like something more at home in his more classic movies, like Happy Gilmore or The Wedding Singer. It’s one of a handful of times during Sandy Wexler when it’s almost impossible not to break out into a grin because of the wholehearted absurdity of the whole thing.
More than anything else, however, Sandy Wexler more or less succeeds at what it wants to do because of how it lovingly portrays its lead character. I’d hesitate in calling Sandy Wexler a good or even competent movie, but at the very least, it has the makings of being one, which is a step back in the right direction for Sandler moving forwards.