‘Happy Gilmore 2’ did its job without making you regret it

When Netflix didn’t hand out screeners for Happy Gilmore 2, it almost felt like a sign they weren’t confident in it. You don’t withhold promos for what’s supposed to be the crown jewel of your summer slate if you’re expecting a win. It was tough not to wonder if this highly anticipated sequel was headed for a flop.

But it wasn’t a flop. Happy Gilmore 2 was fine. And that’s probably the best-case scenario.

This sequel, decades in the making, had every chance to swing and miss, to cheapen the legacy of the original, to lean too hard into nostalgia, to remind us why comedy sequels rarely work. But it didn’t. It showed up, gave us a few laughs, tipped its cap to the 1996 classic, and walked off the course without embarrassing itself.

That alone is a win.

There’s no doubt this was a modern movie built in a content-first world. At times, it felt like I was watching a TikTok version of Happy Gilmore. It almost felt like the whole movie was boiled down to punchy moments, cameos, and callbacks made to light up social media before the end credits rolled. But buried beneath all that was something admirable. Restraint. The movie didn’t try to reinvent Happy Gilmore. It just gave him a reason to pick up the clubs again.

Hey JACKASS!!!#HappyGilmore2 NOW PLAYING on @netflix !!! pic.twitter.com/Yl1wayQNhp

— Marshall Mathers (@Eminem) July 25, 2025

Adam Sandler eases back into the role with the comfort of an old pair of golf shoes. He’s still got the swing, still got the temper, and still — somehow — makes you root for a guy who talks like a lunatic and punches more than he putts.

The film gestures at a plot — something about redemption, an old rivalry, maybe even legacy — but you aren’t here for the plot. You’re here for nostalgic purposes, like everybody else. And it delivers. The professional golfer cameos were a sneaky highlight. The ones who didn’t try too hard ended up stealing scenes. And the callback to Scottie Scheffler’s real-life arrest was easily one of the movie’s standout moments.

The sports media cameos were also pretty fun, even if they started to pile up. Stephen A. Smith yelling about Happy’s short game on his eponymous podcast? Sure. Chris Berman didn’t break out any catchphrases, but just having him show up was a nice nod to the ESPN era the original thrived in. And the ever-legendary Verne Lundquist — with that twinkle in his eye — brought just the right amount of warmth, even if the movie leaned into “remember this?” a little too often for its own good.

That’s probably where Happy Gilmore 2 comes up short. It wasn’t trying to be a comedy with cameos; it was a cameo-fest with bits of comedy in between. By the time the 10th cameo rolled around, the movie started to feel like it was trying to go viral instead of telling a story. At a certain point, it stopped being a sequel and started feeling like a caricature of itself.

But for all the parts that made you shake your head, it didn’t forget what mattered. Sandler stayed true to Happy. The tone never veered into cringe or felt overly polished. It stuck to what made the original work and gave us a sequel that didn’t make us regret even wanting one.

So yeah, Happy Gilmore 2 was fine. But in a world full of lifeless remakes and lazy cash grabs, “fine” almost feels like a win. It made me laugh. It made me smile. And most importantly, it didn’t ruin the legacy of the first one.

That’s all I asked for. And that’s exactly what it delivered.