Happy Gilmore 2 Review: Nostalgia Fading into Absurdity

Nearly three decades after his Tour Championship win, Happy Gilmore is now a widowed, struggling single dad and recovering alcoholic, returning reluctantly to golf to fund his daughter Vienna’s ballet dreams in Europe. Alongside his new caddie Oscar (Bad Bunny), Happy reunites with familiar faces—Shooter McGavin, Hal L., and Julie Bowen as Virginia —and dives into outrageous tournament antics loaded with celebrity cameos. The film balances slapstick chaos, emotional reflection, and callbacks to the original’s charm as Happy fights to rebuild hope and integrity.

Underneath its absurd comedy, Happy Gilmore 2 is about grief, responsibility, and redemption. Happy’s struggle with loss and addiction echoes the Christian journey of healing and restoration. His return to golf isn't just for laughs—it’s an attempt to provide for his children and reclaim hope. Scripture teaches us to bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2), and Happy’s evolving role as a father offers an opportunity to reflect on sacrificial love, accountability, and choosing faith over despair.

Kyle Newacheck leans heavily into nostalgia and slapstick in the film’s first half, using rapid-fire pacing and heartfelt callbacks to recapture the charm of the original. This opening stretch builds solid goodwill, blending emotional sincerity with familiar gags. However, the second half takes a sharp turn into chaotic and uneven territory—overloaded with celebrity cameos and excessive flashbacks that derail the narrative’s cohesion. The tonal shift disrupts the emotional grounding, leaving the story feeling scattered rather than satisfying.

Adam Sandler delivers raw energy and wobbly vulnerability as Happy, effectively navigating between slapstick and sorrow. His children, especially Sunny Sandler as Vienna, offer touching emotional stakes. Christopher McDonald and Julie Bowen reprise their roles with welcome warmth, while Ben Stiller brings comedic contrast. More surprising is how pro‑golfing cameo performances (especially John Daly) occasionally outshine scripted roles with spontaneity and authenticity.

This sequel is more suitable for teens and adult viewers. While less violent than many comedies, it contains coarse language, crude innuendo, and an on-screen death played for shock/comedy rather than reflection—moments younger kids may find troubling. Fans of the original will enjoy the callbacks and meta humor, but those expecting consistent hilarity may find the second half jarring. It provides a space for families to discuss grief, recovery, and legacy humor with older teens.