Polynesian peoples call it "mana," the power we imbue in objects through sheer belief, from the power of a talisman to a Honus Wagner baseball card to the Bible we swear on in court.

It's the audience's belief in this belief, as it were, that makes a slight and pleasant little caper film called Stone of Destiny slightly more than the real-life tale of a ballsy college prank that it is.

The title object is the Stone of Scone, or Stone of Destiny, a 150 kg slab of rock that was once the uncomfortable seating for the coronation of kings of Scotland, and was stolen in 1296 by King Edward I of England -- a theft both mundane and shattering to the Scottish psyche. For 700 years it would sit in Westminster Abbey under the British coronation chair, a tacit symbol of Scotland's subjugation.

That is, except for a period of months that began with its "reclamation" in 1950 by pub-crawling Glasgow college students.

Unlike, say, engineering students who assemble a Volkswagen in a dean's office in the dead of night, these were hooligans who were cheered on by a nation as heroes.

Or so the story goes. And director Charles Martin Smith (The Snow Walker) is in love with this story, to the exclusion of character development.

The motivation of its real-life hero, Ian Hamilton (Charlie Cox) is relegated to a few scenes of drunken angry pub talk, where Scottish indignation is confined to grumbling about a sign in the establishment that refers to it as being in "North Britain."

Ian's fire is perplexing, as opposed to, say, that of his mate Gavin (Stephen McCole) who likes to get drunk and create havoc, and sees this as just a nobler opportunity for same.

All around them are fatalistic what-can-you-do types, and tired erstwhile nationalists such as John MacCormick (Robert Carlyle) who grudgingly grubstakes our band of rebels to the tune of fifty quid.

Quite a contrast from movies about the Irish "troubles," which usually involve British atrocities and torture. You come away from Stone of Destiny with no greater appreciation of Scottish nationalism, but, like its participants, you go along for the lark.

Rounding out the "merry men" are Stuart (Ciaron Kelly), a milquetoast whose chief value is his car, and the requisite feisty love interest Kay (Kate Mara). Like the plan itself, Stone of Destiny starts smartly in one direction, and then goes off on a detour of mishaps and antic episodes, such that the actual theft all but succeeds by accident.

Combinations of the four are stopped by the police so often (in one case, simply for "suspicion of being Glaswegian") that it takes on a Keystone Kops feel. Indeed, one scene where Ian keeps missing Gavin and Stuart as they circle the Abbey looking for lost car keys, goes on too long.

By the time they finally abscond with the stone, you've pretty much forgotten that this is a piece of rock good Scotsmen cry over, and we need a scene or two to be reminded of that.

Braveheart it isn't, but it is fun.

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