It's easy to see why: the atmosphere here gets people talking. Or rather, it gets them watching videos and not talking to each other during the meal, but really talking about the experience afterward, often months later. It's "high concept" dining, almost gimmick dining, but it works. The illusion of a 1950s-era drive in is pretty complete, and even the servers talk about 'parking attendants' and some wear roller skates. The sound really came out of speakers arranged like they were in drive-in theaters. Kids even get a little souvenir card. The receipt, when it came, had 'parking violation' stamped across the top… cute. The tables are arranged either around a car framework, but then you're not facing the screen, or set up in the car to face the screen, and then you've only got two people per row. At our table, the third row was taken up by two 'hitchhikers' – at least the theming is consistent! The forty-minute loop of videos has a science-fiction theme, as befits the restaurant's name, but each video is little more than a short clip. It's very easy to kill time here, and completely forget there's a theme park outside. 

The food appears as an afterthought in this review, the same way it's almost an afterthought at the restaurant. Pretty average right down the middle, the fare ranges from greasy to uninspired, though we had one standout dish. The Reuben sandwich ($11) was all the right notes of moist, meaty, and salty, with fresh ingredients used throughout. The meat was of excellent quality, and the meal easily filled me up. Even the fries were good (the alternate side dish, cucumber melon salad, was quite small and unappealing). The BBQ chicken sandwich ($14) was pedestrian, and a touch dry. I could say much more horrible things about the child's cheeseburger ($4), which featured an appalling lack of flavor whatsoever – it felt like eating a 'filler' patty. The onion rings ($6), which came recommended, consisted of exactly nine onion rings, making each bite rather expensive. They were good but not great. Better was the alcoholic oreo shake ($10), which, though expensive, tasted divine and even came with an artificial ice cube that had a flashing blue LED one could turn on and off, and it made for a great child toy.