Cue up the Iggy Pop: When director Danny Boyle burst on the scene in the '90s with the dynamic duo of Shallow Grave and Trainspotting, he gave the British film industry a kick-start to the arse that it sorely needed, shaking the stodgy foundations with a welcome blast of scratchy punk. Still, there was a downside to the overwhelming amphetamine rush; what made these films faintly tiring, even at their most ingeniously crackerjack, was the mounting suspicion that Boyle was uninterested (or worse, incapable) in anything other than trying to knock the audience out with every single shot, slinging the camera upside down from the rafters when an occasional simple setup would suffice. (His success also most likely helped lead to the eventual careers of such flashy ADD-afflicted hacks as Guy Ritchie and Michael Bay, but let's try not to pin too much on the dude.)

28 Days Later, his fierce comeback after a series of increasingly frenetic misfires (culminating with the unfortunate-for-all-concerned The Beach), marked a welcome new phase in the director's development, where the micro budget and rigors of location shooting forced him to tone it down a bit, ramping back his hellacious energy into a somewhat more measured approach. He could still kick out the jams like nobody's business, but not without at least a bit of good reason.

Millions, Boyle's hugely enjoyable first venture into all-ages entertainment, proves to be a successful marrying of his past and present approaches. His visual pyrotechnics can occasionally still be a tad exhausting, but when paired with the appropriate subject material, as it is here, his overall enthusiasm is really something to behold. Teamed again with his 28 Days cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle, Boyle successfully maintains a child's eye visual sensibility throughout, in a miraculously noncloying fashion. Every blade of grass is a nuclear Jolly Rancher green, bad guys block out the sun, tract houses quick assemble around the oblivious tenants, and landscapes stretch out for eons.

Working from a script by Frank Cottrell Boyce (best known for his work with Michael Winterbottom, whose 24 Hour Party People stands as perhaps the best offshoot of Boyle's sensibilities), Boyle has crafted a kid-friendly fable with enough sly modern-day relevance to keep adults from checking their watches. An over-imaginative 7-year-old (he's prone to chatting with invisible saints; they, rather distressingly to his widowed dad, have a habit of talking back) stumbles across a huge bag of loot in the field near his new house, days before the mandatory UK changeover to the euro. While the money initially brings nothing but good fortune (he buys pizza for the homeless; his monstrously capitalist older brother scores an entourage and considers investing in apartment properties), dealing with the newfound stash gets steadily more complicated as the deadline approaches and the big folks get increasingly curious.

When I met the charming yet hugely caffeinated director in town last month, he blanched a bit at his film being typed as a kid flick, fearing that it would unjustly limit the potential audience. While his concerns about getting lost in the unceasing flood of live-action Disney dross make sense, he shouldn't have to worry too much. Excluding an occasional flash of the cutes, the movie maintains an infectious mix of wide eyes and street smarts that should appeal across the board. As for the younger kids, while there are occasional dark moments, mostly courtesy of a shady thug with designs on the cash, savvy tykes who've made it unscathed through the likes of Oompa Loompas or Ring Wraiths should take these in stride. (Frankly, deciphering the rather heavy brogue may be a bit more of an issue for parents to take into consideration.)

Whether Boyle's constant bent towards personal reinvention will continue to pay off is yet to be seen. (His next film, scripted by frequent collaborator Alex Garland, is about a spaceship on a grim and gritty mission to jump-start the sun.) In the here and now, though, there's no denying that he's on one heck of a roll. I've seen Millions twice now, and that tangible sense of wonder persists. Coming out of the theater, reality looks a bit of a bummer.