Obnoxious Dutton (£10m in debt) and brittle, childless wife Fenn live in a big house (paid for with her money) on the Isle of Man. Mysterious Winstone calls at the house, holds them hostage, and Dutton's secret is exposed. Knowing the bank manager's coming round, Dutton tells Fenn to wear one of her short dresses, 'tight around the breasts, you know what he likes'. As he says with a sneer, 'I'm in the shit with the wrong people.' Winstone can't save the day. In fact, he adds to our woes, with a brand of trembling, ordinary-bloke psychosis. Fenn is more interesting - her spoilt, controlled facade is full of tiny, unhappy cracks - but she spends most of her time undressing (or rather her body double does). Meanwhile, the music digs you in the ribs until you're black and blue, obtuse flashbacks spread like a rash, and for all the attempts at glamour, everything looks cheap. Even peerlessly camp appearances by Tobias and Dobson fail to bring cheer.