British sporting triumphs like decent homegrown film comedies seem to be thing of the past rather than the present.

All too often the country has risen in fevered anticipation at England's progress only for it to end it tears and bitter recrimination.

Unabashed optimists have even gone to the cinema to see Maybe Baby only for things to end exactly the same way.

Mel Smith has taken that most English of games - the preserve of players "aged 50-something but going on 70, Daily Mail readers who think rough shag is something you put in a pipe."

In other words, bowls. Except he has punkish green master Cliff Starkey (Kaye) trampling over the ancient traditions as well as the manicured lawns.

Cliff's grizzly nemesis is Torquay Lawn Bowls champion Ray Speight (Cromwell), who is a stickler for old rules and regulations.

When the young pretender thrashes Ray in the in a stunning display of bowls showmanship in the county finals, it's jacks at dawn.

This traditional British caper, penned by Calendar Girls writer Tim Firth, harks back to the knockabout days of Carry On...but without the tongue-in-cheek innocence.

Kaye, who made his name as spoof interviewer Dennis Pennis, is peculiarly charmless for the role of an anti-hero. He can't do love He can't do loss. He just does rude.

Surprisingly, its Vegas - a comic notorious for his booze-fulled flights of fancy - that turns in the most nuanced performance.

Vince Vaughn turns up as a predatory American sports agent while the veteran Cribbins - who really ought to be listed - reprises his working class labourer routine.

Something to dip into on a Sunday when you haven't got anything to do. A bit like bowls really.

Tim Evans