Underdog is the kind of family film that reminds me why I hate so many of them. Shot as a live-action, digital-effects remake of the TV cartoon, this one is more like those Brady Bunch comedies of the 90s: Whoever shot this thing never watched the kiddie show, probably didn't like it, and thought it would be more fun to shred it. But like the pure pansies they are, they instead gave us a comic reinvention of the story that is neither satirical, sardonic or authentic. This film is like those reunion bands that are only legitimate in the most legalistic sense: The producer who put these clowns on stage happens to own the rights to the name. Any further similarity between the old and the new is "purely coincidental."

The TV show was, admittedly, a campy affair, but one its audience never seemed to notice. Underdog was both superhero and screw-up (sort of like FEMA). Patterned after Superman, Underdog had his mild-mannered existence, the shoeshine boy, one shaken into action by the cartoon's version of Lex Luthor, Simon Bar Sinister. Just as Superman got his game on to save Lois Lane, Underdog was frequently called in to protect TV reporter, Polly Purebred. To the folks pitching, and greenlighting, what was essentially "Superdog," it must have made sense to throw a wrench in the works - by making their "super" a "screwper," hence the name, "Underdog." But if the bare outline of the show - with its fallible hero and character names straight out of Mad Magazine - the original show was actually pretty tame. The average viewer, including myself, took it all at face value. (Little kids watching Saturday morning cartoons are not big on satire or spoof.)

Underdog was watchable because: (1) it was a cartoon; (2) it had a dog; (3) the dog fought crimes using superpowers and (4) the alternative was watching football. Again, four-year-olds are not the most discriminating audience. Case in point: Teletubbies, Barney, Little Bear and Oobie. Underdog was a Hanna-Barbara paper-doll equivalent of Oobie, yet I watched it - like so many children growing up in '74 - because, to a young child, football sucks.

But the remake is a mish-mash laugh at the show, aimed largely at my generation (now in their thirties and forties) but schlocky enough to be resold to our children. Instead of animation, it goes for actual footage of a trained dog, its barks modified by digital effects and with the voice of Jason Lee. If you thought the original singing of Polly Purebred was annoying, just try to listen to five minutes of a dog running down the street with Jason Lee in your ear. In the meantime, Simon Bar Sinister (Peter Dinklage) has been turned into a midget, with midget jokes throw in for good measure (how classy). Polly Purebred has been reduced to Polly (Amy Adams), a romantic interest for Underdog but without the original cartoon's vision of a canine Lois Lane.

In fact, while the TV show took Superman and recast it in canine terms, the movie simply grabs the idea of a dog invested with superpowers, due to an experiment gone awry (and conducted at the top of a New York City skyscraper). It doesn't want to do a canine version of Superman. It, instead, wants to ask the barebones question: What would a dog do if it had superpowers? But then it follows the dog around as if it were a real dog (not a cartoon character). And since real dogs aren't treated as anything but pets, the focus has to shift to a human being. That human being is Dan Unger (James Belushi), a building custodian who has issues of his own.

But does anybody care about a building custodian? To the extent this becomes Dan's story, it's a snorefest, to be enlivened by super-silliness on steroids. If the jokes were better, Underdog would be about something more than a digitized dog voicing the words of Jason Lee as it flies through the air and creates warmhearted collateral damage.

This film is yet another example of what Disney can do with enough money, enough fireworks and enough thumbusters pushing distributors around. If it didn't have Disney backing, it would be called Dead Dog, which is a better title, anyway.

Writers Adam Rifkin (Small Soldiers), Craig A. Williams and Joe Piscatella, should all take a shower - preferably with one another. Director Frederik Du Chau (Racing Stripes) has proved he can shoot digital-effects animals, with celebrity voices, with lots of energy. He just can't make any of this stuff worth watching.

And yet, even as I speak, I'm reminded that my three-year-old enjoyed the Hell out of Underdog. What do I know?