Down-on-his-luck songwriter Dave Seville (Jason Lee) finds three singing rats...oops...chipmunks. The annoying...oops...adorable little creatures help Dave find success and love.

CRITIQUE

In my thirty-seven years on earth I’ve only walked out on one movie, and that movie was Alvin and the Chipmunks. Let me give you a little perspective so you’ll know exactly how momentous that event was. I actually sat all the way through Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn. I actually sat all the way through The Guardian (the William Friedkin horror flick about the crazy nanny and the hungry tree, not the one with Kevin and Kelso). I actually sat all the way through Howard the Duck. I actually sat all the way through Jaws 3-D.

Finally, I sat all the way through a shameless Italian Jaws rip-off named Great White. (I was fortunate enough to see it before a lawsuit filed by Universal caused it to be yanked from theaters, a fact I hope is mentioned in my eulogy.) I sat through all of those, but I just couldn’t bring myself to make it through Alvin and the Chipmunks. Hell, I could have been watching this thing on the International Space Station and I would have walked out. I honestly think a little piece of my soul died as I was walking out of that theater back in early January.

Here’s a little background: I saw this movie six days after my father died. I went to see it with my mother (who for reasons that remain unclear thought it would be “cute”) and my nine-year-old nephew (who’ll see anything as long as someone else is paying), primarily because I knew she needed as many of us around at all times as was possible. Anyway, I guess I made it through about an hour or so, wanting to claw my eyes out the whole time, and wondering why in the hell the little kids in the packed theater were lapping it up.

Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore, and without saying a word to my mother or nephew I got up, walked out, and spent the next half an hour or so waiting for them in the car. As I sat there waiting, I started thinking about the night I spent with my father while he was in the hospital, one day after he was first admitted and nine days before he passed away. That was one of the worst nights of my life, watching as the cancer brought on by more than fifty years of smoking ate him alive and the side effects of his first (and only) chemotherapy treatment sent him into a state of dementia, knowing--despite what anyone at the time thought--there was nothing that could be done for him.

Now here’s the thing that will probably get me my own special reserved section in Hell: For a brief moment I wanted to go back to that night, not so I could see my father again or for any altruistic reasons, but so that when the opportunity to see Alvin and the Chipmunks presented itself again, this time I would opt out. I know how that makes me look, but understand that I often use humor, sardonic or otherwise, to get by in stressful situations. That being said, there’s still a lot of truth in that sentiment, and sharing it is the best way I know of imparting just how unbearably awful this travesty is.  

The movie, for me at least, is completely devoid of entertainment value. The plot is hopelessly predictable and contrived. The laughs are nonexistent. The acting is atrocious. The music is horrible. I am still dumbfounded by just how awful the whole enterprise is. You’d think three rodents singing “Bad Day” would have to be the low point of any movie that dares to include such a scene (my apologies to any Daniel Powter fans, but that song triggers my gag reflex), but that’s not the case here.

No, ladies and gentleman, there are even worse moments than that sprinkled throughout Alvin and the Chipmunks, moments so bad that just mentioning them is likely to cause destruction and woe of Biblical proportions. So in order to prevent a premature end to life as we know it, I’ll quit while the quitting is good.

I’d like to close this section of the review by giving you the opinions of my movie-going companions. My mother has since apologized several times for asking me to go. My nephew has taken to referring to the movie with a three-word phrase I will not repeat here, mainly because I don’t want anyone to know he learned said phrase from me.

But hey, if you’re in the mood for burping rodents, a collection of seriously slumming actors turning in painfully obvious in-it-for-the-money performances, and some of the worst music this side of one of Shaq’s rap albums, feel free to ignore my family’s consensus.

THE VIDEO

The 1.85/1080p transfer adequately captures the movie’s uninspired visuals. Colors are so bright and hot they don’t resemble any hue you’ll find in nature, and blacks are generally strong. Contrast has been dialed up to an absurd level, which adds to the cartoonish quality of the presentation. The illusion of depth and the level of detail are somewhat lacking in the CG-heavy sequences, which look to have been softened and flattened in hopes of blurring the rough edges of the effects (I recall noticing this in the theater, too).

THE AUDIO

The DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 also adequately captures the rote sound design. Things are generally front-heavy until the rodent shenanigans or cringe-worthy songs (would it have killed them to come up with more than one synthesized beat?) kick in, at which time the surrounds and low end come into play. Dialogue is always clear and intelligible (which--given what’s being said--isn’t always a good thing). Spanish and French Dolby Digital 5.1 tracks are also included; English, Spanish, Cantonese, Mandarin, and Korean subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

Hitting the Harmony (9 minutes) is a behind-the-scenes look at the creation of the movie’s music. It’s dumbed down for the kiddies, which means you get a lot of nonsense from the participants about how much fun the work was and how they strove to keep the music edgy and relevant.

Chip-Chip Hooray (12 minutes) is an overview of the Chipmunks’ history, from their initial creation in 1958 on through their bored deejay-inspired resurgence in the 1980s and second cartoon series.

(Speaking of that era, I actually had a copy of Chipmunk Punk--their comeback album--when I was ten; not counting the hand-me-down 8-Track of Hotel California my bother gave me, it was the first album I ever owned. I didn’t really want to hear squeaky version of songs by The Cars, The Knack, and Blondie, but I did want to see if I could talk my parents into wasting eight bucks on something that stupid.)

FINAL THOUGHT

Did I mention that I walked out on this thing? Alvin and the Chipmunks gets my vote as not only the worst movie of 2007, but also of this decade.