Kickin' It Old Skool

In Kickin' It Old Skool, a sub-numskull uncomedy of parachute pants and coma jokes, Jamie Kennedy plays a witless man-infant who, after spending 20 years as a root vegetable following a break-dancing misadventure, unfortunately reawakens. It's hard to say whether the movie's pinnacle is while Kennedy's unconscious doofus, Justin Schumacher, is still strapped to his hospital bed or when David Hasselhoff pops up in a disturbing cameo.

What did the hip-again '80s do to deserve this puerile homage? Fitting his pasty body into the same puffy pants, rainbow-hued sleeveless T-shirt, and Karate Kid headband he wore as a preteen break-dancer in 1986, Justin vows to pay his parents' medical bills–all while fondling Smurf dolls to REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling" and Styx's "Mr. Roboto". Okay, that's what the '80s did to deserve this.

Late of Son of the Mask and Malibu's Most Wanted, Kennedy appears equally unashamed here, looking unappetizingly middle-aged and playing the reawakened Blue Lagoon fan boy like a Ritalin toddler crossed with a glue-sniffing, horny teenager. It's no surprise that Justin hatches the imbecilic plan to reunite his former posse, The Funky Fresh Boyz, and enter a $100,000 break-dancing contest. No matter that the African-American guy has meanwhile invented "Jewbik's Cube" (as racist as it sounds); the Hispanic dude is now obese (fat break-dancer equals hilarious!); and the Japanese-American cubicle geek "no more likey" to do the Robot.

There's more, woefully. Before Kickin' It galumphs toward the dance competition, Justin encounters his pre-coma crush, Jen (in their school's talent contest she performs an exquisitely offensive interpretation of Jennifer Beals's Flashdance scene), grown up into Access Hollywood's Maria Menounos. Naturally, Jen is engaged to Justin's pre-coma nemesis, Kip (Smallville's Michael Rosenbaum), the contest's host, naturally. Yet Jen wants half-wit Justin. He crows: "I touched her booby!" Nice.

About the only semi-engaging part of Kickin' It is the big dance-off's rad breakers. But after all the unfunny abuse–plus weird, depressing cameos by Emmanuel Lewis and Vivica A. Fox, among others–who even has the energy to "Hassel the Hoff"?