Fresh-faced rookie teacher Hilary Swank takes on a rebellious class, discovers she can't be bothered and they all turn to crystal meth and die horrible, lingering deaths in the gutters of LA.

No. Be sensible. This is Hollywood. And Hollywood through the eyes of morally cleansed and scrubbed yoof-based business empire MTV.

What really happens is that 23-year-old Erin Gruwell (Swank) refuses to let the system beat her and marshalls a onetime gang of no-hopers into an academic force to be reckoned with.

From the moment the eager Erin "getz down wid de kidz" at Wilson High School, California's own educational experiment in multiculturism, she's got a job on her beautifully manicured hands.

For a start, the swaggering youths all hate each other's guts along the lines of race (cliques range from "Little Cambodia" through "the Ghetto" to "South of the Border.") and most are affiliated to tooled up, rival gangs.

There's an awful lot of attitood-in-big-trousers and moody slouching about as the melting pot of blacks, Latinos, Asians and Welsh juvenile delinquents (I could be wrong about the Welsh) strut about the place risibly demanding respect.

However, a racist cartoon scribbled by a slovenly yob pushes the patient Erin too far and she opts for the most extreme sanction available - forced reading of Anne Frank's Diary.

Before you know it, homies and ho's are meekly trooping around the Simon Wiesenthal Centre and taking afternoon tea with Holocaust victims. Yes, it's a United Colours of Benetton blub-a-thon.

Based on a true story, it's difficult to knock what is a pretty inspirational yarn but things are just too pat in the academic world occupied by American OFSTED's pin-up girl.

There is token opposition from Imelda Staunton's shrewish traditionalist and Erin's long-suffering hubbie walks out after she takes on menial jobs to pay the pupil's books bill.

However, the feelgood, never-say-die mindset inevitably prevails and it's difficult to resist the tide of goodwill and renewed teenage optimism that comes flooding your way.

Erin, as they say, is a class act.

Tim Evans