The subtly dry irony is carefully drowned to provide a resonance of still further cruelty, the zillionaire sheds his shopgirl as a matter of convenience, a roadie zings her, their feelings are “tender and true” says the ubiquitous narrator, the zillionaire. Like cats, drowned.

Barrington Pheloung’s score mainly provides the fluid lavishly distributed by Tucker’s system of directing, which is a branch office of the superlogistical studio style.