"What's this – catheters at dawn?!" gasps Roland (Griffiths) as his fellow ageing thespians Maurice (O'Toole) and Ian (Phillips) come to blows in their local greasy spoon.

Friends since before Judi Dench was old enough to play Ophelia, Maurice and Ian's doddery double-act has not been the same since Ian took in his grand-niece Jessie (Huddersfield lass Whittaker) from up north.

Expecting a low-cost au pair, Ian finds himself lumbered with a slovenly teenage junk food addict. Maurice, however, is fascinated and miraculously manages to land her a first modelling job.

He also becomes Jessie's personal guide to London, augmenting her cultural experience with wit, wisdom and Bacardi Breezers. In return she gives him a whiff of his hedonistic past. He calls her 'Venus'.

But their May-to-December affair remains platonic. Jessie does occasionally allow him to get his old head on her young shoulders... just not in the way that caused his wife (Redgrave) to leave him years ago.

The unlikely union is interesting in that both parties are taking advantage of one another. For all his charm, Maurice is still just a dirty old man. Yet Jessie uses her sexual advantage for personal gain.

Over time it develops into a warmer, more appropriate relationship. But much of it makes for maudlin, uncomfortable and somewhat unsavoury viewing.

However, O'Toole clearly connects with the material and relishes his trip down Memory Lane with a sly performance that lands him an eighth Oscar nomination.

In her feature debut, Whittaker does exceptionally well to give as good as she gets. It goes without saying that Phillips, Redgrave and Griffiths are a pleasure.

As a writer with edge and honesty, Hanif Kureishi will never please everyone. Even when dealing with luvvies in their golden years, he doesn't do cute and cosy.

Anyone expecting The Last Of The Summer Wine: The Movie has been warned.

Elliott Noble