Parky at the Pictures (In Cinemas 10/7/2014)

Born in Hamburg the year that Caine headlined Lewis Gilbert's Alfie (1966), Nettelbeck grew up around films, as her father was a critic (as well as a leading music producer), while her mother was an actress and producer. She is also well used to working in English, having debuted with the 1992 short, A Certain Grace, while studying at the San Francisco State University. Yet, while she got off to a decent start in Germany with the foodie comedy, Mostly Martha (2001), and the engaging kidpic, Sergeant Pepper (2004), Nettelbeck failed to impress with her American bow, Helen (2009), a well-meaning, but laboured study of depression that starred Ashley Judd. And, unfortunately, good intentions are similarly undermined by over-deliberation in this unpersuasive May-December saga.

Still distraught three years after the death of wife Jane Alexander, retired philosophy professor Michael Caine attempts to swallow a bottle of pills in his Paris apartment, only to be interrupted by cleaner Michelle Goddet. While recuperating, he wanders around the city to which the bilingual Alexander had insisted they relocate and he struggles to make himself understood at a sandwich shop because he had never bothered to learn the language. As he eats on a park bench, Alexander appears beside him (as either a ghost or a flashback figment) and chides him for not trying harder in French and Caine shrugs and claims that he can always rely on her whenever he needs to make himself understood.

Having visited Alexander's grave, Caine catches the bus and stumbles against a fellow passenger when the driver swerves unexpectedly. Appalled by Thierry Angelvi's testy tirade, twentysomething dance teacher Clémence Poésy takes Caine's side and he offers to buy her a coffee after she walks him home. She declines, but is taken by his old-school courtesy. But it's clear from a phone call to son Justin Kirk back in the States that Caine has not been a particularly good father and he is crushed by the news that Kirk won't be coming to Paris with his wife and son as previously arranged.

The next day, Caine keeps his regular lunch date with old friend Anne Alvaro and she teases him about his resistance to speaking French. He wanders into a philately market and compatriot Richard Hope advises Caine about focusing on Eastern Europe if he is going to start a collection. Pottering on, Caine bumps into Poésy again on the bus and he gets off at her stop in order to keep chatting. She waits with him for a return service so he doesn't have a long walk home and smiles when he corrects her English. As she is about to leave, she slips him her card and suggests he comes along to a cha-cha-cha lesson.

Feeling reconnected with life, Caine opens all the shutters in his apartment in Saint-Germain-des-Prés and the light floods in as he gazes across the rooftops towards the Eiffel Tower. During his next lunch date, he avails Alvaro with what he has learned about Romanian stamps and persuades her to accompany him to the dance class. They enjoy themselves and Poésy congratulates them on their efforts. She is aware that Caine has been trying to catch her eye and urges him to come again soon, as she explains to Alvaro that she speaks good English because her father was also an exile.

Shaving off his white beard, Caine returns to the studio to watch Poésy teach and finds himself being roped into a line dance. She invites him to the park for lunch and he suddenly feels old and foolish and tries to slip away when she goes to buy hot dogs. But Poésy declares that they are now friends and that this will be their special bench. She ribs Caine when he gets mustard on his tie and laughs that he is very like her father. He confides that she reminds him of Alexander, but he refuses to talk about her after noting that it is three years, eleven months and two days since she died.

Despite feeling crushed when he sees Poésy with boyfriend Yannick Choirat, Caine sweeps her off in his car to a country restaurant. She smiles when he irritates a waiter by insisting on choosing his own table addressing him with `tu' instead of the more formal `vous'. But she listens earnestly as Caine describes his time at Princeton and the reasoning behind his decision to give away his books. Poésy wonders whether he has reached that point of loving something so much that the passion turns to disdain and Caine admits that he has grown tired of solitude and is ready to start enjoying life again, even though he has no idea what the future has in store for him.

After lunch, they hire a rowing boat on a lake and Caine is embarrassed when Poésy insists on taking the oars. But he is more stung when the car breaks down and she accepts a lift back to Paris from a passing motorist, as she has a class and can't wait for the repair truck. Left at the side of the road in the rain, Caine wonders what he is doing and, that night, he admonishes himself as he looks at Alexander's photograph. She comes to console him and she asks if he wants to return Stateside. However, he realises that she wants to stay in Paris and agrees that they should remain here together forever (although, again, it is unclear whether this encounter is imagined, experienced or remembered).

At their next meeting, Alvaro breaks the news that she is going to live with a cousin and Caine announces that he is also going home. He starts packing his belongings into boxes and leaves a letter on the table before going to the bathroom to swallow another fistful of pills. This time, he wakes up in hospital with Poésy watching over him. She asks what he was thinking of and he says he couldn't bear the thought of biding his time until death and decided to hurry things along. Poésy tells him she has reached a momentous decision and they hug. But they are interrupted by Kirk entering the room and Poésy goes to fetch some drinks so that father and son can be alone.

Kirk chides Caine for putting his family through the wringer before going in search of sister, Gillian Anderson, who has just flown in and is on her way to the hospital. Poésy is put out that Caine had never told her about his family, as she had been convinced that he was wholly alone. She leaves him to gather her thoughts and is nettled when Kirk accuses her of gold-digging. Snapping back, she asks what he had done to stop his father from feeling so desperate and Kirk jokes to Anderson to get a good look at their new stepmother as Poésy stalks away. Caine warns his children about being polite to Poésy, but the visit is cut short when Anderson is thrown out for smoking in the room.

Unable to bear the thought of staying at their parents' place, the pair check in to a hotel and, while Anderson showers and calls her family back home, Kirk goes to see his mother's grave before drifting over to Caine's apartment. He is peeved when Poésy comes to collect some things and tells her that he only wants what is best for his father. She replies that he should be happy to still have one at his age and Kirk gives her a slim volume of ee cummings so that Caine has something to read. That night, she brings him a Chinese takeaway and tries to explain that she had considered him a kindred spirit when they first met because she thought they were both alone. But she is now happy to share him with his children and Caine admits that he never wanted to be a father and used to marvel at the love Alexander had for them all. He feared being cold like his own father and wound up being worse. But Poésy tells him he still has a chance to make amends.  

Alone in his room, Caine thinks back to the night the ailing Alexander had begged him to help her die. She didn't want to go home and had made Caine promise never to tell Anderson and Kirk that she couldn't face the prospect of having them fuss over her. However, Kirk has convinced himself over the years that Caine had prevented him from saying goodbye to his mother and the tension between them increases when Caine refuses to sell Alexander's house on the Breton coast to help Kirk get his life in order. Caine insists that he is not lonely and refuses to surrender himself into their care and Kirk persuades himself that Poésy is luring his father into a honey trap when he goes to the dance school and watches them together from the shadows.

Anderson is aware that Kirk's wife has left him and, before she heads for the airport, she urges him not to confuse the two issues making him unhappy. Wandering alone, Kirk runs into Poésy and they go for a drink. He inquires why she has befriended his father and she admits that she likes the idea of him protecting her. She asks Kirk why he is so angry and he reveals that his spouse is pregnant by another man and that he scarcely sees his son. But, in trying to patch things up between Caine and Kirk by inviting them to what each thinks is a date with her, Poésy succeeds only in causing a scene in the restaurant  Caine accuses Kirk of not respecting the fact that he has lost the love of his life, while Kirk demands that Caine recognises that he is not the only one grieving for Alexander.

Each regrets his harsh words as they cool down in isolation and, the following morning, Kirk gets into trouble at his father's sandwich bar for ordering in English, while Caine goes to see Poésy to apologise for involving her in a family feud. She has called in sick and refuses to get out of bed, but she jumps up to embrace Caine when he tells her that she is the crack that lets light into his stuffy world of certainty. They go to his apartment to sort out Alexander's clothing and Caine feels a touch uncomfortable on seeing Poésy holding a dress against herself in the mirror. But he delivers bags of items to a charity shop and takes Poésy to St Malo to see Alexander's dream house.

Caine catches sight of his wife as Poésy opens the curtains and he starts sobbing at the kitchen table. However, he is in better spirits after his guest wakes from a nap. He cooks for her and lists the 10 reasons why he cannot take his eyes off her before offering Poésy the cottage as a gift. She protests that it belongs to the family, but Caine insists that she is now part of the clan and is puzzled when she rushes out into the garden. He tells her she has a rose-tinted vision of a kind of domestic bliss and explains how he alienated his already estranged kids by honouring his beloved wife's wishes.

Poésy leaves early next day, while Caine is still sleeping, and he walks on the beach remembering the moment when Alexander told him she was dying. As Caine cries bitter tears of self-pity, Poésy seeks out Kirk and tells him that Caine had never tried to hurt him over his mother's passing. He admits he probably would have tried to force her to come home and accepts that he needs to cut Caine some slack. Poésy is touched that Kirk carries a photo of his son in his wallet rather than on his phone and the audience is asked to believe that these two lost souls suddenly realise at this precise moment that they are made for each other. Moreover, they are also asked to swallow that Caine will just happen to wander in at the end of their first passionate kiss and warn Kirk that he will kill him if he ever makes Poésy unhappy.

But this cloyingly awful penny dreadful development is played with saccharine sincerity, as is the ensuing lunch sequence in which Caine berates Kirk for cheating on his wife with a French popsy. However, Kirk sets his father straight that he is the victim and promises that he will take good care of both his grandson and Poésy. He also begs Caine to be a loving father rather than a stern teacher and display more of the qualities that made Alexander adore him. Caine wells up as he admits he never knew why Alexander picked him and Kirk exhorts him to forgive himself for past mistakes so that they can all finally move on.

Poésy has returned to St Malo and Caine asks Kirk to pass on the message that he has figured out what to do with himself. He apologises for saying that he had been left with nothing when Alexander had died and both men wish they could have said their farewells properly. Kirk leaves and Caine wanders around the apartment. He picks up a photograph of Alexander and turns to see her lying on the bed one last time before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

Some time after the funeral, Caine and Poésy meet on their park bench. They admit to missing each other, but Poésy cheers up when Kirk comes to sit beside her. He tells her that Caine left her the cottage in his will and she is touched. Looking into her eyes, Kirk promises Poésy that he will be back in Paris as soon as he has tied up some loose ends in the States. She nods quietly and they go for a stroll.

The coy conclusion confirms the suspicion that this maudlin melodrama should have been a TV-movie rather than a theatrical feature. The City of Light looks a picture through Michael Bertl's lens, while Stanislas Reydellet's production design neatly contrasts the interiors of Caine's dwelling, Poésy's garret and the various hotel and hospital rooms. But Hans Zimmer's treacly score coats the already viscous action with another layer of stickiness to render it all but immovable and indigestible.

Having amassed over 150 credits during a 60-year career, Caine knows how to work the camera and, even though he fails to persuade anybody that he is a renowned philosopher, he remains front and centre in every scene. The gleefully breezy Anderson steals a few, but the rest are handed to him by the sweetly hesitant Poésy and the glumly monotonous Kirk. But even a seasoned pro like Caine struggles with some of the gaucher passages of Nettelbeck dialogue, which do little to take the cornball curse off Dorner's source scenario.

Consequently, this never convinces on any level and often confuses the viewer in its baffling bid to add a touch of supernatual wistfulness. But, rest assured, the prolific Caine has already completed four pictures since this misfire and is currently filming with Paolo Sorrentino on his sophomore English outing. Let's hope the Italian avoids the pitfalls that claimed Nettelbeck and that she bounces back, as she is a talented film-maker who just needs some better material.

Two decades have passed since Justin Hardy followed father Robin in directing Christopher Lee in a horror film. Set in a public school with a sinister secret, A Feast At Midnight (1994) was never going to surpass The Wicker Man (1973) and Hardy, Jr. has spent all of his subsequent career in television. In addition to directing episodes of London Bridge and The Bill, Hardy has also produced such notable teleplays as The Relief of Belsen (2007) and The Man Who Crossed Hitler (2011). He also recently handled 37 Days, the BBC's eminently sensible account of the desperate round of diplomacy conducted by Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey between the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand on 28 June and 4 August 1914 when Britain declared war on Germany for breaching Belgian neutrality.

However, Hardy changes tack completely in returning to the big screen with Love Me Till Monday, an offbeat romcom set in Reading that examines the dead-end drudgery facing university graduates after they venture into the big bad world weighed down by inflated expectation and debt. Capably scripted by Hardy, Jack Fishburn and Muireann Price, this could easily form part of a double-bill with Mark Simon Hewis's 8 Minutes Idle. But, like that adaptation of Matt Thorne's semi-autobiographical novel, this original scenario feels the need to pitch a few flights of fancy into the quotidian realism, with the result that neither picture is quite as amusing or as perceptive as it might have been.

Twenty-five year-old Georgia Maguire works at DGTL Marketing for boss Tim Plester. She gets on well enough with colleagues Sarah Barratt, Sarah Jayne Butler, Christopher Leveaux and Bennett Warden, but she has an overpowering crush on Royce Pierreson, whom she dubs  HIM. Although she has a degree, Maguire took the job because she could find nothing better and needed an excuse to get out of the house she shares with her mother and younger brother, Ludo Hardy. Mum is away on holiday with her new bloke and Maguire is finding caring for her nerdy sibling a chore. But the main source of stress is the fact that Plester has announced a round of appraisals to see which staff member is the most dispensable.

Warden draws the short straw and Maguire is so relieved at having her contract extended by three months that she decides to doll herself up for Warden's leaving do and make a play for Pierreson. Fancying herself as something of a white witch, Maguire is certain she can enchant her beautiful black workmate. However, it soon becomes clear that she faces competition from Barratt and Maguire is dismayed when everybody piles back to her place after she thought she had given them the slip at the chip shop in order to grab a cab home with Pierreson.

While trying to play hostess, Maguire is mortified when Pierreson finds her Book of English Magic in the kitchen and starts to tease her. However, they slip out into the garden together and Pierreson is moving in for a kiss when Maguire has a panic attack and rushes upstairs to clean her teeth and touch up her make-up to ensure the moment she has longed for is perfect. When she finally returns to the party, however, Barratt has moved in on Pierreson and they slink off into the night, leaving Maguire cursing her timidity.

The following morning, Maguire takes out her frustration on Hardy and ticks him off for having crisps for breakfast and for playing war games while wearing a soldier's helmet. Her mood is scarcely improved on Monday by Barratt beaming at her and implying that she spent the entire weekend in extremely close proximity to Pierreson. Maguire tries to put matters out of her mind by going to the family allotment with Hardy and jogging when not doing housework. But the thought of losing Pierreson to such an unworthy adversary prompts Maguire to consult her book and perform a love spell.

Heading in to town to find a present for Hardy, Maguire bumps into Plester, who takes her to his favourite toy shop. Having been intimidated by his sharp tongue and short fuse, Maguire had always tended to give Plester a wide berth and she looks askance when he starts ranting about conquistadors on the high street. However, she tags along when he offers to show her Jane Austen's school and the gaol in which Oscar Wilde was detained. She is also surprised by the shop, which feels like a throwback to the 1950s, and is delighted to find a model kit of a crusader knight for her brother.

As she wanders home, Maguire wonders if her spell has worked. She bumps into old friend Charlotte Gallagher and, while being regaled about wallpaper, is put out to learn that her ex-boyfriend is doing exceedingly well without her. Back at the office, Plester asks how the gift went down and Maguire confesses that Hardy had hated it. But she has started to see a new side to Plester and is impressed when he calms a confrontation between Leveaux and the bullying Barratt. However, Barratt remains obnoxious and accuses Maguire of being a bitch when she frets that Butler might be jumping to the wrong conclusion when she finds a receipt for jewellery in her boyfriend's pocket.

Already feeling fragile because her mother has phoned to inform her that she's going to get a new stepfather, Maguire goes exploring the Reading she never knew was on her doorstep. However, she remains sceptical when Butler books a room to celebrate her engagement and takes refuge at the bar as Leveaux is goaded into doing a strip. Plester comes over to chat and speculates on the chances of bumping into Maguire in town the next day. She tells him she has promised her brother an outing and is pleasantly surprised when Plester tags along to Reading Museum to see the replica of the Bayeux Tapestry. Hardy is wowed by a 1066 computer game and Maguire is charmed by the way Plester keeps him amused. She allows him to kiss her, therefore, after he drops them off in his open-top sports car and offers to cook for her the following weekend.

Back at the office, Maguire takes little pleasure at being proved right when a bawling Butler announces that her boyfriend had bought himself an expensive watch. But she is touched when Plester serves her a pain au chocolat with a flower on the plate and she returns home to see that Hardy's Battle of Hastings game has helped him make a new friend in neighbour Tyler Gayle.

When the weekend comes, Maguire consults her book for a food spell and picks some vegetables from the allotment. Plester teaches her how to savour wine as he cooks and she makes all the right noises even though she finds his posh fish dish something of an acquired taste. He surprises her after supper by producing a giant bag of Moroccan hashish, but Maguire rolls a joint and becomes sufficiently relaxed to discuss her expectations of life and to inform Plester that she is ready to sleep with him because the trips to the toy shop and the museum count as dates. They have a pillow fight before burrowing under the duvet to undress, but Plester keeps his cowboy boots on as they make love.

On Monday morning, Plester drops Maguire close to the office and kisses her enthusiastically before driving away. However, when he arrives for work to find everyone watching a computer viral, he includes Maguire in the censure and she feels humiliated when he yells at her for trying to use their new closeness to sweet talk him into calming down. He apologises at the earliest opportunity, but Maguire feels uneasy and is hardly reassured when she goes to Plester's office at lunchtime and he insists that nobody can know about their relationship. As she goes out for food, Maguire passes Pierreson and spends the bus journey back to Woodley looking wistfully out of the window. .

On reaching home, Maguire finds a message from Pierreson inviting her for a drink. They get tipsy and dance to the jukebox, while agreeing that men and women are rubbish. As they tumble into Maguire's bedroom and start to undress each other, they realise that they don't have any condoms. The following morning, Maguire makes Pierreson tea and he jokes that he was so wasted that he doesn't remember anything that happened. Feeling foolish and cheap, Maguire realises she has made another mistake and allowed something that should have been special to be spoiled. She cries on the phone to her mum and begs her to come home. Hardy tries to console her with a hug and Gayle joins in, as it seems the right thing to do.

Even though it was a family heirloom, Maguire burns the magic tome and goes for a jog. Unable to face Plester, Pierreson or Barratt, she skives work on Monday morning. But, even though she is determined to take control and make a fresh start, Maguire has clearly learned little from her experience, as her arm brushes against the handsome Joseph Olivennes on the bus and she immediately wonders if he is The One.

Keen to produce a movie that reflected their own experience of leaving university and being herded up a recessional cul-de-sac, Fishburn and Price have produced a pithy, if rather patchy romantic satire on the boomerang generation. They do themselves few favours by claiming that the film lies `somewhere between Downton and TOWIE, between The City and the countryside, between ASBO and PhD', as this pitch hardly reflects the tone of action that is often more akin to a hybrid of Hollyoaks and The Office. Nevertheless, this is directed with brio by Justin Hardy, who makes unfussy use of the Berkshire locations with cinematographer Matthew Wicks and draws spirited performances out of a willing supporting cast.

But the picture is held together by the exceptional Georgia Maguire. Previously known for her work on the BBC2 series, 6Degrees, Maguire sparkily captures the disillusioned detachment of the intelligent twentysomethings who are currently struggling to see where they fit into a society that appears to have allowed them to acquire useless qualifications that disbar them from finding the well-paid work that will allow them to pay off their student loans before they attempt to place a hesitant foot on the ground beneath the first rung on the property ladders. The script may lose focus in suggesting that magic, drink and drugs are the best ways to cope with such unpredictable circumstances, but Maguire rises above such dubious dabbling and the dreamy platitudes of the Will Cookson songs that recur with frustrating frequency on the soundtrack in order to fashion that rare thing in British cinema, an angry young woman.

The reward for Maguire's efforts is a minor role in The Greatest Englishman, Hardy's forthcoming account of Captain Matthew Webb's attempt to become the first person to swim the English Channel in August 1875. As for Fishburn and Price, they deserve huge credit for making such an enjoyable romp for a mere £25,000 and one hopes they managed to raise a bigger budget for the Webb biopic. But there's more than a hint of defensive parochialism about their website boast to have created a credible snapshot about young adults who `don't “date”, or “grab a coffee”, or walk romantically along the Seine in perfectly cut trench coats. They don't hold tight to a handsome man on the back of a Vespa. They dance ironically in circles, drink far too much and snog a friend. They eat cheesy chips or cold quiche at 3am.' If they really had this much faith in their brand of mock middle-class realism, then why did they feel the need to resort to silly subplots about Home Counties witchcraft?

Paul Kelly avoids potential pitfalls by sticking to a tried and trusted formula in How We Used to Live. Following on from Finisterre (2003), What Have You Done Today Mervyn Day? (2005) and This Is Tomorrow (2007), this docu-essay marks another collaboration with the indie band St Etienne and boasts a score by Pete Wiggs and Sarah Cracknell and a script by Bob Stanley and historian Travis Elborough. But this exercise in anti-nostalgic cine-archaeology also swells the ranks of a tradition that has enjoyed something of a mini-boom in Britain since Thom Anderson reinvented the city symphony with Los Angeles Plays Itself in 2003.

Yet, while this adeptly selective trawl through the BFI National Archive shares the wistful romanticism and subtle acerbity of Terence Davies's Of Time and the City (2008), John Akomfrah's The Nine Muses (2010), Penny Woolcock's From the Sea to the Land Beyond and Jarvis Cocker and Martin Wallace's The Big Melt - How Steel Made Us Hard, it feels more like a glorified British Transport Film that has been laced with Free Cinema energy and postmodernist edge, and, thus, sits more comfortably somewhere between Norman Cohen's The London Nobody Knows (1967), Patrick Keiller's London (1994) and Julien Temple's London: The Modern Babylon (2012).

Linked by an everyday Londoner voiced by Ian McShane, the colour clips chronicle the city's social, political, economic and cultural history from the 1950s to the 1980s. As with Ken Loach's The Spirit of ’45 (2013), Kelly and his cohorts approach the immediate postwar period with a reverence that overlooks some of the underlying issues that would mitigate against the utopia envisaged by Clement Attlee's landslide Labour administration. Indeed, there is little room in this survey for poverty, excess, prejudice and fear, as the optimistic emphasis is more on the plucky capital that bounced back from the Blitz to host the 1951 Festival of Britain and then provide the backdrop for the Swinging Sixties.

London is depicted as a place where the elite rubs shoulders with the masses, celebrities with skateboarders, and commuters with mods, rockers and punks. But, in lauding the rise of the Welfare State and outskirts building projects, the film also lingers briefly on scenes of devastation and decay around the wartime bombsites and the abandoned docklands that suggest the survival of a Dickensian legacy in this Second Elizabethan Age. Yet, while this is very much an historical travelogue, it's also a celebration of the people that have given the place its character. Little stress is laid on immigration and gentrification, but it's difficult to go along with McShane's closing contention that London may be forever changing, but it will always remain the same.

Taking its title from both a Yorkshire Television series that ran for several years from 1968 and a track on St Etienne's 2000 Sound of Water album, this is a slickly assembled montage of interviews, news reports and magazine items that are counterpointed by a delightful score and (as with Andrew Kötting's Louyre: In This Our Still Life, 2011) lots of unidentified audio babble. The effect is more poetic than polemical. But, amidst the clips of lost landmarks, rascally kids and trendy girls in the latest fashions, there are still plentiful digs at MPs living on meagre salaries and bygone celebs gazing upwards from beneath their own navels.

The allure of the sun-glinted Thameside vistas and the neon-flecked nightscapes remains undiminished. However, a forced irony compromises some of the juxtapositions, while entire aspects of London life are overlooked entirely. Consequently, while this engages without becoming too misty-eyed, it lacks the dialectical trenchancy that might have made it more potent.

Finally, this week Deborah Perkin's Bastards stands shoulder to shoulder with twentysomething single mother Rabha El Haimer, as she challenges Morocco's Mudawana Family Code in claiming rights for her seven year-old daughter Salma, who faces the dual disadvantage under Islamic law of being both female and illegitimate. Filming over two years, Perkin adopts a style similar to that of Kim Longinotto, with the unprecedented access she gained to the family court in Agadir inviting comparison with both Divorce Iranian Style (1998) and Sisters in Law (2005), which were respectively co-directed by Ziba Mir-Hosseini and Florence Ayisi. But, while it retains a deeply personal focus, this astute documentary also offers a fascinating insight into the charities that aid disenfranchised women and the comparatively progressive workings of the Moroccan judicial system.

In 2001, Rabha's uncle arranged for the 14 year-old country girl to marry city stranger Abdel Ali Al Amiri in a `fatha' ceremony that allowed the father-in-law to stand in for the absent groom. Photographs and a video were taken of the proceedings, but Mohammed Al Amiri reneged on signing any official documents. Trusting her brother, Rabha's mother dispatched her daughter 350 miles to the southern city of Agadir, where she discovered that not only was Abdel Ali mute, but that he was also a violent man who took her virginity with an act of rape and subsequently used coercion to abuse her.

After two years, Rabha became pregnant and she was returned to her village after Abdel Ali repudiated her. At the time, Moroccan law forbade sex outside marriage and upheld the prejudice that effectively cast single mothers and their illegitimate offspring out of society. But, in 2004, child marriage was outlawed and women were given leave to prove the legality of fatha marriages and press paternity suits on fathers who refused to recognise their children. So, having been turned away from an immunisation clinic and been told that Salma would be disbarred from school, Rabha decided to  fight back and sought the assistance of L'Association Solidarité Féminine, which had been founded by Aicha Chenna to mediate between feuding families and ensure that Moroccans stopped despising illegitimate children and accorded them the fundamental right of an equal chance in life.

Rabha clearly resents the role that her parents played in sacrificing her when she was underage. She particularly rails against her mother, who had suggested that she abandoned Salma in order to land another husband. But ASF social worker Soumia Idman is determined to help the illiterate Rabha prove that a marriage was contracted and that she has the right to register the birth of her child and seek a divorce with full monetary compensation. It's evident as Perkin eavesdrops on a phone conversation that Soumia is a formidable woman, as she appeals to the religous and family honour of a recalcitrant father in trying to persuade him to do his paternal duty. But Rabha needs legal expertise and she meets with charity lawyer Naima Amam, who uses her contacts with L'Association des Femmes du Sud for Rabha to be represented in Agadir by experienced human rights specialist, Lamia Faridi.

As she waits for the wheels of justice to start turning, Rabha leaves Salma with her parents in the country and takes a room at the ASF hostel in Casablanca. Among the other 50 residents is Saida Elghazali, who was abandoned by her boyfriend when she refused to sell their baby and a shocking caption reveals that 6500 illegitimate infant are abandoned in Morocco each year. Like Rabha and Saida, Fatima Belmoumni refused to give her child away and she now seeks Chenna's assistance in persuading her 22 year-old son, Moshim Naim, not to quit his legal studies simply because the police have used his illegitimacy as an excuse to reject his application.

After many months of wrangling, Rabha sets off for Agadir. However, things go badly at Inezgane Family Court, as the judge postpones the hearing on finding a mistake in Abdel Ali's summons. Rabha accompanies the court bailiff when he goes to serve the replacement, but Abdel Ali is away herding camels in the Sahara and Rabha is subjected to a volley of abuse from his irate father. Mohammed accuses her of sleeping with other men and Rabha is dismayed to learn that Abdel Ali has married again and is able to send his two young daughters to school while Salma remains a non-person.

Back in Casablanca, Fatiha Rabbah tells Perkin about her 20-year affair with a married taxi driver, who used to buy her expensive presents and take her on trips across the country until she became pregnant. He agrees to a DNA test and Fatiha has the women in the waiting-room at ASF in stitches as she re-enacts the moment the bailiff delivered the papers. But, even though the results prove positive, the cabby refuses to pay maintenance and Fatiha shows Perkin the squalor in which she is trying to raise a daughter who dreams of becoming a lawyer so that she can defend brave women like her mother.

Rabha demonstrates her own courage by heading back to Agadir with some men from her village, who are willing to testify that the fatha ceremony took place and that Rabha gave birth soon after returning home two years later. In court, the judge takes one look at the large bundle of documents before him and is inclined to postpone proceedings. However, Lamia insists that Rabha has gone to too much trouble and expense to have her rights trampled in such a cavalier fashion. Moreover, as Abdel Ali has answered the summons, she persuades the judge to appoint a colleague to hear the evidence in his chambers after the daily session is over.

Forced to wait around, Rabha refuses to be intimidated and denounces her `husband' for growing a beard in the hope of appearing more religious. She jokes bitterly that such duplicity won't cover his sins and chides neighbour Hussein Fadoul for shaking hands with Abdel Ali and Mohammed outside the court. Eventually, the assistant judge begins his hearing and asks Mohammed to interpret Abdel Ali's sign language. He also admonishes the older man for trying to orchestrate proceedings and allows Rabha and Lamia to present their evidence undisturbed.

Mohammed insists that the 4000-dirham dowry that the pair mention was never paid, but Hussein declares on oath that it was confirmed by the village Imam and Abdel Ali Khalidi swears to seeing Radha pregnant after Abdel Ali protests that he refrained from touching her after he realised she was so young. The judge finds in Rabha's favour and she returns to Casablanca to thank Soumia. But Abdel Ali appeals and a year passes before the case returns to court. However, the initial verdict allows Rabha to enrol Salma in school and she takes a job at a café in order to pay the bills. They scarcely see each other, as Rabha's hours are 2pm to midnight. But she has learned both patience and fortitude during her ordeal and Perkin compares her stoic humility with the blowsier Fathia's decision to parade outside her ex-lover's home and lie across the bonnet of his taxi like a glamour model in order to embarrass him.

After three months of waiting, Radha and Salma board a bus for Agadir. The judge rejects the appeal and Lamia congratulates Radha as the documents validating her wedding and legitimising her daughter are stamped. Radha laughs that she is happy to be a wife, as this means she now can divorce and she blows a kiss to the camera, as Salma dances on the shiny floor of the courtroom foyer.

Although she never appears on screen, it's tempting to suggest that Perkin's very presence plays a pivotal part in securing justice for Rabha and Salma. Frustrated by the weight of evidence and the fact that he would have to question a mute witness through his father's interpretation, the judge at Inezgane seems to agree to the after hours hearing in wary response to Lamia adroitly playing up to the camera in arguing against a second postponement. Perkin also clearly brings out the devil in the media-savvy Fathia, who is ready to appear larger than life one moment and demure and destitute the next in order to air her grievance. But it's impossible to remain entirely on the sidelines while making a film in which retaining the trust of the subject is so obviously paramount.

Perkin perhaps overdoes the emotive images of cute moppets gazing wide-eyed into the lens and the space-filling establishing shots contrasting the grandeur of the landmarks of Casablanca and Agadir with the shabby interiors of Rabha's family home, Fathia's bedsit and the ASF refuge. But, as an experienced film-maker for the BBC, she is dounbtless well aware that subtlety and polemics rarely sit easily on screen, especially when the issue at hand is as pressing and contentious as this one. Consequently, Perkin's occasional lack of total objectivity is entirely understandable. Indeed, there are instances when it is more than a little admirable.