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If yours is a stubborn sense of disbelief--if you groaned your way through
Gilligan's Island fixated on why Ginger brought along all those evening gowns for a three-hour tour--expect acute frustration from
Beverly Hills Family Robinson. Any film that tries to float a spoiled celebrity and her disaffected family who find personal and material fulfillment plus the equipment to whip up coconut sorbet on a deserted South Pacific island, after all, is doomed to leave you feeling duped. Let the tide role in on an overdeveloped sense of what's plausible, though, and this movie proves a watertight choice for families--it's a feel-good, gag-fueled escapist fantasy full of bona-fide TV stars. Dyan Cannon, her familiar blonde-poodle mop poking out from under a straw hat, is alluring as ever as Marcia Robinson, a snarly, way-less-prim Martha Stewart; Sarah Michelle Gellar is the hipper-than-thou daughter who's had it with the phoniness of her mom's TV-ready existence; and Martin Mull is the spunky son thwarted in his attempts to be a regular kid. Their orthodontist dad doesn't mind much when what's meant to be a working vacation--Marcia's dispatched to tape a tropical segment--ends in disaster. Sure, a trio of pirate buffoons hijacks their yacht and they're soon shipwrecked, but some quality family time is in store. Everybody bands together, including the Robinsons and a smart-alecky parrot, a prankster of a crab, and a surfer-dude castaway-cum-carpenter--and before you can say Crusoe, a five-star tree house takes shape. Come rescue time, Marcia's no longer too big for her waterlogged britches, and togetherness reigns--a result that'll extend to families who call a time-out to gather round the tube for this well-acted, light-as-a-feather flick from Disney television.
--Tammy La Gorce
