As I mentioned in Monday’s comic, Cami and I went to The Longest Yard on Friday and were thoroughly underwhelmed. What can I say? As a former member of The Cult of Sander, Cami drags me to all these things – even when it involves football.

I should have known we were in trouble when three men in their 40’s – clearly off their leash and outside of their wives supervision – tumbled into the theater, chattering like monkey and sitting right behind us.

I envisioned them as old fraternity brothers who were fans of the 1974 Burt Reynolds original, looking to capture a little nostalgia and relive the glory days.

If ∗I∗ was disapointed by this piece of tripe, imagine how THOSE guys felt!

The original movie had a great “middle-finger-in-the-face-of-authority” vibe in the time of Nixon-era politics. It spoke with a mischievous grin toward the roles of the jailed and the jailer. At the risk of making a political statement, there is a segment of the country that harbors similar animosities toward the current administration and it’s policies. Or at least one can draw similar parallels. The remake totally misses it’s opportunity to reflect this undercurrent and becomes totally toothless in the process.

Adam Sandler – doughy and laconic, as usual – looks nothing like a hard-nosed former NFL quarterback. He barely looks capable of stealing a Snickers bar, let alone stand accused of a felony on the scale of point-shaving.

Sandler tries to bring his trademark goofy charm to the role and it’s totally the wrong fit. If Sandler were REALLY in a prison as tough as the movie would lead us to believe, inmates would start trading him for cigarettes before he’s ever introduced to his cell.

When the success of the movie is held together by the illusion that the lead character is smart, tough and dangerous – Adam Sandler is not the man to call.

Chris Rock is the other big name in the picture, but he brings very little to his role as Caretaker. Essentially, he spouts a bunch of recycled jokes from his stand-up routine. Typical commentaries about race that are far too glib for the bleak environment he’s supposed to be inhabiting. How can anyone be THIS HAPPY to be in prison?

The rest of the cast is rounded out by a small army of former athletes. There are some ex-NFL players like Brian Bosworth and Bill Romanowski, but most of the speaking roles are given to ex-“professional” wrestles like Kevin Nash, Bill Goldberg and “Stone Cold” Steve Austin. I guess whatever it takes to rope in the redneck demographic.

When the original used the idea of casting athletes, their raw presence and limited acting skills actually lent them credibility as prison inmates. By giving most of the dialogue to former pro wrestlers, you’re inviting hammy over-acting that is totally distracting. For example, like when the inmates switch out Kevin Nash’s steroids for estrogen pills and he acts like a hyperventilating female stereotype for the last 20 minutes of the film.

There are a few actors with some genuine talent in the film, but are totally wasted. Cloris Leachman’s comedic timing is completely squandered as she’s forced to play an undersexed septuagenarian receptionist. We don’t spend enough time with William Fichtner’s Captain Knauer to recognize him as a real threat. And James Cromwell’s Warden Hazen is given so little to do, he comes off looking like a buffoon rather than a worth villain.

Some casting choices are totally pointless. Rapper Nelly is thrown in the mix because… y’know! He’s a rapper! And kids love rappers! Oh, does he have a chart-topping hit on the soundtrack as well? Get that man some cleats!

Of course the star of the original picture, Burt Reynolds, is given a perfunctory role as “the grizzled old vet” in a hollow gesture meant to show respect to 1974 classic. Instead, Reynolds comes off more like he’s keeping watch to make sure Sandler doesn’t royaly screw up one of his trademark roles. Although his performance is one of the least grating, mission failed, Burt. Mission failed.

What is most annoying about the film is its complete disinterest in its setting. This is a Texas prison, people. Shouldn’t life be somewhat… I dunno, OPPRESSIVE?!

Aside from a brief montage of Sandler sweating it out in a tin hot box, the location is barely menacing and the guards little more than petty annoyances – not real physical threats. In fact, it seems like the prisoners pretty much have the run of the joint. There isn’t a scene where there aren’t at least 3 dozen extras milling around in the yard. Do these guys spend any time in their cells? Why is there this compulsory need to “get even with the guards” when it seems like the inmates get by pretty easy. Belive me – if you’re biggest inconvienance is having “Stone Cold” Steve Austin tip over a couple of books you’re trying to put away in the prision library, then prisonlife isn’t that bad. I’m surprised there aren’t physical therapists on staff for the prisoners after their scrimmages!

Even though the original was layered and engrossing, somehow the remake barely has enough content to pad an average-length sitcom. And although I’m aware the conclusion of the original was a 45 minute football game, things feel ponderously slow when they try to do the same thing here.

Game play is stretched out when director Peter Segal cuts away to Rob Schneider shouting his signature catchphrase “Yuuuu can doooo eeet!” which has become the tradition in Sandler films you most look forward to loathing.

There’s also a little too much leering attention given to Tracy Morgan and his squad of transvestite cheerleaders. The joke is kinda funny once, but why does Segal keep cutting back to them in between plays like they’re REAL cheerleaders? Quite honestly, I don’t need to see Tracy Morgan in hot pants any longer than two seconds maximum.

The Longest Yard is a terrible, TERRIBLE movie. Don’t waste your eight bucks on this one. Do yourself a favor and rent the original. While you’re at it, you might as well rent North Dallas Forty. You’ll get five times the entertainment value for the same amount of money.