You know, I usually have respect for British comedy such as Monty Python or for British comedy/sci-fi, such as Doctor Who, Red Dwarf or Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.<br /><br />I list those because I want to establish a standard for good.<br /><br />This movie didn't have a single laugh in it. Essentially, a spaceship full of slackers crash lands their space ship (which oddly enough, resembles a trailer-home on the inside) in the UK, and an international team of British and bad American stereotypes proceeds to examine them. Hill Street Blues' James B. Sikking plays a CIA officer who delights in torturing the aliens. The aliens escape with the help of a friendly reporter, who turns them into rock stars.<br /><br />Meanwhile, their captain is stranded in space, and is dropped off in Arizona by a gender confused alien. He is confined to a mental institution (bad parody of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" ensue) before catching up with his rock-star comrades in NYC. A spaceship reminiscent of "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" arrives and takes them home.<br /><br />The American scenes are poorly done because it is fairly obvious that the producers have never been to America. (The sign on the diner that reads "Chile" being the most glaring example. "Chili" is food, "Chile" is a country.) The Americans are nothing but bad stereotypes, and in many cases, are more alien than the British accented aliens.<br /><br />It's essentially a one-joke movie. The aliens are dumb. The Earth people are dumb. The problem is that they aren't funny.