Adam Sandler has so often proven his hack abilities in the eye of comedy. It’s a true shame, as films like Punch-Drunk Love and Uncut Gems have more than showcased his abilities to fit within a more nuanced area of comedic talents. Netflix’s Leo isn’t really an appropriate comparison: it’s for children after all. But this fact needs to brought up because of how frustratingly inconsistent Sandler is when it comes to making full use of his natural abilities for laughter.
Sandler has had a sparse history with animation. The awful Hanukkah movie Eight Crazy Nights is like a personal hell of terrible attempts at shock humour within a more adult-oriented animated film. The Hotel Transylvania films became progressively worse, with Sandler’s performance at least keeping the films afloat. So this latest attempt, which invokes the more childlike appeal of those latter films, had a hard-to-predict quality to it. Enter the Happy Madison company logo, which gave use Sandler’s many terrible adult comedies, and any enthusiasm I may have had has just been destroyed.
Is there any hope for this film to be anything more than mindless drivel? You might be surprised to learn that it wasn’t all awful. With three directors taking the helm, Robert Marianetti, Robert Smigel and David Wachtenheim, and Adam Sandler being one of the writers, this is Leo.
The mundane title refers to our lead protagonist, Leo (Adam Sandler), a seventy-four year-old lizard who lives within a little case inside of a classroom with his friend Squirtle (Bill Burr, yes that’s the character’s real name). Leo comes to suffer from an existential crisis once he learns that lizards of his species die when they reach seventy-five. With panic in his heart, he finds hope in the class’s substitute teacher, Miss Malkin (Cecily Strong), a stern and heartless teacher who instructs the various kids to look after one of the pets.
Leo devises a plan to escape into the wild from whichever kid gets to take him with them, so he can live the life he missed out on. After one very talkative kid takes him back and he almost escapes, the child learns that Leo-and all animals by that logic-can talk (a sudden rule that makes little sense). Convincing her that he can only talk to her, he helps solve her feelings of loneliness. Suddenly, Leo realises he has a purpose in helping all of these kids in the class, instilling his decades of wisdom on them, much to the jealousy of Squirtle, who wants his own chance in the spotlight.
Having convinced all of these children that he can only speak to each individual one, the truth has to slip out at some point, right? You know the answer already.
We should quickly address the common defence for a family film like this: it’s a kid’s movie. It doesn’t need critiquing. Sure, animated films aimed at younger audiences don’t need to be the deepest or densest pieces of art, but to use such a deflective statement is to excuse the genuinely terrible, patronising jokes and concepts that make up this film.
There is a simple likability to the concept. Children will always struggle to fit in and often can’t notice their own flaws. Something to appreciate is how many kids are given the time to shine. It tackles anxieties such as overtalkativeness, popularity, being coddled and many other different things. Even children dealing with divorced parents and puberty-related insecurities. For young children, there’s a lot they could relate to that we jaded adults take for granted. As simple as all this is, it’s heartful and well-intended.
Look further into the actual plot and you get one of the most serviceable stories to hit an animated film. Too reliant on its repetitive formula and Jiminy Cricket-esque lead, you begin to recognise many formulaic beats. Having a protagonist that is riding the high of being seen as this life-changing figure and lying to each kid about being the only one who he talks to, you know exactly where this will lead. Even the grouchy villain, who does manage to get a few hearty laughs, has a rather predictable fate. This wouldn’t matter so much if I hadn’t felt there were better example of how this formula can be done. Films like Pinocchio or Inside Out teach lessons like this on a far smarter and more mature level.
I took issue with Squirtle’s presence. Bill Burr does a good job of injecting much of his own personality-more toned down for children of course-into this character. But he has little to do. Adam Sandler is doing that ‘whacky’ voice work he likes to digest into his mentally-inept characters from earlier Happy Madison movies, which went from grating to just mild annoyance. These two don’t really work very well off each other, and having Burr give it his all just makes Sandler pale in comparison. At worst, they’re non-presences.
I don’t wish to sell this film completely short. Its sense of humour fluctuates, but it’s generally very funny. I got a few good belly-laughs at certain scenes, and the little face spasm really helped accentuate the ridiculousness of some of these set pieces. The designs and chaotic energy of the kindergarteners never failed to leave me in stitches. They don’t really match up with the designs of the other humans, but I really couldn’t care less. But for every great joke is a lowest-common denominator pee, poop or puke joke; there’s far too many than what is deserved. There’s also too heavy a reliance on references, and ones that are base-level at that. This whole film is full of pop culture references and direct mentions. It’s almost like watching one of those big IP crossovers like Ready Player One.
The inequality of the humour is very similar to that of the animation. It’s understandable that, with a small budget, it was never going to look as comparable to a Disney or Pixar film, but boy, does it look rough. Leo and Squirtle look fine, but the humans-barring the kindergarteners-look very bland. There’s no personality brimming from those cold, mannequin-like faces. Sometimes, the animation dips into other styles. One particular case saw a cut-out-paper look that made me wish the entire film was done in this style. With animated films following in that more stylised footsteps taken by Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse, why wouldn’t you try to do something like that?
This film also has a serious problem with musical numbers. I’m not complaining about them being there, just that every single one is terrible. With a completely half-hearted score and awful tone-deaf singing, you would hope that the lyrics could make up for it. Naturally, this part suffers as well. This has to be some of the laziest song-writing I’ve heard in a children’s film, lacking even the most basic of catchy melodies to at least keep the mind turning back to some sort of jaunty tune. This is the kind of music that infant shows on Cbeebies would be ashamed to have.
This film is so painfully average I almost regret writing about it. Films like this often offer very little in the way of further discussion. It stands out as one of the best films to come from Happy Madison, but that’s an incredibly low bar to reach.
It has its moments of hilarity and provides a good, albeit simple, message about learning to do things for others instead of always putting yourself first. But otherwise, it’s a very a passable film not worth yours or your child’s time. If you enjoy jokes about piss, puke and a very unsubtle penis joke, then do I have the film for you!
Written review by Conor Johnson.