‘Adam Sandler: I Love You’ review: Netflix masters the stand-up formula to great effect

We’re living in the Age of the Streaming Comedy Special, when it seems like there’s at least one new stand-up show every week from a wide range of talented comics — some legends, some rookies, some up-and-comers. It’s Dave Chappelle and Bill Burr and Nikki Glaser and Matt Rife and Taylor Tomlinson and John Mulaney and Ali Wong and Chris Rock and Hannah Berner and Shane Gillis and Loni Love and Sebastian Maniscalco and Marc Maron and Nate Bargatze and Kevin Hart and the list goes on. , and it’s pretty cool to have such a wide variety of quality comedy offerings available at any given time.

We are also familiar with the format for the vast majority of these special offers. A disembodied voice says, “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for. ..” and the comic steps out from behind the wings and onto a beautifully lit and designed set with a glass of water on a stool in the middle of the stage and away we go.

All well and good, because the formula works and keeps us focused on the material. But it’s refreshing when a comedian puts a creative and unique spin on the stand-up special, and that’s what happens with “Adam Sandler: Love You.” There’s something brain-tickling and even a little unsettling (in a good way) about this consistently funny but sometimes wistful work. Sandler teams up with “Uncut Gems” co-director Josh Safdie for a special that exists in the real world, with the real Adam Sandler giving a brilliant performance, but also heading into some sort of surreal, alternate-universe setting.

The first five minutes of “Love You” play like a deleted scene from “Uncut Gems,” with Sandler pulling up in a driveway, his car windshield cracked, and politely dealing with a group of rabid fans seeking autographs. (The crowd includes real-life autograph collector Mitchell Wenig, who along with his brother Stewart appeared in “Uncut Gems” as brothers owed money by Sandler’s Howard Ratner.)

Once Sandler is inside, it’s clear the venue isn’t exactly the United Center or American Airlines Arena. “Who booked this place?” he wonders aloud as he navigates the seedy backstage area, eventually having a quick exchange with opening act ventriloquist Willie Tyler (and of course Lester) before taking the stage to a crowd of several hundred fans.

Adam Sandler, who routinely sells out modern sports stadiums, plays what could charitably be described as a truly s- —ty place.

Over the course of the next hour, a number of things go wrong; we won’t give away the issue, other than to say that Sandler soldiers through every setback, even when the type of tech is both ineffective and unapologetic. It seems that the weakness of the location is literally baked into the production, as Safdie and the production design team have transformed the Nocturne Theater in Glendale, California into a raging disaster that looks like it’s on the verge of being shut down for multiple code violations. It’s strange to see one of the biggest comedy stars of his generation in such a small setting, but it never fails to be interesting.

Of course, none of these unusual choices would make much difference if the material wasn’t there, and in that department, Sandler delivers a hilarious yet thought-provoking mix of jokes and songs. Not everything works; an attempt at an elongated and rather dirty joke, after Norm Macdonald’s infamous “Dirty Johnny” routine, wears out its welcome well before the game.

Mostly, though, Sandler pulls it off, whether it’s telling a story that sounds like it’s pulled from real life but quickly becomes absurd (and that’s easy), or playing solid guitar while belting out songs of genre, all co-written with Dan Bulla, who also provides keyboard accompaniment.

On the surface, these songs are pretty simplistic rhymes that feature plenty of lines in the lines and provide constant laughs, but when you think about the subject matter and how it’s treated, there’s something almost haunting about it. (I mean, we get titles like “Old Man with a Child,” “Depressed,” “Divorce,” and “Scary S- – -.” )

Even choosing Nicolette Larson’s adult contemporary classic “Lotta Love,” which is equal parts hopeful and lonely, to end a special book is curious but effective. There is no explanation why we hear this song; it’s just there and fits the mood. Until then, we’re convinced this is some of the best work Adam Sandler has ever done.