Of course, the film’s central gimmick—an Israeli hero played by a Jewish-American actor speaking in broken, exaggerated “Isra-li” English—would likely be received very differently today. Critics at the time pointed out the broad ethnic stereotypes (the lusty older Jewish women, the aggressive Arab cab drivers, the villainous white European corporate raider). Sandler’s performance relies on a caricature that borders on offensive, though the film tries to disarm criticism by applying the same goofy energy to every ethnicity it portrays.
Beneath the hummus-throwing fights, jokes about "fizzy bubblech" soda, and an absurd number of crotch-grabbing volleyball scenes, Zohan has a genuine (if clumsy) thesis: the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is absurd, and the average person on both sides just wants to live, work, and enjoy a good haircut.
The premise is pure Sandler absurdity. Zohan Dvir (Sandler) is Israel’s greatest counter-terrorist commando. He can catch bullets in his teeth, outrun an explosion, and defeat any enemy with a roundhouse kick. But Zohan has a secret dream: he wants to cut and style hair, inspired by the legendary stylist Paul Mitchell and a deep love for "sleek, shiny, and silky" locks.
John Turturro, in a hilariously committed performance, plays The Phantom as a tragic, cat-loving warrior who keeps accidentally blowing himself up. The film’s best joke is that he’s actually a better person than Zohan—he just happens to be on the other side.
Looking back over fifteen years later, however, the film is a fascinating time capsule—and arguably one of the most audacious, if uneven, comedies of Sandler’s career.
It’s not subtle. It’s not diplomatic. But in a weird way, it’s earnest.