REVIEWED - THE ADVENTURES OF GREYFRIARS BOBBY: SHOULD you wish to punish naughty children by subjecting them to a uniquely Caledonian ordeal of misery, you could fling them down a stagnant well with nothing to eat but last year's mouldy haggis and nothing for entertainment but the recordings of Andy Stewart (ask your Ma). If, however, they are truly wicked, then they may deserve to be deposited in front of the austere Presbyterian sermon that is The Adventures of Greyfriars Bobby.

The Edinburgh legend, you may recall, tells of a sad wee dog who, through rain, hail and sleet, sat pining on his master's grave waiting for his own merciful propulsion into oblivion. This sounds miserable enough, but the scolds behind this new version have contrived to expand the tale into a veritable orgy of despair and wretchedness. Slums collapse, crushing whole families. Evil mill owners press their attentions on young mothers. Children are imprisoned in workhouses.

Then, just when you think the atmosphere can't get any glummer, up pops Gina McKee, possessor of the mopiest mug in Christendom. (Meanwhile, Christopher Lee and Ian Richardson, neither of whom is often mistaken for Krusty the Klown, wait in the wings.)

To be fair, this soul-withering exercise is put together with passable competence. Ardal O'Hanlon, the only actor not to speak his lines as if they were written by Oor Wullie, is amiable as a tramp whose heart remains pure despite a lifetime of suffering. The unofficial shortbread commercial at the film's heart features nice footage of brooks, highlands and salmon. And the dog does everything his trainer - former Boomtown Rat Gerry Cott, no less - instructs him to do.

But, considering how ghastly the real world is, there is no need to inflict this level of unhappiness on our wee'ans during their leisure hours.