By Owen Gleiberman
Updated February 20, 1998 at 05:00 AM EST

Adam Sandler, looking like the offspring of Bob Dylan and Rick Springfield, plays Robbie, a once-aspiring rock star who ekes out a living as a wedding singer. The year is 1985, and Robbie, ditched at the altar, meets Julia (Drew Barrymore), a beautiful waitress. The movie asks the riveting question, When will Jlia figure out that her smarmy, Miami Vice-jacketed, compulsively unfaithful jerk of a fiance is unworthy of her affections? Pleasant, predictable, and utterly weightless, The Wedding Singer is like an Elvis movie set in a cardboard-cutout version of the mid-’80s. What starts out as a funky Adam Sandler karaoke show, complete with a K-Tel array of new-wave singles, turns into the most trifling of love stories. They should have stuck with Sandler puttin’ on the hits, paying homage to what you didn’t know until now were the good old days. B-

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