Can you imagine if you could watch a movie in three dimensions?! And really experience what it would be like if a horrifying saucer-eyed fly with hair, or a glob of antigravity orange juice, or Amelia Earhart's sputum, sort of looked like it was maybe kind of sort of coming near your face? Kind of? And also you had a headache?

Fly Me to the Moon—a movie about flies who fly... to the moon—has the totally uninteresting distinction of being animated and released exclusively in 3-D (a format that has been in a state of "big revival!" since its invention). When the 3-D effects started, the kid next to me yelled: "It feels like I'm touching it!" Um, no it doesn't, dumbass, unless you're one of those assholes who claims that they can "taste color." God, shut up.

So there are these three baby flies. One is the main one, one has glasses, and one is fat (Type 1 Fly-abetes!)—which means he has no personality other than a desire for food. The main one has this manipulative grandpa fly who's always saying, "If it ain't an adventure, it ain't worth doing!" His geriatric taunts cause the baby flies to stow away on the Apollo 11 space shuttle and blast off to a grisly death. I wish.

After the movie, a live-action Real Buzz Aldrin comes out and says something like: "Listen. We all had fun watching this crazy newfangled motion picture, but I want to make it clear that there were no flies—NO CONTAMINANTS—aboard the Apollo 11 moon mission." Thanks for clarifying, Real Buzz Aldrin. Because I thought it was a FUCKING DOCUMENTARY ABOUT A FAT FLY CHILD IN A DENIM VEST. Fly Me to the Moon shalt not defame the good name of NASA.

One can only assume that this terrible, terrible movie was ad-libbed by actual flies. Bzzz.