John Hughes' half-cocked exercise in teen-flick wish-fulfilment centres on a couple of friendless nerds (Hall and Mitchell-Smith) who decide to build the perfect woman on a computer. Implausibly, they succeed. In a puff of smoke, LeBrock appears, soon revealing herself to be part sex object, part mother, part fairy godmother; in other words, Hollywood's idea of every boy's dream woman. That this folly is not completely loathsome is due largely to the efforts of Hall, to some extent reprising his Breakfast Club role, and LeBrock, who couldn't be any camper or more knowing had she made the entire film with one eyebrow arched. Otherwise, though, this is ordinary stuff that's aged about as well as Mitchell-Smith's clunky computer.