Adam Sandler Leo

Netflix’s ‘Leo’ Offers All the Best of Adam Sandler

Adam Sandler voices Leo the Lizard in the Netflix original animated film that offers character-driven comedy and compassion in equal parts. The 74-year-old lizard comes to believe that his life will come to a close when he turns 75, so he sets his eyes on escaping his classroom-bound terrarium in hopes of a life of reptilian freedom in the Everglades. Yet, when a crotchety substitute teacher replaces the sing-songy sweet Mrs. Salinas and forces the kids to take turns caring for Leo at home — to teach them responsibility — he begins imparting wisdom on the youngsters who could use the advice of a sage tuatara. There’s also his pal Squirtle the turtle (Bill Burr), who is the cynical realist to Sandler’s warm optimist. 

The two complement each other, making for some of the film’s funniest exchanges via the sheer juxtaposition of their polar personalities. They bicker like an old married couple, which in the hands of raspy, warm, and gravelly Sandler and a gruff, Bostonian, and irreverent Burr is all the more shticky. The two stand-up comedians make for an inspiring duo — with Leo serving as the innocent and emotional Laurel to Squirtle’s exasperated and straight-laced Hardy. 

Squirtle and Leo sneak in just enough adult-themed jokes for the parents in the room — not-so-adequately concealing double entendres behind the innocence of animation. Let’s just say when Leo sneaks into Squirtle’s shell for a little warmth, he enters through the back door…and the rest of this scene is easily imaginable. The sexual puns are kept to a minimum though, as good ol’ family-friendly humor emerges, with the various kiddos flexing their pre-pubescent voices to sing about the woes of childhood. 

The numbers are reminiscent of Sandler’s earlier musical glory years — featuring ridiculous rhymes akin to “The Chanukah Song.” Who could have expected a kid to rhyme “immune boosters kick in” with “kung pao chicken?” Sandler is the king of absurdity when it comes to lyrical ingenuity. He’s here to amuse and get a laugh, and that he does. Yet, the songs — co-written by Robert Smigel, Tiffany Topol, Dan Reitz, and David Feldman — also boast relatable themes for those dealing with the trials and tribulations of pre-adolescence. 

Whether conquering anxiety-induced verbosity or overprotective parents, these kids sing their hearts out with easy-to-digest messages that will resonate with the film’s target audience (and maybe even give their parents a little window into the needs of their offspring). The numbers are just as comical as they are contemplative, and the way the lyrics balance sentiment with silliness is reflective of the film’s overall tone, which is lighthearted but not light on heart. Each child has their moment in the spotlight. Each child receives a characterization that uniquely benefits from two-dimensional simplifications that spotlight their individual problems as opposed to their overall identities. For, this approach allows for palpable snapshots into the lives of each child, (hopefully) allowing the kids in the audience to see themselves in the otherwise blank canvases. 

And, just when you think this movie has exhausted all its resources — it has spoken and serenaded about all the world-ending feelings these fledglings face — it provides a little twist — one that is surprising yet inevitable — to set the falling action into adventure-bound place. When a turtle and an elderly teacher are forced to kick it into high gear, the movie reels back in the short-attention-spanned viewers it was about to lose. Oh, and a kid from the Bronx drives a school bus, so that’s fun for the youngsters in the room — and a nightmare scenario for all the parents watching…who hope their bold and fearless children don’t get any ideas

With a little bit of adventure, a scoop of saccharine sentiment, as well as slapstick physical comedy and quippy banter, this animated original from Happy Madison Productions manages to live up to the very high expectations set by thematically-heavy Pixar films that, dare we say, sometimes fly over the target demographic’s heads. 

Leo is now streaming on Netflix.

Josh is an entertainment writer and editor at Thought Catalog.