Ramona and Beezus

A STRANGE one this. Based on a series of children's books by Beverly Cleary that, to this writer's knowledge, have made little impact on the eastern side of the Atlantic, Ramona and Beezusis as wholesome a film as you could hope to encounter.

Awash with current economic discontents, Elizabeth Allen’s picture follows young Ramona (Joey King), a mischievous but decent child living in Portland, Oregon, as she tries to rally the family following her father’s sudden job loss.

There are mildly antagonistic forces about (a slightly grumpy teacher, a handsome neighbour with an attitude, an annoyed elder sister, played by Selena Gomez) but nobody is so wretched that he or she fails to crumble before the heroine’s supposed charm. Ramona makes lemonade. Everyone guzzles. Ramona makes a paint-splattered mess of the neighbour’s car. Everyone laughs (well, eventually). If Ramona nail- bombed a vicarage, it would take just one cheeky smile to mollify the bereaved.

It's a familiar trope. When I had muddy knees, Dorothy Edwards's My Naughty Little Sisterstories fulfilled a similar role. The young reader was encouraged to feel slight pangs of transgression – naughtiness is, well, naughty, after all – before mild rebukes reminded the protagonist that the virtuous path remains the one worth taking.

Talk about ambivalent moral compasses. This was our torture porn. It is hard to believe that many contemporary children will get on board.

The film, it must be said, is pretty well made. Decent actors such as Josh Duhamel and Sandra Oh flesh out the cast and the crisp cinematography makes a timeless nowhere (where are the mobiles and computers?) of the idyllic, threat-free suburban environment. But, though the film is set in the present, the placidity and security of the surroundings suggest President Eisenhower’s America more than Obama’s.

Many weary parents will, no doubt, appreciate the dearth of wizards, slug monsters and karate koalas. Their offspring may, however, feel as if they’ve been hoodwinked into spending the afternoon with a particularly boring cadre of relatives.