In Uncut Gems, Adam Sandler plays a bumbling gambling addict who repeatedly acts against his own best interest. This could be seen as a metaphor for the actor’s career over the last twenty years. In 2002, Sandler starred in Paul Thomas Anderson’s underrated gem, Punch-Drunk Love, a film that showed the lovable SNL buffoon could indeed act when properly directed to do so. The door had been opened, but, for some reason, Sandler back-peddled into making more idiotic comedies. Now, with Uncut Gems, we’re finally seeing the path I wish Sandler’s career had taken after his wonderful dramatic debut, oh so long ago.
Everyone goes nuts when a comedic actor gets serious. Sometimes I do too. If you’re known for comedy, it stands to reason that eventually a casting director will talk you into taking a dramatic role. This sort of repackaging doesn’t always work, but when it does, a whole new layer of subconscious baggage can be added to the viewing experience. Everyone’s talking about Adam Sandler’s performance in Uncut Gems – and they should be, it’s terrific – but if you’re familiar with his previous output, it’s oddly not far removed from some of his most famous characters.
Billy Madison is a fool. Happy Gilmore is a fool. Howard Ratner – his drain-swirling, diamond dealing, degenerate gambler in Uncut Gems – is also a fool. Sandler’s delivery is very close to the same mumbling schlub that made him famous in the ‘90s, but now the world he inhabits has consequences that come with his actions. This distinction is monumental. Howard continuously walks a high-tension wire, dangling dangerously just out of reach from violence, ruin, or worse. He gambles money that isn’t his on increasingly implausible long-shot bets while obsessing over a rare gem from Ethiopia. He puts all his eggs into one basket, then overturns that basket into a smaller one while hoping not too many of the eggs break.
The Safdie Brothers ramp up the intensity from the start and offer very little relief until the credits roll. Even moments that might be sane and calm in other films (a family Passover dinner, for example) are wound up tight as a drum. In addition, an overarching pall of spiritualism, mysticism, and superstition blankets Howard’s unbroken string of foul-ups, indicating the possibility of fate or a divine plan – or that the universe doesn’t give a shit and you’re on your own. Whatever the case may be, the charged atmosphere and unearthly pops of color will have your head swimming in the best ways possible.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.