IT'S the Eighties. Kids are sporting hairdressing disasters, yuppies are on the make, the Rubics cube remains unsolved and the New Romantics rule the airwaves. Makes you cringe to think about it, doesn't it? It gets worse.

"The Wedding Singer", as the name implies, is also set against a backdrop of small town wedding receptions. You know, the kind that end up with the best man spilling some beans about the groom before collapsing in a drunken heap beside the vomiting teenager and the waitress who is escaping the octogenarian bottom-pincher.

At the centre of the proceedings is the unflappable, nicer-than-nice Robbie (Adam Sandler), a rock singer turned wedding singer, who is giftted with a lazy charm that can put even the most rocky wedding party back on the rails.

Drew Barrymore plays Julia, the romantic, sparkly eyed waitress, new to the whole wedding job malarky, and finding it all a bit fretful. Early on we learn that she is waiting for her long-term stock broker boyfriend to get down on bended knee. Robbie, too, is waiting to be wed to his long term girlfriend. But you know from the first exchange between Robbie and Julia that... well, you just know... and the plot takes the usual twist and turn en route to destination feel-good.

The story is nothing new, but the comic elements make this a cut above the usual romantic goo. Although, occasionally I was lost by a few of the cultural references (donut ads, television references, etc), Eighties America seems to have been pretty much the same as here - same music (Culture Club, Human League, Kajagoogoo et al), same dreadful fashions, same materialistic trip. You have to laugh.

Sandler is a clever dead pan and plays the cuddly smoothie without being too cloying. The effervescent Barrymore plays it straight, and thanks to her spirited performance the romance really blossoms. Occasionally, the comedy tries too hard and hits the ground with a thud and a groan. But the rest of the time, the film is as light as a feather.