Jack and Jill

Perhaps it’s a shrewd if desperate career strategy: Adam Sandler creates an alter ego that’s so obnoxious, the audience forgets about how annoying his own characters have become or how his comedic career seems to be in decline.

That’s about the only explanation for Jack and Jill, which is every bit as off-putting as it sounds. Sandler plays a dual role as both halves of a bickering brother-and-sister identical-twin duo forced to spend the holidays together.

It’s the type of film that features a half-dozen or so flatulence gags and a cavalcade of product placements, then has the audacity to attempt a heartwarming reconciliation at the end.

Jack is a director of television commercials who dreads the annual Thanksgiving visit from his sister Jill, a boorish and socially awkward buffoon who somehow is adored by Jack’s wife (Katie Holmes) and two small children. When Jill decides to extend her time with Jack’s family, he conspires to get rid of her by use of an online dating service. But naturally, the plan backfires.

There are numerous bizarre cameo appearances, but by the time Al Pacino appears midway through, cashing in his credibility by playing himself having an unexplained obsession with Jill, the film feels downright surreal.

With Jill, Sandler has created one of the most aggressively obnoxious movie roles in recent memory. Hers is a one-joke character stretched painfully out to feature length (one decent laugh comes when she’s hit in the head during the Showcase Showdown on “The Price is Right”). Even for those who think Sandler in drag is hilarious, it won’t be after an hour and a half.

Sandler might have intended the film to be some sort of tribute to the love shared by identical twins, since he enlists several actual pairs to share anecdotes during both the opening and closing credits.

Sandler works alongside many of his frequent collaborators, both in the cast and behind the scenes. The script by Steve Koren (Click) and Robert Smigel (You Don’t Mess with the Zohan) comes right off the low-brow comedy assembly line. Director Dennis Dugan has been Sandler’s right-hand man ever since Happy Gilmore some 15 years ago.

Simply put, the shtick is tired. Sandler might not want to grow up, but for the sake of career longevity, he might not have a choice.

Rated PG, 91 minutes.