Sandler has become a good actor of late, but here he gives over most of his talents to Jill, who is so screechy, needy, and lovelorn that you can hardly blame Jack for wanting to fade into the background.
Extruded from Sandler's Happy Madison filmic laugh factory, Jack and Jill makes lowbrow seem like grand opera, relying once again on fart, poop and sweat jokes to inject both yuks and yucks into the proceedings.
Al Pacino romantically pursuing a cross-dressing Adam Sandler around a medieval castle should be stunningly surreal, so it's a not-inconsiderable failure that Jack and Jill manages only dim, desperate outrageousness instead.
Left to his own devices, Sandler reverts to his worst, laziest habits. He forgets that what might have been tolerable in a three-minute "Saturday Night Live" skit becomes excruciating when stretched to feature-film length.
It is what it is - and, more importantly, exactly what Happy Madison fans want it to be: something unruly, stupid and sort of funny, in the same way - and to exactly the same extent - that passing gas is funny.