If, like me, you think entering a bank feels akin to sticking your head in a lion's mouth, jumping out of a plane with a parachute packed by your six-year-old son or going shopping with Winona Ryder, you know, things you'd really rather not do, then The Bank will do nothing to change your opinion.

The film, rightly or wrongly, plays up to every stereotype that you've ever read, been told, or heard rumours about those high street institutions that the public love to hate only slightly less than the likes of me.

It is a film that is difficult to talk about in too much detail without giving away its secrets. But it is safe to say it's a morality tale about those who would rather use money for the good of others and those who would rather use it to further line their own pockets.

It's like Wall Street, the film that really made Michael Douglas a star - forget Fatal Attraction - only with didgeridoos.

Set in Australia, the principal characters are a mathematical whizkid whose dream it is to predict the stockmarket, a wholesome family whose business is going to the dogs and an Antipodean answer to Gordon Gecko, played, if I am not very much mistaken by Daphne's brother from Frasier.

Some of the acting leaves a little bit to be desired, and I'm sure the soon-to-be bankrupt father and his son were only cast because they both had ridiculously curly blond hair, but once you are able to put the title to one side - come on guys, show a bit of imagination - it really is quite an enjoyable little flick.

There are little if any laughs, but it trots along at a fair old pace and there is an unseen, if somewhat far-fetched twist in the tale.

A film of note, or notes as the case may be.

Show time: Today, Thursday, April 18, 9 p.m. at the Little Theatre.

Matt Westcott