‘The Ridiculous Six’ is outrageously idiotic

Dan Patrick plays Abraham Lincoln and Vanilla Ice plays Mark Twain, so this should tell anyone the overall awfulness this movie accomplishes.

“The Ridiculous Six,” directed by Frank Coraci and starring Adam Sandler and Terry Crews, is another in a long line of terrible Sandler movies.


Tommy “White Knife” Stockburn, a man orphaned by his bank robber father, has lived with Native Americans his entire life. They have taught him their ways and made him an excellent fighter.

His father, Frank, attempts to connect with his son. But Frank’s old gang kidnaps him to get stolen money. It’s up to Tommy, and a band of his half-brothers he meets, to save their father.

It’s easy to blast Sandler. This movie, like most of his recent films, is filled with questionably offensive and stupid humor, incoherent storylines and lazy comedic acting.

So, I’ll be nice and start with the good. One of the minuscule good aspects of this film is the various technical work.

The camera angles of the film are average, if not uninspired, but smaller facets like lighting and sound come off as a good representation of a western film.

For a Sandler film, or a parody in general, this movie goes to great lengths to present a western aesthetic. Whether it be the natural lighting or sound design, it all comes off as a decent attempt at “Unforgiven” or another classic. 

Sandler’s performance is unsurprisingly underwhelming.


This once great comedic actor just doesn’t care anymore. His previous performances were nothing Academy Award worthy, but everything in recent years is disappointing.

In “The Ridiculous Six,” Sandler at least attempts to do a Z-level Clint Eastwood. But his voice and his presence sound like he just woke up.

The dumbed down humor of this flick hits a new low.

Sandler films have never been known for high-brow humor and that’s OK. Not every movie, even a satire, has to be intellectual. 

But with gags about a donkey with magical diarrhea and constant penis jokes, the film seems like it was written by a 15-year-old.

Stars: 1.5 out of 5.  

Jacob Pierce can be reached at [email protected] or at 536-3326.