Leo, the new Adam Sandler animated comedy, is a movie with an identity crisis. A sincere and sweet kids’ movie mashed up with a more subversive adult skewering of that genre, it’s funny and touching in parts but never adds up to a cohesive whole. It’s a fine distraction for family night, but never establishes its own identity.
Sandler dons a curmudgeonly voice as the titular character, a lizard who’s spent his entire life in a terrarium inside a fifth grade classroom. Old and jaded, Leo spends his days critiquing the kids and bemoaning the current state of parents and their children alongside his best friend, an equally cranky turtle named Squirtle, voiced by Bill Burr. When the 74-year-old Leo learns that he’s only one year away from the end of his anticipated lifespan, he plots an escape so that he can finally enjoy the high life in the Everglades. But Leo’s plan is thwarted when a substitute teacher (Cecily Strong) requires the kids to take Leo home – and the kids, one by one, learn Leo can talk.
After nearly 30 years as a leading man, Sandler’s shtick has taken him from anarchic prankster to father figure, and Leo tries to fuse both sides of that personality, to varying success. The movie name checks Charlotte’s Web several times (although Leo complains about all the delicious spiders he gets to read about but never eat), and it’s apparent that Sandler and co-writers Robert Smigel and Paul Sado are aiming for a modern-day equivalent. Leo goes home with a new student each week and they all have a specific problem he helps solve, whether it’s loosening the bonds of helicopter parents, dealing with divorce or overcoming their insecurities. Sandler makes Leo a sage and kind voice of wisdom, imparting what he’s learned over the years to help them navigate their transition to middle school. It’s sweet, even if it’s a bit overly sentimental, especially when Sandler bursts into song.
But just when it appears the film is trying to inspire kids, it digs its elbows into adults’ sides with remarks about over-aggressive parents and kids named Cole, as well as an octogenarian teacher with such a strong crush on the gym teacher that she has his cup mounted on the wall at her home. Burr and Sandler are funny together and have strong chemistry, but the bountiful jokes about body fluids and thinly veiled double entendres rest uncomfortably alongside the more kid-friendly spine. As a slightly edgier movie, Leo might be funnier; as one more focused on the kids and the lessons of overcoming their fears, it might be sweeter. Together, it has its moments but never fully meshes, although a running gag about a jilted drone (it makes sense in context) got big enough laughs that it earns this movie a half-star more than it probably deserves.
Smigel co-directs alongside Robert Marianetti and David Wachtenheim, both of whom are fellow Saturday Night Live animation veterans. And that might be a key to understanding the movie’s tonal mishmash. It feels like the trio and Sandler – whose Happy Madison Productions produced this for Netflix – wanted something edgier but can’t figure out how to shoehorn it into a more traditional kids’ feature. It’s a balance Sandler has tried to walk for years, only sometimes successfully (his first two Hotel Transylvania movies are a much more coherent attempt). And so while the film has its funny gags – kindergartners depicted as wide-eyed monsters, some genuinely funny gross out humor – several feel scattershot or tonally out of place, such as a dermatologist father (Jason Alexander) doing a dance number or a saccharine ballad in which all the 10-year-old kids reminisce about their rapidly ending childhood.
Adam Sandler, Bill Burr, and Sunny Sandler in “Leo.” © 2023 Netflix, Inc.
The animation is well-rendered, and the kid performances (including one by Sandler’s daughter Sunny) feel genuine and heartfelt. And while the songs are largely forgettable, every once in a while there’s a lyric that forces a giggle (Leo has a song about crying being annoying that is funny up until it turns cloying). Its plot feels largely episodic and the way that Strong’s substitute waffles back and forth between hero and villain never quite works; it should also surprise no one that Leo learns that his own life expectancy might have been underestimated, saving the film from a downer ending.
None of this is bad, but none of it turns into something quite good, either. It’s hard to tell what audience Leo is aiming for. Kids will enjoy the pratfalls and pee gags, while most of the banter between Burr and Sandler will go over their heads. Parents will laugh at some of the edgier jokes but grow quickly annoyed by the songs and the syrupy life lessons. Some of Sandler’s longtime fans might appreciate his more outrageous jokes, but they’ll also likely wonder why he’s basically playing a fat Jiminy Cricket for so much of the movie. Leo is perfectly adequate, but never becomes anything special.
