Madonna's first mainstream solo starring vehicle is, alas for the lass, a wretchedly unfunny, woefully mistimed comedy with one of those plots you thought had gone out in the Sixties. Comic heroes flee comic crooks who are in turn pursued by comic police. Everybody's in on the joke except the audience. Madonna's okay as a squeaky streetgirl jailbird, out to clear herself of the frame that gave her four years inside. But Griffin Dunne is highly resistible as her hapless hero, waylaid from marrying the inevitable rich girl. And what is John Mills doing in all this? Very little, mercifully. But not, he might think on seeing the results, little enough.

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