There is always something funny going on between scenes with Adam

“There is always something funny going on between scenes with Adam Sandler. He's always cracking jokes and yelling at people for no reason. It's pretty funny. He'll joke around during scenes, too. When he guest-starred on 'Jessie,' there was nothing in the script that he said first take.” — so spoke Cameron Boyce, the young actor whose life and light touched many before leaving this world too soon. His words, though playful and filled with laughter, reveal something profound about the nature of joy, creativity, and the sacred art of play. For in his description of Adam Sandler, we glimpse a truth the ancients themselves would have recognized: that the spirit of humor is not mere foolishness, but a kind of divine freedom, a force that loosens the chains of fear and restores the soul to its natural state of wonder.

When Boyce says that Sandler is “always cracking jokes and yelling at people for no reason,” he paints the picture of a man whose energy overflows — not out of anger, but out of life’s abundance. This is the laughter of the free spirit, one who has never forgotten the child within. The ancients told of such figures: jesters, fools, and tricksters who, through their mischief, revealed truths that even kings dared not speak. In Greek myth, Hermes, the messenger god, was such a spirit — clever, irreverent, and full of mischief, yet vital to the balance of the cosmos. So too, in the realm of art and acting, the comedian stands as a messenger of joy, reminding us that the sacred and the silly are not opposites, but companions in the great dance of life.

In Boyce’s memory of Sandler, we also see a deeper lesson about creativity. “There was nothing in the script that he said first take,” he recalls — and here lies the wisdom of improvisation. The ancients taught that true art arises not from rigid control, but from the marriage of discipline and spontaneity. The sculptor shapes the marble, but it is the living impulse within that guides his hand. Likewise, Sandler’s art — his instinct to joke, to invent, to stray from the written page — is an embodiment of that living impulse. He trusts the moment. He allows laughter to lead, just as Socrates once allowed questions to lead him to truth.

Cameron Boyce, young as he was, recognized this magic. To him, these moments were not chaos, but joy made visible — the unplanned beauty that arises when one dares to be fully present. Between the lines of his quote, there is admiration, even awe, for an artist who refuses to treat his craft as labor, but instead as play. The ancients believed that the gods smiled upon those who worked with joy, for they understood that play is the purest form of creation. To laugh while creating is to align oneself with the energy of life itself — to remember that all great works, even the serious ones, are born from love, curiosity, and delight.

When Boyce says, “There is always something funny going on between scenes,” he is not merely describing Sandler’s antics — he is describing a way of being. Between the formalities of work, between the rehearsed moments and the expectations, there exists a sacred space where the heart is allowed to breathe. That is where laughter dwells. The ancients would have called this the “interval of grace,” the moment between acts when the soul renews itself. To fill that space with humor is to remind others that life, no matter how structured or demanding, is still alive with surprise.

And yet, beneath the laughter lies a gentler wisdom — one that both Sandler and Boyce embodied in their own ways. Laughter is love made audible. It binds people together, dissolves barriers, and restores humanity to even the most professional of spaces. In the ancient courts, the fool was often the only one allowed to speak the truth, for his humor softened the sting of honesty. In the same way, Sandler’s humor disarms, connects, and awakens. It is not rebellion against the script — it is a reminder that art, like life, cannot be caged by it.

So let this teaching be carried forward: Keep laughter alive, especially in the spaces between the serious. Do not let routine or fear strip the world of its playfulness. Whether in your work, your art, or your daily life, make room for the funny thing that happens “between scenes.” Improvise. Surprise yourself. Find joy even when there seems to be none written into the script. For laughter is not the enemy of meaning — it is its companion. It is the heartbeat of the living soul, the proof that even in the structure of life’s performance, the spirit remains wild, spontaneous, and beautifully human.