Just so we're clear, I'm not going to insult either of our intelligences by providing an evenhanded synopsis/critique of Unaccompanied Minors—a gratuitous family flick about some kids stuck in an airport on Christmas—because frankly, you already know what I'm gonna say. (If not, allow me to direct you to the convenient, if somewhat utilitarian, headline above.) Instead, I'd like to take this opportunity to shed light onto Hollywood's silent scourge, evidenced so profoundly in this mediocre little children's movie: the sad and sickening plight of Hollywood's C-list comedic celebrities.

Forever relegated to roles like "that guy on that one show" that you thought was "pretty funny," and "comical neighbor character," the struggling mainstream comic talent whose career was once ripe with possibility eventually finds their star dimmed to such a degree that they're begging for spots on Sierra Mist ads, or padding their resume with shitty cameos in seasonal family fare. Is this all that Hollywood has to offer the poor, struggling comedic actor? He/she who brought us to tears with an Everybody Loves Raymond walk-on just a few years ago? One line in Una-fuckin'-companied Minors? I mean, check out this cast list: Lucille and Buster from Arrested Development? Fez from That '70s Show? Lewis Black? That sports guy from Anchorman? The temp and the Indian girl from The Office? THREE of the Kids In The Hall?!?!?

In the case of Unaccompanied Minors, one imagines that most of the responsibility/blame can be placed on the heads of disgraced duo Ira Glass (This American Life) and Paul Feig (creator of Freaks and Geeks), who respectively produced and directed this snow white noise—a case of throwing a few talented friends a succulent studio bone. But with material largely beneath even the film's child actors, it's hard to imagine it's made for a very satisfying meal.