This embarrassing thriller is filled with dialogue that has an unreal ring, and a cast that sound as though they're acting 99 per cent of the time. Sigourney Weaver, who is, with Michael Caine, one of the only two actors most people will recognise, is disturbed by her living conditions - she invites the landlord in to mend the plumbing while she's in the bath - and her low pay at a research institute. 'How do you manage on £150 a week? ' she asks her upper-class twit colleague. 'I don't,' he replies. 'My parents own a small merchant bank.' Not having such essentials to fall back on, Sigourney joins an escort agency, wining, dining and bedding men at a rate sufficient to set her up in luxury in about a fortnight. That's where Caine comes in. He's a political 'fixer' who becomes interested in Siggy for herself. 'Don't put walls around me, Sam,' she warns. 'China was full of walls. I'm sick of them.' Still he goes ahead and the lurking camera, and music (changed from romantic to ominous) indicates that Someone Is Watching It All. Thereafter, the script never disappoints in its utter predictability. Good title, though. Perhaps the film-makers should have started again from that.

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