This film offers almost exactly what you would expect it to and there's nothing wrong with that. We've seen better movies about the trials of homelessness, the tortures involved in getting clean from heroin, especially the latter when it's worth remembering this is a 12A certificate and so the horrors experienced by the main character can't be quite as lurid, nightmarish and unsettling as those depicted in TRAINSPOTTING.

Otherwise, this adaptation of James Bowen's autobiography, his account of how he was saved by the unlikely companionship of Bob, is pretty likable stuff. Luke Treadaway's performance is perfectly fine; his depiction of a drug user who's lost everything and is living rough comes across as credible enough. If there's a sense of fantasy about the effect Bob has on his fortunes - Londoners react to Bob as though they've never seen a cat before - then you just have to go with it to an extent. The film makes it clear that Bob personifies James's salvation, and it was a lovely detail to discover one of the feline actors playing the cat was none other than Bob himself.

Anthony Head doesn't need to do much to play James's estranged father, but he handles the emotional turmoil hidden beneath the character's austere exterior really well. Joanne Froggatt and THE STRAIN's Ruta Gedmintas are memorable as James's doctor and distant love interest respectively. The latter is a bit too obviously 'hippy chick' but she just about gets away with it, and I respected that the romantic undertones of her story line climaxed in a bittersweet, realistic way.

For me, this is up there with EDDIE THE EAGLE as a title that won't win any awards and will never slay the box office, but it made me feel better for having seen it. I'm looking forward to reading Bowen's book now. And I once knew a cat called Bob - a more affectionate and avuncular friend I don't think I've ever had.