Animal Hospital

By R.C.

YOUNG DOCTORS IN LOVE Directed by Garry Marshall Screenplay by Michael Elias and Rich Eustis

The IV bottles hold goldfish and pickles. The EKG machine beeps out themes from Rocky, Jaws, Close Encounters and Pac-Man. The chief pathologist tells his students: "There are more than 20 bodily fluids, and I am proud to say I have tasted every one of them." A poodle and a boxer, both wearing yarmulkes, sit mournfully by the graveside of one Spot Moskowitz. Steven Ford, once a President's son, now a soap-opera regular, gets bopped on the head with a food tray. "Attention," a metallic voice announces over the hospital speaker system, "E.T., phone home."

Dumb marches on. The insidious movement to anesthetize the American moviegoer's mind, which began with Animal House, picked up converts with the Cheech and Chong farces and came close to sweeping the country with Porky 's, may now triumph with Young Doctors in Love. The picture is just gross and artless (and canny) enough in its flat, untextured sitcom way to attract millions of eleven-year-olds who have left their brains in their classrooms. Its humor is based on brand-name recognition: if you're aware of the particular movie, video game or soap being burlesqued, you will respond. Audiences, even young ones, should show some self-control and boycott Young Doctors. That way, we may at least be spared a sequel. -- R.C.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.