Chick lit meets global financial meltdown in this extremely untypical Jerry Bruckheimer production - a glossy adap of Sophie Kinsella’s Shopaholic bestsellers that, on the suꩲrface, plays like AmEx And The City.

Yet delve deeper and you’ll see that director PJ Hogan (Muriel’s♏ Wedding) is actually subverting the chick flick template, sat🌞irising his scanty heroine and the consumptive lifestyle that has left her with enough bad debt to justify a government bail-out.

“They said I was a valued custo🎃mer,” sighs Becky Bloomwood (Isla Fisher) when living on the never-☂never finally catches up with her.

“Now they send me hate mail!” Her budding journo - Carrie Bradshaw in all but cheque book - jumps at the chance of
an Ugly Betty-style job on a fashion rag ruled by fearsome editor Kristin Scott Thomas, but she so𝓡mehow winds up working for handsome Brit Hugh Dancy on a financial mag preaching fiscal responsibility.

How long before he finds out she♌’s up to her eyes in red bills? Long enough for some amusing hijinks in Miami, less enterta🐼ining visits to Shopaholics Anonymous and a faintly creepy running gag involving mannequins that come to life.

Dancy could pass for a dummy himself as Becky’s bland love interest, while Joan Cusack and Jo🔴hn Goodman are poorly served as her embarrassing parents.

Thank goodness, then, for the delightful Fisher, a goofily appealing presence ꦯwho - as sh𝔍own in a hilarious dance routine that sees her flirting coquettishly with an antique fan - also happens to be a gifted physical comedienne.

Bꦺetween her and Amꦺy Adams, it’s fair to say the position of perky ginger ingenue is pretty much taken.

Neil Smith