The Films of 2025: Happy Gilmore 2 (dir by Kyle Newacheck)


I love 1996’s Happy Gilmore and, over the past few months, I have very much been looking forward to the release of the long-delayed sequel, Happy Gilmore 2.  Still, I was a bit concerned when I opened the film on Netflix and discovered that the sequel had a nearly two-hour running time.  (The original clocked in at an efficient and fast-paced 90 minutes.)  Comedy is all about timing and, in general, shorter is funnier.  I know that Judd Apatow and Adam McKay might disagree with me on that but let’s be honest.  For all of the acclaim that it was met with, when was the last time you actually felt any desire to rewatch The King of Staten Island?  For that matter, if you have to pick between Anchorman or Anchorman 2, which are you going to pick?  The 90 minute original or the sequel that takes more than two hours to tell essentially the same story?

Having now watched the film, I can say that Happy Gilmore 2 does run a bit too long.  There are a few sequences that could have been trimmed without hurting the film.  I can also say that I thoroughly enjoyed the film.  I laughed more often than not.  It’s a funny film but it’s also a surprisingly touching one.

Taking place 29 years after the first film, Happy Gilmore 2 features an older and slightly more mature Happy.  It also features an older and slightly more mature Adam Sandler and, to its credit, the film acknowledges that.  It doesn’t try to convince us that Sandler and Gilmore are still the young hell-raisers that they once were.  (Happy’s Happy Place has changed considerably.)  I’ve often written that there are two Adam Sandlers.  There’s the youngish Sandler who made silly and often stupid films where he basically just hung out with his friends and didn’t seem to put much effort into anything.  That’s the Sandler who has won multiple Razzie awards.  And then there’s the older and wiser Adam Sandler, the sad-eyed character actor who gives sensitive performances as world-weary characters.  This is the Adam Sandler who seems to be overdue for an Oscar nomination.  If an alien came to Earth and only watched Adam Sandler’s serious films, they would probably think he was one our most-honored actors.  While Happy Gilmore 2 is definitely a comedy, it still features quite a bit more of the serious Sandler than I was expecting.

At the start of the movie, Happy is not in a happy place.  His grandmother has passed away.  His wife, Virginia, was killed by an errant tee shot.  He has four rambunctious sons and a daughter, Vienna (played by Sunny Sandler, who was so good in You Are So Not Invited To My Bat Mitzvah).  After Virginia’s death, Happy gave up golf.  He lost his money.  He lost his grandmother’s house.  Now, he’s working in a grocery store and he’s an almost forgotten figure.  He’s also an alcoholic, keeping bottles of liquor hidden around the house.  (A tiny liquor bottle is hidden in the cuckoo clock.)  And while this film is certainly not Uncut Gems or even The Meyerowitz Stories, Sandler still does a good job of capturing the reality of Happy’s depression.  There’s a true sense of melancholy running through the film’s first hour, as Happy returns to golf to try to make enough money to pay for Vienna to attend a prestigious dance academy.  The second hour, in which Happy leads a team of pro golfers against a team of “extreme” athletes is far more goofier but Happy’s love for his family is a theme that runs through the entire film.

Aging is the other theme that runs through the film.   Forced to play with three younger players (including Eric Andre and Margaret Qualley) at a local golf course, the rusty Happy grimaces when he hears one of them say, “Is he trying to do the Happy Gilmore swing?”  When Happy rejoins the PGA, he discovers that all of the younger players now hit the ball as hard as he used to.  An obnoxious tech bro (Benny Safdie) wants to start a new, extreme golf league, one that will “continue the revolution” that Happy started.  Happy finds himself defending traditional golf and it’s an acknowledgement that both Gilmore and Adam Sandler have grown up and have come to appreciate that not everything needs to change.  Sometimes, you just want to play a nice round of golf on a pretty course without having to deal with the sensory overload of the 2020s.

It’s a funny movie.  Even when he’s playing it straight, Sandler still knows how to deliver a funny line.  Ben Stiller returns as Hal L., who is now an addiction recovery specialist.  (His techniques include ordering people to wash his car.)  Christopher McDonald also returns as Shooter McGavin, having escaped from a mental asylum and now fighting, alongside Happy, to save the game that they both love.  As someone who always felt that Shooter kind of had every right to be upset during the first film, I was happy to see him get a bit of redemption.  Several professional golfers appear as themselves.  A running joke about Scottie Scheffler getting arrested and then forcing all of his cellmates to watch golf made me laugh a lot more than I was expecting it too.

The sequel is full of shout-outs to the first film.  A fight in a cemetery reveals that everyone who died during and after the first film just happens to have a gravestone and it was actually kind of a nice tribute.  (Even the “Get Me Out Of Here” Lady gets a headstone.)  It’s a sequel that truly appreciates and values the legacy and the fans of the first film.  It’s also a sequel that seems to truly love the game of golf, which is not necessarily something that could be said about the first film.

Happy Gilmore 2 is a worthy sequel, even if it is a bit long.  It made me laugh but, at the same time, it was hard not to be touched by the obvious love that Happy had for his family and that they had for him.  (It didn’t hurt that Happy’s daughter was played by Sandler’s daughter.)  In the first film, Happy played golf for his grandmother.  In the second film, he returns to the game for his daughter.  It’s all about family, as Adam Sandler’s unexpectedly heartfelt performance makes clear.

The Players Should Never Be a Major


Rickie Fowler’s performance in the fourth round of The 2015 Players Championship today was definitely one for the ages. He shot six under on the final six holes and beat out Sergio Garcia and Kevin Kisner in a playoff, sealing the deal with a beautiful shot off the tee and a short putt on the most iconic hole on the PGA tour: the 17th at TPC Sawgrass. The sports commentators immediately started to speculate whether this might be the performance that finally launched The Players into Major Championship status, and I cringed.

The obvious argument against a fifth major is that it would dilute the significance of the other four. Four is a sort of magic number long accepted in individual sports as the amount of events that are allowed to matter most. Five would mean that no one Major Championship is as important as a Grand Slam tournament in tennis. Five would make career grand slams even more difficult to obtain. Five would forever taint the man who finally breaks Jack’s 18.

But besides that, being golf’s fifth best tournament is part of what makes The Players special. Sports history is important in golf. You get a vision in your head of how you want that history to unfold, and it gives you an emotional connection to how individual players perform. I want to see Tiger get his game back. I want to see Phil and Rory thrive. I want to see Lee Westwood and Henrik Stenson claim that elusive first major before their careers dwindle to a close. I get a sense of satisfaction watching Jim Furyk and knowing that he did pull it off. Everything ties back to those four majors. Once you win, you’re in the club of legends. I mean, no one is ever going to suggest that Shaun Micheel had a better career than Colin Montgomerie, but his feels more complete in a sense.

And that’s where The Players comes in. It’s the tournament that is almost a major. It is almost complete, but something is missing. It needs more, and the right names in the winners’ circle give it more… but never quite enough. If the majors make legends, legends make The Players. It’s one of the only tournaments where the event and the player can both benefit from each other’s prestige.

Saturday night, I had all but lost interest. In terms of seeing the tournament thrive, the top 10 was a ghost town. I felt a distant glimmer of hope that Sergio Garcia could pull something off (he nearly did). Otherwise, uh, go Bill Haas I guess. Then, Rickie Fowler surged up the leaderboard in the ultimate aura of almost. A nearly major champion who should have five or six wins on tour, his biggest career highlight was his streak of not quite winning scores in majors in 2014. He won the almost major championship in style, proving that he’s just as good as we didn’t quite believe he was. And he beat Kevin Kisner, a guy most of us were rooting against because this was the last tournament we wanted a no-name to win.

Everything about the 2015 Players Championship felt really good. A tournament in eternal need of more big name winners got one. A big name in need of career highlights got one. A guy with no highlights to speak of is now on our radar without having ultimately spoiled our fun. And Fowler’s performance was thrilling to watch besides all that. It’s no wonder the announcers were all talking Major Championship status, but it is exactly why The Players needs to stay right where it is. This year serves once again to show how well The Players fulfills its role as a “to be continued” event leading into the U.S. Open. If we made them equals, we might diminish them both.