Film

A Heartfelt Ode To Al Pacino Rapping About Donuts In Adam Sandler’s Excellent ‘Jack And Jill’

A true work of art.

by Joseph Earp  10 January 2020
Adam Sandler Al Pacino in Jack and Jill

Want more Junkee in your life? Sign up to our newsletter, and follow us on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook so you always know where to find us.

Hang around long enough, and you’ll eventually become respectable. That’s the Adam Sandler story, anyway.

The comedian and actor has spent years in the critical wilderness, his anti-art masterpieces rejected by snooty critics and derided by people that haven’t actually seen them. But despite the critical ribbing he got, Sandler refused to go away. He kept doing his thing. And eventually, the critics came around to him.

Related
The Unexpected Humanity Of Adam Sandler's New Netflix Special

His recent stand-up set, 100% Fresh, won raves, and his role in the forthcoming Uncut Gems is being heralded as Oscar-worthy stuff. Now, finally, the critical establishment has accepted him.

But along with that revival has emerged the narrative that Sandler has only just come into his own. Ask critics, and they’ll call something like Uncut Gems an anomaly.

What they don’t seem to realise is that Adam Sandler has never made a bad film. Never.

Case in point? Jack and Jill. And more specifically, the scene where Academy Award-winning actor Al Pacino appears in a commercial for Dunkin’ Donuts.

This one, to be precise:

Everybody’s Wrong About Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill got more hate than even the average Sandler project.

Sandra Hall of The Sydney Morning Herald claimed that the actor had “become afflicted with the belief that we can’t get enough of him.” Sean Burns of Philadephia Weekly called it “the worst Adam Sandler picture yet, which is saying something.” Even Michael Compton of respected Kentucky-based bowling journal, Bowling Green Daily News, called it “painfully unfunny.”

This kind of critical slaughtering is increasingly common these days. Critics don’t write in a vacuum. They develop narratives about a film; feed off each other’s dislike. Nobody wants to be the lone critical voice, particularly in an age where becoming the dissenting score on Rotten Tomatoes can get you hounded off the internet. And so pile-ons happen at the drop of a hat.

How else to explain the critical slaughtering of a film that starts with Adam Sandler guzzling Pepto Bismol while arguing with a puppet stomach? Or that features a moment where a Cockatoo named Poopsie tries to drown itself in a chocolate fountain, a scene so funny that it became a viral meme without anybody even knowing where it came from?

Jack and Jill isn’t the cringeworthy work made by an idiot. It’s a surrealistic masterpiece that knows exactly what it’s doing at any one point. This is a movie where a kid tapes a chicken leg to his stomach within the first 15 minutes — it’s way ahead of any jokes that you could ever make at its expense.

It’s demented, and delirious, and dumb. But most importantly, it knows all that. It’s aggressively lowbrow in a way that swings all the way around and becomes high art again. And so pretending that it’s unaware of its own lunacy is just an example of film critics constructing a narrative around which they can fire off zingers.

Al Pacino Should Have Won An Oscar For Jack and Jill

That self-awareness is most clearly on display in a sub-plot involving storied actor Al Pacino. See, Jack (Adam Sandler), the film’s straight man, is the director of commercials. Desperately trying to keep his sanity intact while his identical twin sister Jill (also Adam Sandler) is in town, he is tasked with the additional pressure of getting Pacino to star in an advert for American restaurant chain Dunkin’ Donuts.

Pacino — playing himself — is unsure about the job. He’s just had a highly-publicised mental breakdown onstage while playing Richard The Third — a neat nod to Pacino’s own history with Shakespeare. But he doesn’t reckon that he’s hit rock bottom just yet, and is insulted by the insinuation that he degrade his art.

That is, until he meets Jill, and falls wildly in love.

What follows is a lot of scenes of Pacino going full honey-baked ham, screaming and slobbering and generally being Too Much. But it’s also a neat comment on the twin-faces of American art. Pacino represents its respectable, storied side; Sandler in a black wig its commercialism. Hollywood’s always wrestled with two reputations — being craven entertainment and serious art, and seeing Pacino and Sandler dance around one another is a way of representing that dichotomy visually.

Oh, and then Al Pacino sings a song about Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Dunk-Dunk-Dunkaccino”

The Pacino sub-plot pays off with a scene in which Pacino caves and does the Dunkin’ Donuts ad. Although, describing it as “a” scene is a disservice. It’s not a scene. It’s the scene — the crown jewel not only of the film, but an entire way of making American comedies.

The trick to the scene is that Pacino plays it very straight. He’s sincere — it’s the ad around him that isn’t.

Not that it’s a cartoon. The ad is just crazy enough to be believable. Sandler never overplays his hand. The thing isn’t a mutant parody; it’s the kind of craven cash-grab that you could genuinely expect to see on your television.

The result? Well, I mean, watch it again for yourself:

We have narrow definitions of what ‘quality’ means. We like to pretend that true creative greatness must be difficult, and technically accomplished — the kind of masterpieces that expand your mind just as they’re numbing your butt. But that’s because we’ve allowed ourselves to be sold the myth that true genius is difficult to swallow.

It’s a lie. Great art doesn’t have to be hard. It just has to move you; to fill you up with joy like a cup, and to expand your understanding of the world.

That’s what the Dunkaccino scene from Jack and Jill does. And that’s what makes it true art.

Joseph Earp is a staff writer at Junkee. His favourite Sandler film is probably Punch-Drunk Love, though Happy Madison is a close second. He tweets @Joseph_O_Earp.