Yours, Mine & Ours: Critic Reviews

The modern soft edges only accentuate the datedness of the premise.

So snug, airtight and insulated from reality that the nice, well-scrubbed Cheaper by the Dozen seems almost rambunctious by comparison.

Raja Gosnell's direction follows the first rule of slapstick: If actor stuck with nothing to do, have them fall in vat of goo.

Yes, this groaner retreads the ground of the middling-at-best 1968 movie of the same name.

The characters are kept simple, completely one-dimensional.

Yours, Mine & Ours is the movie equivalent of a box of generic macaroni and cheese: bland, easily digested, comforting, forgettable.

[A] shrill family comedy.

There are just so many jokes you can make about who gets to use the bathroom when.

If you're determined to adore each heavy-handed gag, relish the story line's utter simplicity and bathe in the glow of its calculated warmth, you may tolerate Yours, Mine & Ours.

There's not a moment in this story arc that is not predictable.

Yours, Mine & Ours isn't so much a movie as it is scene after scene of [Dennis] Quaid getting pelted with paint, food and other associated goo. But even as slapstick, it's a major snoozefest.

I'm partial to Quaid and Russo, but there are limits.

Flimsily scripted.

The frenzy peters out, leaving youngsters as bored as their parents.

Yours, Mine and Ours is indeed recycled garbage, but it's fairly harmless recycled garbage. It's certainly not enough to make you gag. Set your standards low, and the worst you should get is a hiccup or two.

In watching Yours, Mine & Ours, you have to wonder what the director had against star Dennis Quaid.

Not a fresh insight or genuine laugh in sight. Nothing here, in fact, for you, him, her, yours, mine, theirs or anybody's.

Generally pleasant family-friendly fare.

Largely laugh-free.

Culture clash, the military organizer versus Ms. 'Free to be you and me,' makes for some cute bits, most of them slapstick. There just aren't enough of them.

... it loses a good deal of humour along with its social relevance.

Watching Dennis Quaid falling face down into vats of goop, getting kissed by a pig and talking baby talk in Yours, Mine and Ours is one of those experiences that causes you to question your faith in Hollywood's motives.

Blandly wishy-washy.

Synthetic, strained and noisy.

Regardless of a distinct lack of romantic chemistry between Dennis Quaid and Rene Russo, the able-bodied actors fulfill the slapstick demands of this run-of-the-mill family comedy based on the 1968 movie with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball.