Shamateurishly directed, this Roberts vehicle traversing the clichéd class-clash/love story territory of Pretty Woman is a dog. Working-class, Catholic, unemployed and single, Hilary (Roberts) applies for a job as live-in carer for Victor Geddes (Scott), a millionaire's son suffering from leukemia, but is given the thumbs-down by Geddes père. Soon, however, she is summoned to the basement flat where Victor lives in splendid social isolation, surrounded by the morbid works of Klimt and Rossetti. Sadly, down at the disco where Hilary gets her kicks, nobody told her about art history... The surprising thing is the film's coyness. As their relationship grows and we finally get to sex - after all the business of her helping him through frightening post-chemotherapy attacks - the camera pulls away ashamedly to view their contact through mirrors. Judy Holliday and Jean Hagen would have sent the script back.