It's been a while since it was worth catching an Alicia Silverstone movie. John Cleese hasn't done anything of note since A Fish Called Wanda.

Woody Harrelson's career is treading water - not waving but drowning - while Rachael Leigh Cook basically came and went with She's All That.

So it's risky - to say the least - to put them altogether in a movie directed by the man best known as a yodeler in How The Grinch Stole Christmas.

It would be nice to report that it's an against-the-odds triumph. But it's not. It's basically a decent premise squandered by dialogue bled dry of any comedy value.

Silverstone plays a cashier dreaming of better things in a smalltown bank run by her ex-boyfriend - a David Brent-style character without even that monster's limited charm.

Working alongside her are pony-tailed Jason Valley (Harrelson), a stoner (no surprise there) environmentalist whose best friend is a duck.

Together with junior teller Paul Costanzo they all entertain idle plans to rob the bank - schemes that unknowingly converge one summer's weekend with results that are anything but hilarious.

The main annoyance with this movie is that the plot is deftly worked, offering countless comedy possibilities and the potential for a genuine mirth-fest.

Unfortunately, someone appears to have commited grand larceny with the script, pinching any decent gags and leaving a struggling cast with nothing with which to work.

Nowhere is this more apparent than the miserly performance of a desperate Cleese as a vile millionaire salesman of get-rich-quick videos.

It's difficult to believe this man used to be a comedy giant - the mind behind Fawlty Towers and the star of the Python movies.

This is one bank robbery caper that leaves you feeling short-changed.

Tim Evans