Longest Yard not short on funny

I usually try to avoid movies that contain cross-dressing, professional wrestlers or sports. That's not to say I have a problem with any of the aforementioned subject matters, but history has taught me that with the exception of To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar, Ready to Rumble, Happy Gilmore and Blue Chips, these topics lead to bad movies. So the thought of seeing the re-make of the 1974 Robert Alrich flick The Longest Yard didn't necessarily appeal to me.

This time, Adam Sandler takes the lead role of Paul "Wrecking" Crewe, a disgraced quarterback who lands in prison because he realized he was dating Courtney Cox-Arquette, and that isn't cool (sorry to David Arquette, who must still be a happy man with that enormous boob job his wife got).

Crewe is then forced to lead a team of misfit inmates - including the show-stealing Chris Rock as "Caretaker" - against the guards, who are looking for an easy game.

Of course, as is the case with every sports movie ever made, the plucky, murderous underdogs fight back and win the game while winning over the fans that initially had a hard time cheering for killers, arsonists and freaks.

But what this movie gives away in innovation, it gets back in spades in comedic value. Rock and Sandler prove to be as good a comedic duo as anyone could possibly predict, and the bit players are made interesting by shutting up.

High-profile professional wrestlers Steve Austin, Kevin Nash and Bill Goldberg all play roles, but don't get in the way like Hulk Hogan did in that dreadful string of late '80s films.

In fact, it was Sandler and Rock's interaction with these characters, including Tracy Morgan as a cross-dressing cheerleader, and the unfortunate Brucie, played by Nicolas Turturro, that make the film as funny as it is, though none of the jokes are memorably brilliant.

Truth be told, this movie will never win an Oscar, or even a People's Choice award. But therein lies the charm. The Longest Yard does not live up to the ridiculous standards of Happy Gilmore or Billy Madison, but is still a howl for any diehard or casual Sandler fan.