ΒιΆΉΤΌΕΔ

A timid remake of Robert Aldrich's ball-busting 1974 prison flick, The Longest Yard sees Adam Sandler attempting to fill Burt Reynolds' shoes as a former star quarterback banged up for a vague game-fixing scandal. Bullied by the prison warder (James Cromwell) into assembling an American football team for a guards vs prisoners grudge match, Sandler must decide between throwing the game (and thus reducing his sentence) or standing by his new buddies.

Despite adhering to the plot of the original, The Longest Yard somehow ditches everything that made it worthwhile. Gone is the sneaky political subtext that drew parallels between the prison regime and Nixon's administration. Likewise, the violence has been toned down and the rough ammorality of the prisoners ironed smooth. At the same time, the film steers clear of any 21st-century re-invention. A resolutely macho experience, it opens with a shot of female buttocks in a bikini, as if to apologise for the all-male content that follows. The point is hammered home with a depressing excess of laddish, homophobic humour.

"PLODDING MATERIAL"

Adam Sandler, of course, is no Burt Reynolds. But then neither is Burt Reynolds these days, judging by his performance as the team's crusty mentor. And what the hell has he done to his face? He looks like Imelda Marcos wrapped in cling-film. Chris Rock fares better as Sandler's buddy, but there's little he can do with the plodding material. In truth, the worst you can say about The Longest Yard is that Vinnie Jones's 2001 remake, Mean Machine, is marginally more exciting.