Like, it’s presented as this wholesome thing where Adam Sandler finds a creative solution to make his relationship with Drew Barrymore work, but if you think about this from her perspective it quickly becomes a hellish nightmare.

Realistically, she isn’t truly able to consent to sex. Yet she wakes up every morning in a strangers house with a VHS tape playing where this random guy she does not recall ever meeting explains her situation. He claims to be her husband and the father of her children who she has no memory of ever having. If I were her, I’d very quickly assume I was drugged and kidnapped by some nutcase, then I’d try to flee the house in any way possible.