Before you scratch your head and wonder what possessed one-time king of comedy Adam Sandler to tackle Middle East politics in one of his films, don't worry. He doesn't really. However, what you should be scratching you head about is where exactly Sandler's comedic talents have absconded to. It's been a while since Sandler managed to tap that intangible quality that made many of his (granted) silly films into massive global hits. For some, his patented man-child goofiness and juvenile antics grate on the nerves, but there's no denying that even the most anti-Sandler among us chuckled a few times during the course of the The Wedding Singer or The Waterboy. Perhaps the tipping point came when Sandler grew up, got married, and had children. Whatever the case may be, it's been a while since Sandler has been blindingly funny.

After the dual disasters of the hateful I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry and Reign Over Me - a misguided Jim Carrey-type stab at drama - Sandler has thrown his hat into the ring with Judd Apatow, the current arbiter of all things comedy, and regular partner Robert Smigel (Saturday Night Live) for a ridiculously named and only stutteringly funny action comedy that bears more than a passing resemblance to Sacha Baron Cohen's Borat.

Sandler stars as Zohan, a Mossad super-agent that gets tired of his job and seeks a fresh start in New York as a hairdresser. The film's biggest single gag is the visuals afforded to Zohan. He's obliviously outdated and out of touch with all things pop culture, and struts around with a Bee Gees era swagger that, evidently, the ladies love. After faking his death and slipping away from arch-nemesis The Phantom (John Turturro), he resurfaces in New York armed with a Paul Mitchell hairstyle guide from the mid-1980s, and the fun begins. Zohan is recognized by a cabbie with an interest in revenge for some past wrong, and in other news, an evil developer wants to bulldoze the neighborhood Zohan moves into to make way for a shopping mall. The film's plea for peace and tolerance comes in the form of Dalia (Emmanuelle Chriqui), a Palestinian woman who is the only one to offer Zohan a job. Sure enough, his hairstyling with bonuses becomes the talk of the town for the blue-hair set - think Warren Beatty's Shampoo.

As is the case with Sandler films, he peppers the backgrounds with buddies from the industry, and You Don't Mess With the Zohan is no different. Playing Spot the Random Celebrity becomes the focus for viewers not won over by the film's combination of innocent world-view and juvenile humor. Rob Schneider - as obnoxious as ever - appears in a typically offensive supporting role as a wannabe terrorist, but Turturro as The Phantom brightens things up to a degree with a cartoonish performance reminiscent of the Boris and Natasha hamminess from the '60s' animated series Rocky and Bullwinkle - but without that show's level of cheeky wit.

What works in You Don't Mess With the Zohan - much of which depends on your tolerance for crassness and puerility - does so largely due to Sandler's single-minded dedication to the role and anything that might be deemed embarrassing or beneath a star of his stature (yes, yes, you could argue that for the entire film). That's not surprising when you consider that fact that Sandler became a star on the strength of just that quality. He was never afraid to look like a fool for a laugh and always embraced his childishness; he is the proto-Seth Rogen.

Director Dennis Dugan directs Sandler for the fourth time here, and though he doesn't bring anything new to the table, Dugan is clearly finely attuned to Sandler's "artistic process," which likely accounts for the improvisational tone for much of the proceedings. Dugan divides his directing duties between series television and films like Zohan, and so the pacing and structure have the sequential efficiency that defines TV. There's never any doubt as to where the film is going, or how it's going to get there.

Is the film a masterwork of subtle wit and biting satiric observation? Absolutely not, and anyone that takes pride in their cinematic tastes would be wise to default to a "How dreadfully dim" refrain. But Sandler does redeem himself a tiny bit (again, relative to your affection for Sandler) and reveals some of his early charm such as it is. Ultimately, Sandler and co. remain rooted in the toilet, with the belief that old people who want sex is the height of hilarity. And like most of Apatow's films, You Don't Mess With the Zohan rambles on for far too long and wears out its welcome well before the closing credits. It's a case of whatever funny bits were in the trailer indeed being the comic highlights.

You Don't Mess With the Zohan opens in Hong Kong today.

(HK Edition 09/18/2008 page4)