Review: Aliens in the Attic

As a kid, I was absurdly unpicky about my entertainment: shoddy '80s anime, reruns of This Old House, staring cross-eyed at our basement's pegboard wall to achieve a Magic Eye 3-D effect — these were all totally acceptable ways of whiling away an afternoon. But even when I was a five-year-old with a coma victim's attention span, I would have passed on John Schultz's execrable Aliens in the Attic.

It has the kind of agonizingly lame Three's Company–style premise that's always driven me nuts: a pack of scrappy rug rats must save the universe from hostile invaders, all while keeping it a secret from their parents, who include Kevin Nealon and Andy Richter. And no amount of shitty CGI or possible-statutory-rape jokes can save it.

If you're one of the unfortunate adults roped into seeing this dreck, here's a suggestion: stave off brain death by playing "Which Academy-Award-Nominated B-Lister Is Doing That Alien's Voiceover?"