I had seen adverts for St Trinian’s on the Underground before Christmas, and was slightly confused about who the target audience was.  By all accounts, St Trinian’sis a “tweenage” girl’s dream: it features a large cast of girls that any impressionable young lady might aspire to.  Yet the publicity was clearly aimed at pervy men (girls in school uniform with too much make-up and suspenders…).  Perhaps the hope was that dodgy men would take their daughters to see the film.

It wasn’t far into the film before I began to see that my suspicions were not unfounded.  There was a decidedly adult feel about the movie, which called into question the 12A rating.  Part of the group I watched the film with was an 11-year-old girl: I am sure that many of the jokes went over her head.

The storyline was far-fetched, but you can’t expect much else from a rather camp film about tearaway teenagers.  St Trinian’s school is a dumping ground for “ungovernable” girls, under the very liberal (almost anarchic) Camilla Fritton, ably played by Rupert Everett in drag.  As with any school, the girls are immediately typecast into social groups (The Posh Totty group, The Geeks, The Emos, etc).  This is not a film for realistic social commentary, but comedy was often extracted from the social groupings in fairly intelligent ways.

The chief figure of authority in the school is the Head Girl Kelly, played by Gemma Arterton.  She appears to mastermind a complex system of moneymaking, with the girls mass-producing a brand of potent vodka and then trying to flog it to dense wheeler-dealer Flash Harry (the perfectly-cast Russel Brand).  The girls are trying to diversify their industry, introducing Flash to their latest product (tampons) with comic effect.

The main plot-line follows the school’s financial uncertainty.  The school is served a notice of bankruptcy, and the girls take it upon themselves to make £500,000 to sake the school by stealing a painting from the National Gallery.  In a plot-line clearly devised just to get Stephen Fry starring, the girls have to get to the finals of “Schools Challenge”, a quiz-show somewhere between University Challenge and QI.

The sub-plot was far more interesting for someone of a few years older and of the opposite gender to the target audience.  Newly-appointed Minister for Education wishes to reform the education system, starting with the very worst school: St Trinian’s.  Colin Firth brings his typical je ne sais quoi to the film, along with as many Pride and Prejudice gags as you can get your hands on.  Ms Fritton’s dog (naturally called Mr Darcy) likes to hump the minister’s leg, leading to an entertaining gift for the attending press pack.  In another scene, he is caught with his trousers down in front of the “Posh Totty” clique; cue a slapstick sequence of being thrown from a window into a swimming pool, then a trademark “Wet Shirt” scene.  It is a testament to the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (and, indeed, to Firth’s performance in it) that the chief male protagonist has been unable to see the back of it.

So, there was something in St Trinian’s for everyone.  There was a silly plot-line involving save-the-day schoolkids for the girls to enjoy, enough adult jokes to entertain the middle-aged, and more female flesh than should be allowed (including a daring scene including a shower, stolen clothes and a number of “hidden” cameras).

If you want an Oscar-winning piece of art, don’t see St Trinian’s.  But if you want a bit of camp fun with a plot more holey than Mother Theresa, a Gatling gun joke rate, and a wide spectrum of entertainment, then it’s well worth a fiver.  It’s a very well-made film, and very entertaining.  It’s no masterpiece, but it doesn’t pretend to be.