• Directed by Brett Thompson
• Written by Wili Baronet and Lisa Morton
• Starring
  • Omri Katz
  • Shawn Hoffman
  • Tiffanie Poston
  • Pete Koch
  • Megan Hughes

Of all of the damnable memes in Tinseltown, this is one of the most pernicious:

“It’s just for kids — it doesn’t have to be good.”

(I’m starting to fear that the meme is spreading to all target age groups — but that’s a discussion that will get us nowhere.)

Granted, it’s easy to see how some Hollywood types could come away with that idea, especially those who aren’t paying close enough attention because they’re distracted by visions of dollar signs dancing like sugarplums in their heads. Children’s fare doesn’t have to be groundbreaking; they haven’t seen it all already. And repetition is good for them, helping them recognize and identify themes and patterns that reflect both the way the world does work, and the way it should work. A good children’s movie, then, won’t display originality so much as it will reinforce common themes and ideas with enough novelty to catch the audience’s attention and make the production of yet another movie nominally worthwhile.

“Hey, honey — remember the time we did this in Atlantic City?”

However, if you’re anything like the criminals-among-us responsible for Adventures in Dinosaur City, then the preceding paragraph was just (sigh) too many, like, words and everything. It’s so much simpler to condense it down to “It doesn’t have to be good,” and hey — that philosophy still managed to produce a movie that could sit in a video box on a rental shelf and lure unsuspecting consumers to lay down money to rent it, so where’s the foul, right?

The beginning is innocuous enough. Pubescent Timmy (Omri Katz) is hanging out with his two slightly older friends, Mick (Shawn Hoffman) and Jamie (Tiffanie Poston), who may or may not have teenagerly feelings for one another. What binds the threesome is their devotion to the TV show Dinosaurs (a Flintstones-ish animated show, no relation to the ABC TV series), which they collect on videotape and write fanfics about.

It just so happens that Timmy’s parents are scientists, the kind that make earth-shattering discoveries in their garage lab. Well, more “orange-shattering” in this case, as their grand experiment seems to revolve around an orange, a widescreen TV, and some leftover graphics from The Black Hole. Apparently, they can warp the laws of time and space and send the orange into “somewhere,” from which it emerges exactly the same, only smushed. (By the way, I’m unconvinced that there’s actually science going on here, as there are no beakers of colored liquids. The husband is wearing a bowtie, though. And they DO have an orange.)

Catty, Bratty, and Whiny.

Leaving for a conference to announce their findings (a new way to fresh-squeeze orange juice?), they leave their equipment running so it’ll be all warmed up for their next test when they get back, and warn Timmy not to go into the lab while they’re gone.

Alas, the allure of the forbidden fruit proves too strong for Timmy. Plus, here’s an opportunity to watch the new episode of Dinosaurs on the widescreen. So he and his friends go downstairs and…

…The whole movie goes immediately to hell. Up to now, it hasn’t been great, but it’s at least been an okay ripoff of the setup from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. But now that they’re in the lab, we’re forced to swallow the following:

• That the experiment does indeed revolve around a widescreen TV.
• That a necessary part of the equipment is also a VCR, into which Timmy sticks the tape.
• That when Timmy clicks the button on the remote, the impressive lasershow blasts the kids into the screen, and into a live-action version of the Dinosaurs TV show.

“’80s hair” actually predated the ’80s by millions of years.

They end up in a well-lit cave, meeting one of the TV characters, Forry, the flightless pterodactyl (played alternately by a handpuppet and a rodpuppet), who runs the power station that cools the lava that would otherwise threaten the existence of Saur City. But lo and behold, a a gang of Neanderthal “Rockies” with costumes stolen from the extras of the Flintstones movies and Jersey accents bursts in and steals the single fuse which controls the whole shebang, and without which the lava will overheat and destroy everything.

The kids and Forry, then, have no choice but to traipse over to Tar Town to enlist the heroes of the TV show, Rex (a tyrannosaur) and Tops (a ceratopsid) to help steal back the fuse from Mr. Big, the allosaur (with a horn on his nose) boss of the Rockies. And this is the absolute last time that the kids’ knowledge of the TV show will be of any benefit to them.

Because first they have to go through the “Extinction Grove” graveyard, which none of them knew about. Then they find Rex and Tops in a bad approximation of the Mos Eisley cantina, but they’re hardened gamblers with no need for heroics. Then after some more Rockies burst in for a barfight, Rex and Tops decide to help, but there’s this whole long complex backstory about Rex’s father and the allosaurs which, once again, the kids knew nothing about.

“Somebody hold down my agent.”

It makes you really really wish you could forget that the “entering the TV series” bit were a big part of the premise, and instead pretend that they had just time-traveled to a “comically” modern version of prehistory. But then Timmy throws out little bon mots like, “Maybe everything we make up is alive somewhere else,” just to prove that someone in charge of making this travesty was actually proud of their little conceit.

What else? Well, Timmy discovers late in the game that the remote from his parents’ lab can pause and rewind the people and dinosaurs he aims it at (and obliterate them, though I’m not sure how — that button’s not on MY remote), which becomes the driving force of the plot for the last half hour. Oh, and there’s a big tearful resolution to the inane backstory of Rex’s father and the allosaur conquerors. And darned if everyone doesn’t end up learning a little bit about themselves.

Urg.

The dinosaur suits are a full order of magnitude below those in the for-real Dinosaurs TV series, the music simply screams, “I wanna be Richard Band when I grow up!”, and there are stupid little anachronisms thrown in for absolutely no reason except to stick in my craw. For instance, one of the caveman Rockies says derisively, “Well, aren’t you a little Einstein,” with no hint that this is meant as a wink or knowing nod to the audience. It’s just there because without it, the proceedings just didn’t seem stupid enough.

“Nuh-uh, kid! You’re not getting out of this movie that easily!”

Is there any redeeming factor to this movie? Yes, of a sort. When Jamie’s “comically” oversized glasses get knocked off and stepped on (by Mick, naturally) during the barfight, she turns out to be something of a cutie, and not terribly annoying (the actress’ career ended immediately thereafter, so I can’t tell you how she does when given a half-decent script). In fact, none of the child actors are particularly odious; considering the parts they were given, their performances are remarkably good. I can easily imagine older, more experienced actors being reduced to tears by having to carry scenes this bad. At least the performers in the dino suits got to weep behind a mask.

Oh, and one other redeeming factor. By the half-hour mark, it was apparent even to my five-year-old that this movie was utter crap. So we all engaged in a good ol’-fashioned round of heckling for the rest of it. It was a precious moment of family togetherness, such as only an insipid piece of juvenile-aimed crap can afford.

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 5
• breasts: 0
• explosions: 1
• ominous thunderstorms: 1
• dwarfs: 1
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 2
  • Steven W. Anderson (“Gil” — was that the dad?) played “Dr. Nilrem” in the TNG episode “First Contact” (not to be confused with the movie)
  • Paul Eiding (the voice of “King”) played “Ambassador Loquel” in the TNG episode “Liaisons”