Click is the latest Adam Sandler vehicle and like most of his films, it's sure to make a crap-load of money. Too bad it's not all that good. Which isn't to suggest that it's "Little Nicky-bad," there's no doubt it has it's moments (the film's funniest joke is made at the expense of tic tacs), but overall - it never really finds it's comic-footing. Click is further undermined by an old school twist - one that I picked up on in the first ten minutes. If you ask me, it's something of a cop-out and a cheap shot - particularly when you take into consideration how the movie ends.

In Click, Sandler plays Michael Newman, a celebrated architect on the fast track to success. He has a gorgeous wife (played by the stunning Kate Beckinsale) and two adorable children, but like most people in his situation, he begins to find it increasingly challenging to juggle his professional ambitions with his responsibilities at home.

One evening, while trying to view a video-taped architecture seminar, Michael becomes frustrated when he can't find the right remote for all his television gadgetry. In a fit of aggravation he heads over to his local Bed, Bath and Beyond hoping to find the ultimate universal remote. After wandering into the "Beyond" department, he meets the helpful, but somewhat peculiar Morty (played by the endlessly eccentric Christopher Walken), a nutty sales rep with a barrage of fascinating gizmos, one of which just happens to be a universal remote.

Michael takes the remote without thinking twice about it, but when he returns to his home, it's not long before he discovers that this impressive handful of technology is capable of remote controlling things well "beyond" the television.

As you might expect from the many snippets that you've no doubt seen in it's TV ads and trailers, Click is an awfully gimmicky film. Sandler spends much of the film fast-forwarding through the unpleasantries of life - skipping right to the fun and exciting stuff. All, of course, courtesy of his newest and most cherished friend his magical remote. As handy and helpful as his newfound abilities certainly are, it isn't long before he starts fo feel the slightest twinges of regret as he realizes that he's missing-out on the real stuff of life. As I said - gimmicky.

Through the rewinding and fast forwarding, we get glimpses of the selfish Sandler, the overweight Sandler (Rick Baker's make up effects are sensational by the way), as well as the senior citizen Sandler. Click's tone is hardly original. In fact the pacing and style smack more of a Jim Carrey vehicle - Bruce Almighty and Liar Liar, in particular. As far as the narrative is concerned, it certainly borrows most obviously from Scrooge (you could consider it a re-imagining of A Christmas Carol) with bold nods to It's A Wonderful Life and a dash of the Wizard of Oz thrown in for good measure.

Sandler gets the job done, I suppose. Thanks to his collaborations with P.T. Anderson (Punch Drunk Love) and James L. Brooks (Spanglish), he's certainly improved as a dramatic actor, but the material here is decidedly juvenile and never rises above it's vehicle restrictions. As a result the moments that call for Sandler to wax emotional or dramatic don't resonate with any kind of authenticity. Still, there's some quite likable physical schtick. In particular I loved a bit in which an irritated Sandler scales a chain-link fence at lightning quick speed in an attempt to take out a bunch of slackers who try to get the better of him. Ultimately though, the movie never finds the right balance between the wacky and somewhat crude comedy it is and the charming, heart-warmer it aspires to play as in the end.

Christopher Walken is great fun (although I could have done without the reveal of his true identity), but then he always is. I could stare at Kate Beckinsale for hours, but sadly, she's saddled with a rather thankless role here. The wit that she so often puts on display on late night talk shows is lost on this cardboard character. Henry Winkler and Julie Kavner are sweet as Michael's loving parents. Jennifer Coolidge is a riot in a bit part as Kate Beckinsale's dysfunctional sister. David Hasselhoff is perfectly over-the-top as Michael's boss. Sean Astin is underused as a swim coach but seeing him prance around in a speedo is worth the price of admission alone.

Click was directed by Sandler collaborator Frank Coraci, and he sort of does here for the early 90's what he did for the 80's in The Wedding Singer. I have to give props for his excellent choices in music (I maintain that Ultra Violet is one of U2's most underrated songs, and I was pleased to see it's inclusion in this movie). Also, watch for a cameo by the Cranberries' Dolores O'Riordan as – surprise! A wedding singer.

Unfortunately, Click is extremely disjointed, all too sappy and once the clicker gimmick starts to wear thin, there isn't much to fall back on. It doesn't have much of a rhythm, and again, the balance is off. As was the case with Sandler's 50 First Dates, the dick and fart jokes in Click undermine it's attempts at sweetness and heart. I certainly could have done without a sequence in which Sandler farts in David Hasselhoff's face. Seriously, it isn't nearly as funny as it sounds. I also could have done without repeated shots of the family dog humping a stuffed duck. Just dull, unimaginative schtick. I couldn't help but think as Click wore on, that it would have been nice to have had a remote there in the theater. I could've had us out of there in 45 minutes and improved it to boot.

Click is pretty forgettable. It never reaches the manic heights of Sandler's best comical work (Happy Gilmore) nor does it attain the sincerity and charm of The Wedding Singer. It's too bad really, because when the film introduced a character with the last name O'Doyle (take note Billy Madison fans) I thought I was in for a rollicking good time. Unfortunately, this is a sub par movie. My suggestion is wait for Click on DVD, then you have the option to fast forward to the good parts.

Grade: C+