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Bombshell pulls off the difficult trick of creating a believable sci-fi future; it's a trick that many higher budget movies have failed at, but director Paul Wynne knows that technology should simplify life not complicate it, so he opts against the usual blinking lights and dark sets , choosing instead a streamlined, colour-coded world. It oozes camp panache, both in the production design and in the performances from a strong cast of under-rated actors, who are photographed like models in a fashion spread.

Henry Thomas is admirably non-butch for a leading man (especially one who has just 24 hours to find out why his kidney has been replaced with a bomb). Frank Whalley does the nervous-nice-guy-with-hidden-depths routine he perfected in Swimming With Sharks, Madchen Amick fights like girls really do (pulling hair, kicking, shouting - no graceful pseudo-karate here) in defense of her mono-kidneyed man, and Pamela Gidley sparkles in a cameo as a predatory reporter with perfect lipgloss.

Bombshell glories in its influences; the sets are strong and sparse and would have made Kubrick smile, LA is eerily empty in a Planet Of The Apes-type way, the waitress is Marilyn in pink latex, and the corporate overlord with unscrupulous business practices is played by Bladerunner veteran, Brion James. The cars look like giant Hotwheels.

If you find the plot thin, silly even, then you're missing the point; Bombshell has a tongue wedged firmly in its cheek, and is all the better for it. Enjoy the ride...