by Patrice Downing, Contributing Writer
In seventh grade, my life science class had a set of hamsters in the classroom. I can’t remember what exactly their educational purpose was supposed to be, as we were not allowed to pet or hold them (they were both biters), and they were both male so we weren’t exactly going to learn about life cycles from their amorous activities. Over long weekends and holidays, we were given the chance to take them home and care for them. I never had the opportunity for a hamster slumber party since I already had four cats, three younger brothers, a dog, a saltwater aquarium, and hermit crab terrarium at home. After watching Leo this past weekend, I think I might have missed out.
We’ve been treated (or subjected, depending on film) to a pretty wide variety of Adam Sandler films since he signed on the dotted line with Netflix back in 2014. According to a 2020 article, that has translated into over two billion hours of watch time over his first five years creating Netflix originals. The relationship is seemingly continuing to be mutually beneficial, as they keep renewing the partnership. Following the release last month of You’re So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah, Leo was released in time for Thanksgiving viewing.
Leo is an animated musical “adventure” about the antics of a geriatric lizard named Leonardo (Sandler) and his tankmate, Squirtle the turtle (Bill Burr). The two ornery, aging reptiles have lived in a fifth grade classroom for as long as either can remember, and their knowledge of the world is thus limited to things a fifth grader would know. Their main skill being the ability to peg the students’ personalities and weaknesses with laser-like precision, faster than the most skilled early childhood behaviorist. Some classroom shakeups take place, resulting in a parents’ night, during which Leonardo overhears a parent mention the average lifespan for his species. This sparks the realization that, much like his molting skin, he’s about to schluff off. Leonardo decides he doesn’t want to spend the limited time he has left lounging in his tank, and decides he wants to high tail it for the everglades. He plans to make a break for it during his next weekend at a student’s house, but things don’t go even remotely the way he planned.
Breaking down the highs and lows, let’s start with the music. Now I totally get that not every musical animated adventure can be Frozen or Encanto, and not every song “Let It Go” or “Surface Pressure” (yeah, that’s right, “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” is fine, but how many songs have a lyric about Cerberus?!). I couldn’t sing you a single line two days after watching Leo. I think that’s mostly due to the fact that the music is more of a stage play style, where characters just randomly start sing-speaking their dialogue, rather than saying their lines non melodically. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I didn’t find those sections of the film in general fun enough to justify making them musical, as they kinda make the runtime drag a little. Honestly, the one hour and 42-minute runtime is the only other negative for me. Cutting out 10 to 15 minutes to condense the laughs, and reduce the lag time between them, would help hold the attention of both kids and parents alike.
That being said, Leo isn’t a laugh-a-minute, rolling-on-the-floor, guffaw fest; however, it is relatively consistent on the giggle count. Starting with the character design, I did have a pretty good chuckle every time kindergarteners enter the frame like a pack of wild golden retriever puppies pouncing on a dropped hamburger at a barbecue. They have wide eyes and giant heads, and talk unintelligibly. I couldn’t help but laugh. It reminds me of how South Park depicts Canadians with the flip-top heads, unrealistically different to show the disparity that in life doesn’t really exist because they are in fact so similar. I also enjoyed the look of Leonardo and Squirtle — you can tell they’re older, as they are slightly less vibrant and a little paunchy around the jowls and midsection without being overdone.
And while we’re on the subject of visuals, you’ve got to pay attention to the details on walls, posters, buildings, et cetera, or you’re gonna miss some of the more subtle humor. There is a montage showing the reptilian roommates over the years, and every time it jumps forward in time I laughed at the calendar on the wall. Same goes for the students’ homes: Their bedrooms in particular have some fun details if you pay attention. I really appreciate when an animated film takes the time to flesh out the backgrounds and sets, when it could easily have been left generic and bland.
The last pro is probably the most obvious, but the voice casting in Leo is its best feature. Sandler and Burr are a delight together, and really sound like a couple of cranky old men who’ve been friends forever and are set in their ways, just looking to scuffle through life as it is. As with many of his projects, the rest of the cast features Happy Madison staples such as Sandler’s daughters Sadie and Sunny as some of the students, along with his wife Jackie as a parent, and of course Rob Schneider as the school principal. We also get treated to pop-ins with a few more recognizable voices: comedian Jo Koy as the school coach and Jason Alexander plays a pushy parent.
If you’re looking for a wholesome family flick to break up the monotony of the myriad of Christmas content saturating streamers this month, Leo is a great little palate cleanser. The poop joke ratio is surprisingly low, the visuals unique, and the characters actually experience growth over the course of the adventures.
Rating: Liked It
Leo is currently streaming on Netflix
You can read more from Patrice Downing, and follow her on Twitter, Serializd, and Letterboxd