When I was a child, I absolutely loved the Chipmunks. And like every child born in the eighties, or born at the tail end of the eighties, I adored their covers of classic doo wop and Motown songs, with the squealed high pitch vocals, crude but effective animation and life lessons. And we all knew Alvin was the coolest. At the start of the sentence you’ll notice I said “When I was a Child” I loved the Chipmunks. Now, sitting here at twenty four years old, I long for the old series and find myself kicking my own ass at the fact that this eighties chic throwback entertained me. I won’t point out the logic that a chipmunk can suddenly see thanks to fake glasses conveniently found on a statue, or that Hollywood felt casting all the voices of the Chipmunks with hunky actors would somehow increase the appeal, but hey… I had fun.

As guessed, the producers become so enamored with the pop star angle of the Chipmunks that they forget to broach the fundamentally interesting aspect of the Alvin and the Chipmunks story. The whole point behind David taking in the chipmunks is because he feels his life is empty, and he sees them as surrogate sons that he always wanted, while the chipmunks are abandoned creatures who find a father figure in him. Geeky crap, but it would have turned “Alvin and the Chipmunks” into an infinitely more touching film with a connection to the families it aims to appeal to. As for Jason Lee, he is so void of personality or presence that any sense of character is lost in his mugging and double takes. As David he’s not the least bit a moral center who keep the Chipmunks in line, instead he’s a mugging and goofy straight man who just plays the sap to misdeeds an evil record producer plays on him. Here, Lee is just Earl sans the trailer trash shtick and it’s a real missed opportunity to make Dave into a humane and sweet moral equalizer in these chipmunk children. As for the entire narrative, it’s basically about as predictable as “Josie and the Pussycats” where the group is played as a pawn to an evil record conglomerate and lose touch of who they are. There’s a really routine saccharine attitude toward the characters here, and more so all the heart is lost in an attempt to appeal to the “Hannah Montana” loving rugrats, and ankle biters.

I won't even try to pretend that "Alvin and the Chipmunks" is a masterpiece, but on some strange plain in some unusual mind set, it tickled my funny bone, and I had a fun time, in spite of the giant missed opportunities presented in the name of appealing to the "High School Musical" drones.

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