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Frank Coraci, 2006, USA

All American Man-child Asshole – Adam Sandler! – chasing the All-American dream of climbing the corporate ladder to ridiculous wealth gets a supernatural visit that endows him with a remote control that, um, can control his universe. Ooh,  manchild dads are great when they bring gifts home, but bad when work means they have no family time, etc etc. Like much of this mainstream Hollywood piffle, it conveys America’s confused desires for both money and some supernatural intervention in order to have it all. And fart gags.
 

Fat is funny. Sex-changes are funny. Dog shagging is funny (well...). And then it’s all a dream and highly insulting, leaving nothing but another film with a false happy ending (shouldn’t he lose his job? Wasn’t that why he couldn’t go on a family holiday in the first place?), made up of crass emotional, superficial and personal social criticism (it’s pretty much all your own fault) and the bottom line is that we need even better gizmos to make the world work for our own interests. Oh, and supernatural interventions to make us better people … or something.