About the only thing this lame comedy shares with the 1936 movie is that it can kindly be described as almost an anagram of original director Frank Capra's surname.
Sandler plays Longfellow Deeds (a sort of Forrest Gump with O-Levels), who runs a pizzeria in New Hampshire backwater Mandrake Falls.
Life is pretty uneventful for the ever-helpful Deeds, whose dreams don't go much further than having his greeting card poetry accepted by Hallmark.
Until, that is, he is informed by slick corporate mogul Chuck Cedar (Harris) that he has inherited $40bn from his distant great uncle Preston Blake (Harve Presnell).
The rags-to-riches story has New York's tabloid press salivating and TV hack Babe Bennett (Ryder) is dispatched to bring in the story by any means possible.
Posing as a school nurse, she sets up a mugging, resulting in country bumpkin Deeds rescuing her from her 'assailant' and asking her to dinner and, inevitably, romance.
This is the sort of comedy where each gag is followed by a silence so emphatic you almost pray for a burst of canned laughter.
Some jokes almost work (Babe illuminating her Scandinavian roots by telling Deeds her grandfather was in Abba) but most don't even struggle to their feet.
The funniest moment comes when Babe berates her sleazy boss Mac McGrath (Harris) for targeting such an innocent abroad.
But she doesn't eulogise his small-town values of decency and honesty - she explains that Deeds "doesn't share our sense of ironic detachment". At least, I think it's a joke.
It's crude and, ultimately, a waste of the talent on offer, including the usually reliable Steve Buscemi, John Turturro as Deeds' Spanish butler and, er, John McEnroe.
Do yourself a good deed and avoid.
Tim Evans
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