50 First Dates, a romantic comedy about a man trying to woo a woman with short-term memory loss, seems to have a disorder of its own -- a split personality. Rarely have the words "romantic" and "comedy" felt more unnaturally forced together than in this latest Adam Sandler vehicle, mainly due to the movie's total failure as a comedy.

From its beginning moments featuring a procession of women talking about how Sandler's character, Henry Roth, got away after giving them each an unforgettable date, to the following scenes fleshing out Henry's life as a Hawaiian caretaker of sea animals, the movie strains -- really strains -- to get laughs. It trots out an androgynous character for us to chuckle at before quickly resorting to a walrus vomiting on said character. Maybe some of this will work for you, maybe it won't, but the feeling of forced jokes is thick and inescapable here. About a quarter of the way in, you may start wondering what you're missing on TV that night.

And then something miraculous happens: Drew Barrymore shows up. After an introductory scene, the audience gets the full details of the story of her character, Lucy -- because of an accident, her short-term memory now only lasts a day, resetting after sleep, and her father (Blake Clark) and brother (Sean Astin) have been setting up each successive day so that she'll live the same October day over and over again. Thus, she won't have to deal with the crushing truth about her life, which she'll only forget, running the risk of being devastated again.

After falling for Lucy and then learning about her condition, Henry resolves to win and somehow keep her affection. But his efforts engender less sympathy than Lucy's plight itself, which Barrymore plays to heartbreaking effect, her display of pluck serving to highlight the sadness in having such a fate befall such a lively person. Tellingly, when she's in the picture, the forced humor falls by the wayside, making way for some genuinely touching humor and poignant moments.

Unfortunately, Barrymore's performance is not enough to hide how badly the movie is put together. Here's a story that feels like its two sides were sloppily stapled to each other without one having consideration for the other. Sandler's character exemplifies this all on his own -- he's supposed to be a commitment-phobic, love-'em-and-leave-'em ladies' man -- at least that's how he's written. But since we only see him being good-natured and treating his pursuit of Lucy with the utmost nobility, we can't distinguish his supposed transformation from cad to caring lover. For the whole time, the guy's a saint, so if the movie was ever interested in displaying his conflict or growth, it does a lazy job by simply telling us one thing while showing us another.

All eyes and hearts are therefore drawn to Barrymore's Lucy, and perhaps we could concentrate on what she has to offer the story if the film didn't keep distracting us with more out-of-place dopey jokes. Her brother is the target of multiple cheap shots, from his steroids use to his lisp. Animals try to steal scenes by being cute. And the humor at the expense of a character named "10-second Tom" borders on deplorable.

In the face of all this, Barrymore defies the odds. She takes the worst aspect of this movie -- its high concept of exploiting the now tired plot device of short-term memory loss -- and makes its effects believable. Her ability to turn that stale gimmick into a potentially winning element almost redeems the movie. Almost. She skillfully drives the romantic side of the film, but its comedy side clearly belongs in another flick.  Without Barrymore, 50 First Dates wouldn't have gotten past the first date.

(Released by Columbia Pictures and rated "PG-13" for crude sexual humor and drug references.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.