Animated feature has clever jokes, great action

Bruce Willis and Nick Nolte are two of the well-cast voices.
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
The city slicker is an easily recognizable type in American culture, an urban rascal who tries to get over on the wholesome country rubes by appealing to their trust and naivete. But in these times, when so many cities get stretched into concrete prairies full of cheap housing developments and strip malls, a new type is needed, and "Over the Hedge" delivers him.
Meet RJ the raccoon, suburb slicker.
RJ, voiced by Bruce Willis, sees the 'burbs as a paradise of human wastefulness, which means vast quantities of easily procurable junk food. He's like Robert Preston in "The Music Man," a con artist eager to sell the citizens -- in this case, a group of foraging animals -- on the promise of progress in the form of a pristine new residential community. RJ has an ulterior motive in the form of a growling bear (a perfectly cast Nick Nolte) who expects a cache of grub.
But the bulk of this surprisingly smart animated feature is devoted to RJ and his attempts to dupe a turtle, a squirrel and other woodland critters who find civilization encroaching on their green acres.
Comic strip
Based on the comic strip created by Michael Fry and T. Lewis, "Over the Hedge" finds DreamWorks' computer animation division expanding its "Shrek" turf beyond the land of grumpy green ogres. "Hedge" is clever without straining too hard for pop culture in-jokes (a restraint that the "Shrek" films could learn from), and its script, even at its weakest points, is more cogent than Disney's "Chicken Little" ever was.
Visually energetic and light on its feet, it's frothy entertainment that has some ideas in its head and a sense of playfulness that turns those ideas into a speedily pleasant 90 minutes.
To these animals, voiced by the likes of William Shatner (who gets to indulge in some Captain Kirk melodramatics), Wanda Sykes, Steve Carell and Gary Shandling, the community of El Rancho Camelot is a mighty strange land.
The coveted food is spiked with sugar, caffeine and various chemical enhancements (hey, it beats tree bark). The people, described by Shandling's cautious turtle, Verne, as "these freaky pink primates," drive massive metal machines called SUVs.
"Humans drive around in them because they're slowly losing their ability to walk," explains RJ. How many people ride in them, a critter asks. "Usually one," responds the wily raccoon.
That might not be funny to the tykes in the audience. But if you're reading this review, chances are you're not a tyke. Anyway, "Hedge" has more than enough kinetic visuals to please those who might be too young to get the jokes about property taxes.
Humor and mischief
When Verne first crosses over to the brave new world side, he's swept into a frantic chase that recalls a Buster Keaton misadventure. And of course there's a scene during which the track house crowd takes, and is depicted as deserving, a major beating.
It's not just the gung-ho exterminator who uses medieval torture devices, including one "illegal in every state except Texas." It's not just the screeching suburban harpy who, in the midst of domestic mayhem, insists that the president of a homeowners' association can't be treated this way.
The core of "Over the Hedge," the part that plays to us grown-ups, has little use for blinding green lawns and loud children's birthday parties. And it conveys its disdain with a sense of humor, mischief and, ultimately, heart, that even a suburb slicker can appreciate.