Ça, c'est mon gars

Adam Sandler atteint des sommets de vacuité avec cette comédie agressivement scabreuse et férocement misogyne, qui flatte les plus bas instincts du public masculin.

What's sad is that Sander has the spark, but he's been suppressing it for years, instead being content flipping off audiences and raking in cash. That's the only way that movies like That's My Boy get made.

Everything is so protracted and obvious, that it seems like Sandler just got his writers to throw all of his other comedies into a blender to make this “film”.

A proven comedy formula that's facing diminishing returns attempts another rally.

Rejoice, fifth-grade fellas! That's My Boy is a movie just for you. It has beer, hot-for-teacher sex, beer, gross-out sex, beer, strip clubs, beer, lots of bodily fluids and, mostly, a family of blue bloods gaga over an uncouth man-child.

Il faut vraiment porter Adam Sandler assez proche de son coeur pour subir sans misère ces deux heures de pure débilité.

For some reason, Sandler is hellbent on perpetuating and repurposing his annoying brand of moronic, preadolescent schtick. Worse, his lowbrow comedies seem to be sinking ever lower.