Out of the central trio of characters – playboy David, businessman Linus and chauffeur’s daughter Sabrina – only the titular figure is intended to be innocently likeable, thus to carry the audience. Perhaps Wilder was bored of flawless idealists. For me the setup failed; Hepburn’s robotic narration not much better than her flat performance, the character requiring more than carefully lit gazing eyes. Bogart was much more interesting and I found myself wanting to get behind his Linus when the film did not. Dark for a rom-com, the movie is reminiscent of The Apartment 6 years later, a comparison which does nothing in favour of this embryonic effort. But, though spread thin for a Wilder picture, it nevertheless boasts his signature whip-smart dialogue and sense for structure and effect, and the denouement is excellent. Yet it wasn’t til he had a go with Lemmon and MacLaine that he mastered the themes.