All of this is apt to sound viable enough in summary. The actual artwork, on the other hand, when you get down to brass tacks, is willfully primitive, knowingly naive, or, without the equivocation, just plain lousy, and the voices are almost unanimously annoying. A newcomer to the terrain might be struck by the number of phallic shapes on parade. Phallic heads, phallic snouts, phallic appendages. The phallic eyes of the crab are even covered, on and off, with roll-down condom-like eyelids (if that's the proper crustacean word). Such a newcomer may, even so, have a hard time convincing himself that this constitutes an appeal to the adult. The same may be said of the self-conscious mythicizing: the quest motif, the growth motif, the deliverance motif. Even that, in the aftermath of Star Wars, has become kids' stuff. No doubt there's a creative touch or two, possibly three: the sandwich car, one or two of the sea monsters. The rest is not quite all the way to appalling, but it's nearer that than amusing.
The hole has thus been filled. Ocean's Twelve can go jump in a lake.