Big Daddy (1999)

There's a courtroom scene near the end of Big Daddy that is, without question, one of the most gloriously absurd pieces of cinema ever put in front of a jury. It makes no legal sense. It is completely emotionally manipulative. And it works on me every single time. That tells you pretty much everything you need to know about where this film sits: nowhere near high art, and absolutely fine with that.

Big Daddy is peak Adam Sandler, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. It's silly, it's sentimental, and it's packed with the kind of dumb humour that, somehow, still lands twenty-five years on. Sandler plays Sonny Koufax, a lazy, unemployed man-child who takes in a five-year-old boy mainly to impress his girlfriend, and ends up accidentally becoming a functioning adult in the process. That's the whole film, more or less. It doesn't hide its intentions for a second.

What makes it work is Sandler's commitment. He's fully in it, embracing every stupid gag and every sentimental beat with equal conviction. The comedy sits right across the spectrum, from pee jokes and butt stuff to genuinely warm, funny moments between Sonny and young Julian, who is played with real charm. The kid is adorable without being cloying, and the bond that develops between them is the thing that gives the film whatever heart it has. Which is more than you'd expect, frankly.

It's the classic Sandler tightrope. Obnoxious on one side, lovable on the other, and he walks it better here than in a lot of his work from that era. If you grew up on Billy Madison or Happy Gilmore, this fits right alongside them as comfort food: quotable, predictable, and weirdly rewatchable. I've seen it more times than I'd care to admit, and lines still pop into my head unprompted. That counts for something.

Now, let me be clear about what this film is not. It's not subtle. It's not realistic. The courtroom finale I mentioned operates on its own special plane of logic entirely, and the emotional manipulation in the third act is laid on with a trowel. But here's the thing: it never pretends otherwise. It sets out to be a daft, feel-good comedy with a warm centre buried under the stupid gags, and on that front it absolutely delivers. There's an honesty in a film that knows exactly what it is.

For anyone who wants to see what Sandler can do when he actually stretches, I'd point you towards Uncut Gems (2019), which is a completely different beast and proof that the man has genuine range. But Big Daddy isn't trying to be that, and it shouldn't be judged like it is. And if you're in the mood for something from the same playful, knockabout corner of his filmography, I had a decent enough time with Mr. Deeds (2002), though Big Daddy is the stronger film by some distance.

This is a lazy Sunday film. Pizza on your lap, zero expectations, maybe a beer on the go. Watched in that spirit, it's a warm, funny hour and a half that goes down easy and leaves you smiling. Three stars, and I'd watch it again without a moment's hesitation.

Rating: ★★★  | Year: 1999  | Watched: 2025-10-09

View on Letterboxd →

Where to watch

Watch in the UK
Stream: Sky Go · Now TV Cinema · Sony Pictures Core Amazon Channel
Rent: Apple TV Store · Rakuten TV · Amazon Video · Google Play Movies
Buy: Apple TV Store · Rakuten TV · Amazon Video · Google Play Movies
Physical: Amazon UK · Zavvi

Watch in the US
Stream: Netflix · Starz Apple TV channel
Rent: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Buy: Amazon Video · Apple TV Store · Google Play Movies · YouTube
Physical: Amazon US

Affiliate disclosure: Movies With Macca may earn a small commission on purchases or subscriptions started via these links. It costs you nothing extra.

Related on Movies With Macca

More with Adam Sandler: Mr. Deeds (2002) · Uncut Gems (2019)
More from the 1990s: Lessons of Darkness (1992) · Shinjuku Boys (1995) · Blue (1993) · Cemetery Man (1994)
More comedy: The Eagle (1925) · The General (1926) · Americana (2023) · The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988)
More drama: Viy (1967) · Wonder (2017) · A Better Tomorrow (1986) · Beautiful Boy (2018)