The new, improved, digitalized, hip-hoppified "Alvin and the Chipmunks" hits theaters today. Another precious childhood memory sacked and burned.
Well, hold on. What Mike Myers and company did to "The Cat in the Hat" a few years back - that was sacrilege. The singing chipmunks, by contrast, were disposable pop-culture cheese when they debuted and have remained so through TV series (early '60s and mid-'80s), big-screen versions ("The Chipmunk Adventure" from 1987, may it rest in pieces), remixes ("Chipmunk Punk," 1980), and reissues. There's only so many times you can hear "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)" before those sped-up rodent harmonies start sounding like dentist drills aimed right at your cerebral cortex.
Blame the late Ross Bagdasarian, who "invented" the chipmunk voices in the 1950s, prompting millions of bored kids to wreck their parents' Bell & Howell tape decks trying to imitate that signature voice. (Today you can get the same effect using computer software. Cheaters.) And blame co-producer Ross Bagdasarian Jr. for extending the family brand into the era of unappetizing digital/ live-action hybrids.
Yes, "Alvin and the Chipmunks," like the "Scooby-Doo" and "Garfield" movies over which it stands as a slight improvement, drops semi-realistic animated critters into a "live" setting, then sits back and considers its job done.
The shocking part is that there are people here who really should know better. Jason Lee, the gifted snarkmaster of "Chasing Amy" and TV's "My Name is Earl," brings his credibility down a few notches by playing Dave Seville, the hapless LA songwriter who discovers three singing, talking chipmunks. Comedian David Cross ("Mr. Show," "Arrested Development") plays the slimy record executive who hijacks the trio in an effort to cash in on their fame.
Gangly rising star Justin Long voices Alvin, the brattiest of the chipmunks. (Matthew Gray Gubler does the honors for brainiac Simon and Jesse McCartney is Theodore, the baby of the bunch.) One of the writers worked on "The Simpsons" and "The Larry Sanders Show"; another wrote for "Ren and Stimpy." The director - oh, wait, the director did the second "Garfield" movie. Never mind.
Anyway, it's to no avail, since the script leans heavily on the pranks and big-eyed cuteness of the li'l guys and leaves the live actors with unfunny dialogue and nothing to do. (Lee sounds hoarse, as if coming off a few days of yelling at his agent.) Still, small children and jaded mallrats will enjoy the choreographed shenanigans, which include the chipmunks dropping a lot of dope top-40 references and indulging in a Hi-NRG dance version of Bagdasarian's classic novelty song "Witch Doctor." (You know it as "Oo Ee Oo Ah Ah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang.")
Here's what burns me, though: The movie serves up this pandering jive because it's "what the kids want," then says it's bad for them and that our furry heroes would be better off in Dave's loving, low-rent analog world. Like most family movies these days, "Alvin" is torn between the glitz that sells and the homilies that endure. It's a load of Ting Tang Wallet-Wallet Bling Blang.
Ty Burr can be reached at tburr@globe.com. For more on movies, go to boston.com/ae/ movies/blog.
