If the main actors had been Alice Drummond and Billy Bush, rather than having them as bit parts, this film would've been infinitely more entertaining.
Of course, then you would also need some writers with at least SOME presence of mind between them. Someone also needed to tell the director that animals with CGI mouths that move, and constantly make whining human noises, are just CREEPY. And CHEESY. They're CHREEPY. Leave them out. Let them be their real animal selves -- just as cute, just as funny.
As for the other actors, Brooke Shields' performance as the wife/mother is embarrassing to watch, as is that of the son. I swear that in some of Brendan Frasier's scenes, you can actually see a glimmer of self-consciousness in his eyes, of a properly mortified "Have I come to this?".
The occasional humorous moments are quickly drowned in extravagance. It's as if the writers became so enamored with their own comedic genius that when they wrote a single, small funny moment they immediately tried to top it, over and over -- the results, being something like having your older brother's friend come over and make increasingly louder farting sounds in his armpit, over and over, even though no one is laughing.
There is a message of "green" or "environmental preservation" in this film, but it is so hypocritical and diluted that its presence feels more like the blatant leeching of a trend, rather than sincere feeling or conscious action. I like to imagine what this film would've been if it had been made as a horror or disaster film, rather than a would-be family comedy.
Still, the worst thing one can say about a movie is that it was boring. This one did at least hold my attention long enough to be mentally present for the few-and-far-between humorous moments (almost all belonging to Alice Drummond and Billy Bush).
Of course, then you would also need some writers with at least SOME presence of mind between them. Someone also needed to tell the director that animals with CGI mouths that move, and constantly make whining human noises, are just CREEPY. And CHEESY. They're CHREEPY. Leave them out. Let them be their real animal selves -- just as cute, just as funny.
As for the other actors, Brooke Shields' performance as the wife/mother is embarrassing to watch, as is that of the son. I swear that in some of Brendan Frasier's scenes, you can actually see a glimmer of self-consciousness in his eyes, of a properly mortified "Have I come to this?".
The occasional humorous moments are quickly drowned in extravagance. It's as if the writers became so enamored with their own comedic genius that when they wrote a single, small funny moment they immediately tried to top it, over and over -- the results, being something like having your older brother's friend come over and make increasingly louder farting sounds in his armpit, over and over, even though no one is laughing.
There is a message of "green" or "environmental preservation" in this film, but it is so hypocritical and diluted that its presence feels more like the blatant leeching of a trend, rather than sincere feeling or conscious action. I like to imagine what this film would've been if it had been made as a horror or disaster film, rather than a would-be family comedy.
Still, the worst thing one can say about a movie is that it was boring. This one did at least hold my attention long enough to be mentally present for the few-and-far-between humorous moments (almost all belonging to Alice Drummond and Billy Bush).