STARRING: Adam Sandler, Patricia Arquette, Rhys Ifans and Harvey Keitel

If you value your sanity . . . your peace of mind . . . your lunch . . . you will leave "Little Nicky" before you see Clint Howard wearing skanky lingerie and tweaking his nipples. It’s some seriously nasty business. Worse than Linda Blair flying solo with that crucifix in "The Exorcist." Watching Opie’s little brother being all transgender makes you feel sick and dirty inside. Like getting French kissed by your grandma.

And this is supposed to be funny?

Okay, maybe I’m a big stick in the mud. Maybe I just don’t "get" the humor of Adam Sandler. Maybe I’m just a big dumb clod, but I don’t find Clint’s version of "The Crying Game" a huge knee-slapper. It’s not humorous. It’s not a good time. It’s just grotesque and sad.

I'm sure there's an audience out there for this kind of stuff, but they're not up for parole for quite a while.

"Little Nicky" is all those things and a lot more. Watching it is like being around a couple of drunk frat boys cracking each other up at a party. You’re just not in on the joke. They’re burping and farting and being stupid and you’re more embarrassed than amused.

I understand that this is a "lowbrow" comedy. I’m supposed to leave my delicate sensibilities at the door and laugh at the pure outrageousness of it. But it would be nice if "Little Nicky" was both tasteless and funny. The flick did show promise when I saw Jon Lovitz get violated by a giant amorous bird in the opening moments, but then I quickly lost interest. In retrospect, I realize that I enjoyed that bit because I dislike Jon Lovitz not because I like this movie.

Adam Sandler ("Big Daddy") has convinced a talented cast — including Patricia Arquette ("True Romance"), Harvey Keitel ("Pulp Fiction") and Reese Witherspoon ("Election") — to thoroughly humiliate themselves in a retarded tale about the Devil’s spawn and his adventures in the Big Apple. Sandler must have incriminating photographs of these folks because I don’t know how else to explain their presence in this crap.

The movie doesn’t have a bad premise just a flawed execution. Sandler plays Nicky, the goofy youngest son of Satan (Keitel), who is sent to Earth to retrieve his nasty and rebellious brothers (Rhys Ifans from "Notting Hill" and Tiny Lister Jr. from "Next Friday") after they set a plan in motion to overthrow their dad. Playing religious icons for laughs can pay off big. Check out Kevin Smith’s "Dogma" for a winning example. But Sandler never grasps his subject’s true comic potential. He just uses it as a launching pad for lame gags and raunch.

The humor is stupid and uninspired. Sandler and co-screenwriter Tim Herlihy (who also wrote Sandler’s "The Wedding Singer" and "Big Daddy") would rather gross us out than make us laugh. For instance, Nicky receives guidance from a talking dog named Mr. Beefy. When the loquacious canine is not showing Nicky the ropes, he’s partying with strippers, peeing or having his way with a poodle. Now I’m sure there’s an audience out there for this kind of stuff, but they’re not up for parole for quite awhile.

Sandler has convinced a talented cast to thoroughly humiliate themselves with this retarded tale.

And what’s up with all the fried chicken in this flick? Did Popeye’s help finance it? Nicky gets introduced to human food via a bucket of Popeye’s and he’s so enamored of those New Orleans spices that he carts the stuff around for the rest of the film. Product placement is getting out of hand in most movies today, but I think "Little Nicky" is the first one where a product actually plays a supporting role. Not that this is a bad thing. The chicken does give a better performance than some of the cast.

If the chicken ever wants to direct, it certainly couldn’t do any worse than the guy that made this stinker. Director Steven Brill (writer of "The Mighty Ducks" movies and a bit player in "The Wedding Singer") does an adequate job of keeping everything in focus, but that’s about it. He brings no visual style to this movie, giving it all the flair of a TV commercial for toilet bowl cleaner. A look at his resume proves that Brill would have trouble directing traffic.

His last gig behind the camera was "Heavyweights," an insipid kid’s comedy about a fat camp. Whoo-Hoo! Laughing at fat kids! Yeah, that’s a comic gold mine. Somebody throw this guy out of the Director’s Guild before he hurts someone. I get the feeling Brill got the job because he’s Sandler’s pal. In fact, you get that vibe from most of the supporting cast.

This movie makes you feel sick and dirty inside . . . like getting French kissed by your grandma.

Allen Covert (who played Sammy in "The Wedding Singer") shows up as Todd, the effeminate actor that takes Nicky in as a roommate. Peter Dante (one of the gay lawyers from "Big Daddy") and Jonathan Loughran (another lawyer buddy from "Big Daddy") return as two headbangers who befriend Nicky. It’s nice that Sandler puts his friends in his movies, but it makes you feel like you’re watching his home videos rather than a theatrical release.

In that respect, "Little Nicky" reminds me of those Burt Reynolds movies from the early eighties when he got all his friends together to drive really fast. They never made much sense, but everyone looked like they had a good time. Now, I’m glad they had fun, but did we really need a movie about it? With "Little Nicky," it’s like Sandler threw a party and decided to bring along a film crew. You know, there should be more motivation behind a movie than just something to do when the keg is dry.