Mischievous 'Olivia' fun in new kids' show — just keep her quiet

Garfield droned like a drag queen, but Winnie-the-Pooh's tubby-little-cubby tone was just right. The Peanuts gang nattered nicely (especially those wah, wah, wah adults), but Tom Hanks made The Polar Express more creepy than Christmas-y.

When it comes to adapting children's books and comics for screens both large and small, the problem is rarely how the images look, but how they sound. After all, the art is already there, but the voices are yours.

That's the biggest problem with Olivia, Nickelodeon's new series based on Ian Falconer's best- selling books about a precocious little piggie (with great fashion sense) and the family she drives batty. The characters' voices are too clean, too understanding, too calm, too rigid. This kid's a nightmare! Does no one remember the time she painted a Jackson Pollock on her wall?!

Distracting audio (and pretty lame voice acting) aside, the half-hour series, animated by Dublin's Brown Bag Films, is a visual stunner. It's intensely loyal to Falconer's fleshed-out etchings, but also extends the books' minimalist color palette to great effect. Olivia is still a really big fan of red (and black-and-white tights, natch), but her brother, mother and father now have access to blue, yellow, even purple.

The animation is done via state-of-the-art CGI, but it never feels too slick, too fancy. All of the heads and ears and snouts are still big and adorable and vaguely 3D.

And yes, Olivia is still having issues with the cat. In fact, that's the very first gag you get, a nice nod to those of us in the know.

My 5-year-old daughter loved Olivia over and over and over again. Her favorite moments were when Olivia turned the family's house into a hotel and when O's brother Ian dressed up as a ghost. It seems the producers have hit their demographic mark.

There are morals to be learned (be nice to your sibs, for one), but Falconer and the series are smart about keeping things hip and cheeky. Olivia is a star in her own head and ours, and although she's a nudge, you can't help rooting for her mischief. It's just that, in this case, she really is better to be seen and not heard.

Sean Daly can be reached at sdaly@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8467.