The trailer for Disney’s “Meet the Robinsons” looks like an ad for an animated children’s TV show.

Nothing fancy, simplistic comedy, visual noise.

In other words, a lot of appeal to 7-year-olds.

Shame on the trailer people: The film is much better than their off-putting teaser.

Short version: While the 3-D - a strong selling point - tale of a brainy orphan (who’s a whiz at inventing) travels into the future to find the mother he never knew starts out on a grade-school level, it evolves into a surprisingly smart story likely to appeal to all ages (who are young at heart and patient).

Strong stories, few as they are, tend to remain in the minds of Oscar voters, so “Meet the Robinsons” is a likely Oscar nominee despite a handful of derivative sequences.

But with “Shrek 3″ due out this year, I wouldn’t put any money on “Robinsons” winning.

On the positive side, the touching comedy’s characters are, as a group, more whimsical than in other recent Disney animated films, and they show a smidgen more depth.

The characters drive the frenetic story, which is more substantial than most animated pictures - and a lot of live-action ones as well.

The 3-D amps up the entertainment value; it’s good - but it’s not necessary to enjoy the movie.

Despite the clunky 3-D glasses, kids will love “Meet the Robinsons.”

Saw “Shooter” Thursday night. It encroaches on Jean-Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal, Wesley Snipes territory.

Mark Wahlberg, still intense and angry from “The Departed” but quieter about it, plays a former Marine sniper convinced by government officials such as Danny Glover to help prevent a presidential assassination.

(Check out the “Shooter” trailer at Shooter Movie Trailer.)

The audience smells something fishy but the government guys pull the old loyalty-to-your-country card, Wahlberg bites, gets caught in a double-cross and, naturally, decides to get even.

As with Seagal, Van Damme and Snipes movies, the plot, such as it is, is secondary to the shooting, blowing-up, running and hunting.

There are no shades of gray to complicate matters; your brain rests as the action runs by your eyes, which are trained on the long and beautifully captured sniper shots to the heads of man, many people in the wrong place at the wrong time.

If you prefer to wait for the crowds to lessen, or the film to arrive on DVD, but you have a taste for a “Shooter” kind of escapism, you have alternatives, most at 99 cents per rental.

The closest to “Shooter,” also with a political-conspiracy theme tossed in to give the story the illusion of depth, is probably Snipes’ “The Art of War.” Like Wahlberg’s character, Snipes’ is competent, dedicated, all-American and kills easily.

Like Wahlberg, Snipes is led to believe he’s helping prevent an assassination attempt and winds up being framed, chased, shot at, and other dastardly things, gets mad and gets revenge.

“The Art of War” is more complex than “Shooter” - but don’t let that stop you from checking it out.

Last year’s Michael Douglas-Kiefer Sutherland thriller “The Sentinel,” about rival Secret Service agents, one of whom is suspected of trying to kill the president, is another good alternative.

It’s slower than the other two and a rung lower on the credibility scale, but it keeps you distracted for 90 minutes or so while your brain slumbers, and that is the point of these Grade-B actioners.

Snipes’ “Murder at 1600″ and Seagal’s “Hard to Kill” also qualify.

Clint Eastwood’s “Absolute Power” would, excect it’s got better production values and a smarter script than the others.

If you have any additions to the list, add them in the comments area. I’m always on the lookout for good trash.

People used to kid me about my Meg Ryan crush, claiming that I gave an extra half-star to any film she starred in.

I deny it. I hated “In the Cut” and rated it accordingly.

Ditto that hostage film she made with Russell Crowe about the time the two of them did the adultery two-step.

That adultery thing knocked her down a rung in my estimation.

So did her new lips.

Meg stopped being the quintessential girl next door from “Sleepless in Seattle,” “When Harry Met Sally …,” “You’ve Got Mail,” the underrated “French Kiss” and “I.Q.”

The question was, and still is: Who will replace her? It doesn’t seem that difficult a part _ just be adorable, vulnerable, warm, playful, charismatic, endearing (I think that’s different from adorable) and approachable.

Now how hard can that be?

Some of the candidates: Jennifer Aniston and Maggie Gyllenhaal have adorable going for them, but they tilt toward more complex parts and, ironically, they may be too old. (Starting in the 20s is ideal.)

Others: Audrey Tautou has the look but her resume keeps her out of the U.S.; Rachel McAdams has everything going for her but a hot romantic pairing (she and Owen Wilson in “Wedding Crashers” almost qualifies her, but that was a boys’ comedy rather than a boy-and-girl thing. And while she carried “The Notebook,” it wasn’t comedic).

Amanda Peet qualifies but she may have higher aspirations.

I’m not a Kate Hudson fan, but she has the track record and the look.

Thandie Newton can do too many other things.

Lindsay Lohan keeps shooting herself in the foot. Hilary Duff has the look but apparently not the mind-set.

Molly Parker and Julianne Nicholson may have moved permanently to the small screen. Michelle Trachtenberg’s gone serious.

Kirsten Dunst … but would she want it?

Anne Hathaway? Maybe.

I’m out of ideas. If you have some, write back in the “submit a comment” area below.

Feel free to write if you disagree, too.

I’d love to hear your ideas.

Who know? Maybe someone in Hollywood would pay attention.

Where are they now?

Well, the great Jamie Gertz has some sitcom going strong.

And the lovely Catherine Mary Stewart has, well, I have no idea what she’s got going.

Two of my ’80s crushes, they showed beautifully on my DVD earlier this evening.

Both have been resurrected courtesy of the trend to re-release every movie in the history of the world on DVD.

(Then they can release them all again when Blu-Ray and HD-DVD take over. But that’s another blog topic.)

“Night of the Comet” and “Solarbabies,” cult sci-fi favorites - it may be a cult of two, me and the enthusiastic video store salesman who alerted me to the “Solarbabies” release _ came out on DVD last week.

“Night of the Comet” (1984), which also stars Kelli Maroney (in a fetching cheerleading outfit) and Robert Beltran, boils down to two valley girls - sisters Kelli and Catherine Mary - fending off zombies after a passing comet turns most of the world’s population to red dust.

In case you miss the reference, the theater where Catherine Mary ushers and sleeps with the projectionist has a poster advertising a the classic “Red Dust.”

Why it’s hot: With the world reduced to the teens, a bunch of zombies, a truck driver, a group of sadistic stock boys and a gaggle of evil scientists, the girls do what any healthy high school teens would do - they go shopping at the mall.

Not “Citizen Kane,” not “Night of the Living Dead,” but pajama-party fun.

“Solarbabies” (1986), a stronger film, presents a parched future where kids live in tightly policed orphanages where they are indoctrinated in the ways of the government.

Occasionally they’re let out to skate and play a game that’s like hockey and lacrosse on roller skates.

When deaf Lukas Haas finds a glowing blue ball that communicates with him, he can hear again.

When he brings the ball back to his dorm room, it makes lightning and rain, to the delight of Jami, Jason Patric, James LeGros and others.

A sort of mystical Native American played by a very young Adrian Pasdar (of “Heroes”) with black hair in braids, and a pet owl, steals the ball.

The others escape from the orphanage to get it back, skate free for the first time in their lives, avoid the sadistic guards pursuing them and maybe figure out why they’re having visions of water.

It’s desert-like landscape yet they never get thirsty. More mysticism. (Or filmmaker indifference.)

The surprise: Some crowded-village scenes look like blueprints for scenes in “A.I. Artificial Intelligence.”

Why “Solarbabies” is hot: Because it just is.

And because of Jami, of course.

No extras on either disc.

A shame because their cult following would love to hear updates from Jami and Catherine Mary.

Those darn Spartans.

Who knew the men would take to wearing G-strings while the women wore frocks.

Maybe it was something in the ancient water.

“300″ delivers those and other insights into the 300 Spartans who fought more than 100,000 Persians at the Battle of Thermopylae that you didn’t get in the 1962 Richard Egan film “The 300 Spartans.”

They both start slowly, but “300″ has more blood, fewer frocks and more severings.

Like “Sin City,” “300″ is based on a Frank Miller graphic novel and filmed mostly with actors in front of a blue or green screen with the final color tinted to resemble the images in the graphic comic.

“Sin City,” a collaboration between Miller and the consistently innovative Robert Rodriquez, was more stylized, more violent and more successful.

A dynamo, its exaggerated graphic violence, though stomach-churning, played like a noir symphony in a dark alley on a rainy night in a dangerous city.

Charismatic performances by Mickey Rourke in a career revival, Bruce Willis, Clive Owen and the eye-catching Rosario Dawson boosted its impact.

“300,” with Gerard Butler turning in a rigorous portrayal as the King of Sparta, isn’t as electrifying.

“Sin City” wove together several related strong story lines.

“300″ gives you one — the few battle the many to the death — with snippets of oft-dull politically maneuverings offering a break from the war gore.

The first part of “300″ is mostly exposition with a lot of posturing by buffed men in G-strings.

Spartan boys are raised to be warriors who never retreat, never surrender and find honor in a valiant death.

Like them, the movie is all testosterone all the time.

One stylized sex scene nudges up the interest.

Then the story is all about spear thrusts, severings, beheadings and blood spurts.

By scantily clad men with helmets and shields.

The story holds your interest like a good comic book because, well, men will be men.

The battle sequences are compelling; the “Lord of the Rings”-like big beasties and disfigured villains are fun.

However, the story has no real emotional pull beyond feeling for honorable men doing the honorable thing of fighting to protect their women, their children, their city and, well, their honor.

It’s what men do, besides having sex and posturing.

In short, “300″ is a slightly better-than-average war movie with strong visual images and more G-strings than in “Showgirls.”

“You OK with my shaved head?” Britney Spears said when I called about a second date.

“More to love,” I said.

“Then, OK, like, come on down.”

“Oh my gosh,” she said when I arrived. “What did you do?”

“I shaved my head in solidarity,” I said.

“Solid what?” she asked.

“Solid…, er, uh, to show my support for your shaving your head,” I said.

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” she said. “Well, what do you want to do tonight?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe we can come up with something if we put our heads together.”

“How about the party at the rehab center?” I suggested.

“Will they have alcohol?” Britney asked.

“Unlikely,” I said.

“Oh, that’s so sad,” she said.

“Look, there have to be other options,” I said.

“I’m not wearing underpants,” she said.

That darn Britney.

I disrobed to show my solidarity.

Later, we headed out for pizza.

Mrs. Mugins wants to go somewhere else.

Mrs. Muggins? I said. “Oh yeah, I remember. You cute little thing, you.”