Justin Timberlake had “Trolls.” Rihanna has “Smurfs.” Now, we patiently await a “Gummi Bears” with the Biebs.
But first we have “Smurfs,” which, like “Trolls,” gets as much mileage as it can from its pop singer-voice actor. Rihanna voices Smurfette and supplies a new song, giving a half-hearted injection of star power to an otherwise uninspired, modestly scaled, kiddo-friendly cartoon feature.
“Smurfs,” directed by Chris Miller (“Puss in Boots,” “Shrek the Third”), cribs heavily from the “Trolls” playbook. Both feature brightly colored little forest creatures that like a good tune. In the opening of “Smurfs,” Papa Smurf (John Goodman) is DJing for a dancing Smurf Village.
As the many Smurfs gyrate next to mushroom houses, you might find yourself wondering how we got here. And what exactly is a Smurf anyway? It’s been nearly 70 years since Belgian comic artist Peyo created “Les Schtroumpfs,” though most of those still familiar with the little blue fellas remember them from the 1980s Hanna-Barbera cartoons.
The Smurfs have never really transcended their Saturday morning cartoon origins. Neither a pair of live-action hybrid movies in the early 2010s or a 2017 animated release have done much more than keep us vaguely aware of what a Phrygian cap is.
And “Smurfs” is unlikely to change that. The best thing that can be said for the latest attempt to reboot the blue Belgian beings is that it maintains the light feel of a morning cartoon. Even with a brief SpongeBob SquarePants short running ahead of it, “Smurfs” — seemingly designed to be the least ambitious of all possible parent-child outings — passes in about 90 minutes.
The pressing issue in Miller’s film is that one Smurf, No Name Smurf (James Corden), lacks a defining feature. There are so many other labels already taken that all that’s left for him are Clog Making Smurf and Shark Taming Smurf — and neither of those is promising, either.
When No Name Smurf suddenly grows magical powers, he gets a boost in confidence but inadvertently sets off a dangerous chain reaction. The burst of magic reveals the location of Smurf Village and a long-hidden magical book that, if reunited with three others, confers world domination. (Fun fact: This is also what happens if you reunify all first editions of James Joyce’s “Ulysses.”)
The outburst brings the attention of the evil wizard Razamel, brother of Gargamel. (Both are excellently voiced by JP Karliak.) And the Smurfs are cast into a chase through dimensions to rescue the kidnapped Papa Smurf and prevent Razamel from seizing the fourth book. The trip takes them through Paris, Munich, Australia and, briefly, Claymation.
The zaniness is often forced. There are also Koosh ball-like creatures named Snooter Poots with a leader named Mama Poot (Natasha Lyonne). And if you were ever hoping to hear Rihanna sing, as a Smurf, from the seat of a kangaroo pouch, your movie has finally arrived.
But any expectations of something more quickly dissipate, despite the fact that “Smurfs” was scripted by Pam Brady, the screenwriter of “Hot Rod” and co-writer of “Team America: World Police.” Most of the attempts at adult-winking gags are hackneyed jokes about Zoom, podcasting, spam filters and LinkedIn.
You can almost feel IP-rights pressures animating the entire enterprise. See, there are other Smurf names out there. What about Corporate Mandate Smurf?
