Movies about orphans usually win me over completely, so it’s no surprise Like Mike upholds this tradition. Because a good story can be told effectively in many different ways, I’m not put off by the film’s similarity to Oliver Twist as well as to Annie, the musical. And it helps that Like Mike’s star, Lil Bow Wow, is both funny and appealing. Playing Calvin Cambridge, an orphan who finds a pair of mysterious sneakers he thinks once belonged to Michael Jordan, this hip-hop recording artist makes an impressive movie debut.

"In most everything I do," says Bow, "I just go with the flow, so I knew that once I got into the whole acting thing, I could do a good job. So I put my all into it."

Bow’s "all" includes attitude, charm, and even some surprising basketball skills. Naturally, this four-foot-eight-inch lad can’t fly through the air like Calvin does in the movie, but he’s sure got game. In describing one scene, director John Schultz (Drive Me Crazy) reports, "Bow shoots a three-pointer – an actual NBA three-pointer—with the camera rolling. Nothing but net! And he did it again on the second take! Saved me a half day of shooting."

When fourteen-year-old Calvin discovers he can hit 25-foot jumpers, make behind-the-back passes and execute impressive slam-dunks, he thinks it’s because of the magic sneakers Sister Theresa (Anne Meara) gave him. "They belonged to a famous basketball player when he was a kid. You know . . . the tall, bald one," she says.

Calvin’s first challenge involves preventing the resident bully (Jesse Plemons) from stealing his magic shoes. Fortunately, his best friends (Jonathan Lipnickni and Brenda Song) help keep the tough guy in his place. Next, Calvin must deal with a sleazy man (Crispin Glover) who runs the Chesterfield Group Home. This modern-day Fagin forces his orphans to sell candy at sporting events, then pockets most of the profits. He wastes no time in trying to capitalize on Calvin’s fame as a mascot/player for the Los Angeles Knights, a professional basketball team with a sympathetic coach (Robert Forster) and an opportunistic manager (Eugene Levy).

Still, what bothers Calvin the most is his failure to get adopted. That’s why he forms a strong attachment to Tracey Reynolds (Morris Chestnut), his reluctant basketball mentor. The growing relationship between Calvin and Tracey emerges as my favorite part of this sweet movie. As Tracey, Chestnut (The Best Man) convincingly projects emotions ranging from jealousy and fear of personal commitment to deep concern for his little teammate. He’s a poweful screen presence  – and one of the most photogenic actors since Johnny Depp.

Granted, we’ve watched similar adult-child relationships develop in movies before, some done better. The best: Kolya, a foreign language film depicting how a tiny Russian refugee and a gruff Czech cellist overcome their differences in age, language, and culture. To me, Calvin and Tracey seem more like Little Orphan Annie and Daddy Warbucks, who also learn to care for each other after a rough start. (They sing a cute duet together, too.) No doubt movies will continue to be made about this humanistic theme. And that’s fine with me. It never hurts to be reminded about the importance of good role models and caring adults in the lives of all youngsters.

Are Calvin’s sneakers really magical? Sorry. Because of my Film Critic Oath, I can't answer that question. You’ll have to see Like Mike to find out.

(Released by 20^th Century Fox and rated "PG" for brief mild language.)