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Rene Russo is the nominal co-star of Yours, Mine & Ours, along with one of the Quaid brothers—the still-handsome one. Dennis, I think. But various exotic creatures, including a potbellied pig and Linda Hunt, also appear in this entry in the annual innocuous-holiday-film sweeps. And let’s not forget the participation of many of your favorite national brands, which of course have an interest in upholding the evergreen Hollywood notion that with enough love and a enough moolah, nearly any hurdle can be overcome. Russo and Quaid (yes, definitely Dennis) portray the fabulously earthy handbag designer Helen North, a widow, and the impressively regimented Adm. Frank Beardsley, a widower, characters played in the 1968 original by Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda. In the earlier film, Fonda’s character was in the Navy; the new Frank is in the Coast Guard. The Navy must have known that screenwriters Ron Burch and David Kidd had previously collaborated on a Freddie Prinze Jr. movie whose tag line began, “Four supermodel roommates….” Or perhaps the Coast Guard, like J. Crew and North American Van Lines and Wilson Sporting Goods, actually spent money to be associated with this picture—in which case we should all, right this minute, stop worrying about the quality of Hollywood family fare and focus our concern on the security of our maritime borders. Oh, right: The plot, what there is of it, concerns Helen and Frank’s marriage and the petulant response of their insufferable children. See, he has eight squeaky-clean prepsters and she has 10 free spirits, most of them adopted, including the African-American adolescent who naturally aspires to be a rapper and a small Vietnamese boy who’s apparently already a flaming ’mo, and… Oh, never mind. Director Raja Gosnell, who also helmed Never Been Kissed and Home Alone 3, gives us predictable proportions of splendiferousness and slapstick. Russo and Quaid are professionally competent, and the young actors are all interchangeably dull. But the exotic creatures by and large acquit themselves admirably: A hamster performs stunts involving a saxophone and a bucket of paint, the porker carries a pizza in its chops with what appears to be a marvelous lack of self-consciousness, and Hunt seems thoroughly unashamed to be caught working in this picture—which is indeed a performance worthy of an Oscar-winning actress. —Trey Graham