It's anything but a dog's life for self-centred assistant district attorney Dave Douglas (Allen).

He's a workaholic who ignores his increasingly aggrieved wife (Davis) and is oblivious to his two children (Breslin and Grey), who have grudgingly accepted that he's literally not there for them.

However, it's all change when a dog bite leaves him with an ancient serum coursing through his bloodstream that means he is gradually transformed into a furry hound (and back again).

It transpires that this barking state of affairs is not entirely disconnected from a case he's pursing against his animal activist daughter's tree-hugging social studies teacher.

Henchmen from a evil pharmaceuticals company have snatched a 300-year-old bearded collie dog (which nipped Dave) from his spiritual kennel in Tibet and are trying to harness his life-giving properties for corporate rotter Robert Downey Jr.

The embarrassing upshot for Dave is that his hackles literally rise when he's in court, snarling across the courtroom and chasing the robe of his bathrobe in the manner of a deluded mutt.

It took director Brian Robbins and five - count 'em - screenwriters to revive this 1959 comedy - the first of Disney's countless live action laughter fests - and merely reinforces the truism you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

The comedy is at its strongest when Allen is scratching furiously as his canine alter-ego and falls rather flat when he resumes life as a hotshot LA lawyer.

And Disney's wearying brand of political correctness is at its strongest when railing against animal testing or organising Allen's inevitable return to the bosom of his family. Well, Kristin Davis's bosom anyway.

At the end of the day, it's serviceable, fur-fetched family entertainment even if the premise looks a little dog-eared.

Tim Evans