Millionaire businessman Witherspoon (E.G. Marshall) sends for his chauffeur O'Brien (Sean McClory) and gives him a letter to deliver to a certain Casey Meadows (Deborah Foreman). She is currently working as a dishwasher in a restaurant, so when the letter offers her a new life she jumps at the chance and rushes over to meet the appointment. Her new job is as a chauffeur, but the men at the company she goes to for work are most perturbed at the thought of a woman doing what they see as man's work. Casey is given a trial period by her new boss, McBride (Howard Hesseman), in which to prove herself, but there will be surprises along the way...
Sort of the companion piece to My Tutor, My Chauffeur was a showcase for the talents of eighties cult star Foreman, and she was rarely better as the immensely likeable Casey, both of her time and still appealing to the more jaded tastes of today. The plot was little more than fluff, scripted by director David Beaird, but although there was a throwaway quality to it's heroine's escapades against the odds the film managed a few decent laughs, mainly down to Foreman's infectiously bubbly personality shining in every scene.
The storyline tends towards the episodic, with Casey turning up for her latest client and then having a quirky adventure with them for about fifteen minutes. Nevertheless, a plot point about the reasons behind Witherspoon's charity towards Casey comes to fruition over the course of the hour and a half, and it involves uptight businessman, son of Witherspoon as we discover, Battle (Sam J. Jones, yes, Flash Gordon himself). When he meets Casey they get off to a bad start because his girlfriend breaks up with him in the back of the limousine, informing him she's pregnant by another man and promptly leaving.
This leads to Casey trying to calm him down as he downs a bottle of Scotch, then strips naked and charges around the nearest park making a fool of himself. Naturally, he recalls nothing of this when he wakes up the next morning in Casey's apartment - nothing happens, she simply didn't know where he lived and had to take him somewhere to sleep off his drunken stupor. Of course, a romance has to blossom between them, with Casey arousing the need in him to take a break from work every once in a while, loosen up and enjoy life more.
Along with all this, Casey has to contend with the sexism of her co-workers, and there's a neat female empowerment theme going on, all wrapped up in a ditzy story, but still cheering for all that. Among her clients are a British rock star (Leland Crooke) with a dodgy accent who Casey gets to the gig on time for the first time in ages, despite the brief pause to steal a blue woman's underwear, and none other than magicians Penn Jillette and Teller, doing their schtick and parting some party girls from their clothes. That is all as may be, but this is Foreman's film all the way, as she navigates around some wrong-sounding "daring" dialogue and proves herself one of the brightest of the actresses of her era. It's movies like this that make you wish she had had greater success and see why she makes so many viewers nostalgic. Music by Paul Hertzog.
