Hoot: Family movie. Starring Luke Wilson, Logan Lerman, Tim Blake Nelson, Brie Larson and Cody Linley. Written and directed by Wil Shriner. (PG. 90 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)

Imagine if the precocious secret agents in "Spy Kids" had been deployed on a mundane mission to terminate zealous developers, and you get the general drift of "Hoot." Fun to watch although falling short of a real hoot, this latest in a barrage of family movies largely succeeds at keeping the kiddies entertained and their parents from nodding off.

To its credit, the film does nothing to dilute the save-the-Earth-and-every-creature-on-it message of Carl Hiaasen's ingeniously plotted award-winning children's book. It's amazing the best-selling author let Hollywood anywhere near one of his novels after the disastrous screen adaptation of his "Strip Tease." Hiaasen would have been within his rights to insist on a clause prohibiting Demi Moore from being cast as the mom in "Hoot." Three young environmentalists instigate various shenanigans to prevent a pancake franchise from bulldozing over burrows housing the most adorable little owls outside of Harry Potter's birdcage. The do-gooders act not only because they're outraged, but also because they feel alienated from locals already salivating at the thought of a short stack.

Eighth-grader Roy (Logan Lerman) has just been uprooted for the 10th time, leaving Montana, where he was happy, for a flat hamlet in coastal Florida. His worst fears are realized when his new classmates immediately dub him "cowgirl." Beatrice (Brie Larson), the one student to befriend him, is a giantess and a jock -- a lethal combination for attracting boys. Her half brother (Cody Linley) has run away from military school and is hiding in the remaining wilderness of their tiny corner of the Gulf Coast.

By accentuating the trio's estrangement, screenwriter-director Wil Shriner (Herb's son, for those of you old enough for that to mean anything) proves himself wise as an owl. Most of the movie's target audience also feel like aliens and will readily identify with Roy and his gang. By featuring rebels with a cause, "Hoot" suggests constructive ways to channel adolescent anxiety.

Lerman is too much a milquetoast to do right by Roy, who should be the film's heartbeat. But Larson and Linley bring a dash of Indiana Jones to their roles, and, in a nice added touch, actually look like they could be related.

You're most likely to laugh, however, at adult leads Luke Wilson and the underappreciated Tim Blake Nelson. Wilson is sublimely goofy (rivaling brother Owen at his zaniest) as a hapless law enforcement officer, who screws up an investigation of sabotage at the construction site of Mother Paula's All-American Pancake House. Wilson projects an authoritative air that's completely at odds with the cop's incompetence. Checking out a Porta Potti for signs of vandalism, he winds up wrestling with an alligator submerged in the toilet bowl. The gator wins. As a none-too-bright construction foreman, Nelson makes a perfect foil for Wilson. Together, the two of them are no match for the determined band of environmentalists.

Directing his first feature film after years of helming TV sitcoms, Shriner mostly keeps "Hoot" clipping along, although scenes of Roy being consoled by his unbelievably understanding parents do drag on. The movie benefits from shooting on location in Florida, including the affluent Gulf Coast town of Boca Grande captured at its most picturesque. The problem is that most of the state no longer looks like this since developers had their way with it. "Hoot" makes some noise to wake us up to other alternatives.