Sure it’s predictable — Turner hates dogs, Hooch trashes his flat, they eventually bond and solve the crime — but it’s goofy, knockabout fun and the big, loveable pooch nearly matches Hanks for easy screen charisma.

The rather mechanical style of director Roger Spottiwoode (who took over the film after original director Henry Winkler departed) fails to enliven the stereotypical criminal proceedings.

From the moment when Hooch first appears to the strains of Strauss' 'Also sprach Zarathustra', the gags can be smelt a mile off, and the thriller elements are as hackneyed as an episode of Murder She Wrote.

Hanks' taste in picking movie projects continues to be abominable.