She must be at least thirty! squeak the privileged brides-to-be in Wellesley, “that finishing school disguised as a college”, as subversive art lecturer Julia Roberts so eloquently expresses it. It’s 1953 and the old values prevail as much as the long shadow of WW2 lingers among the women and the elitist daughters of society who are more interested in being married than establishing their own careers. Roberts is a migrant from California and just doesn’t get it and her freewheeling teaching style lands her in the soup. Bitchy class bully Kirsten Dunst wants to teach her a lesson and her editorials on the campus newspaper land Juliet Stevenson out on her ear for handing out contraception to some students. Dominic West is the philandering Italian lecturer who sleeps with students and has a secret of his own, while Julia’s reunion with longtime love John Slattery goes hopelessly wrong and she turns to her colleague for respite. The fraudulent lives of people and what they do to cope and how they live with themselves is the real subject here, as liberalism brushes up against conservatism and you’re not quite sure who wins at the end. Beautifully shot, with some good performances wrapped up in those long skirts and saddle shoes. Written by Lawrence Konner and Mark Rosenthal, directed by Mike Newell, this made a lot of headlines over Roberts’ salary – at 25 million, it made her the best paid actress of all time. It may be circumscribed in some ways but there are nice supporting performances by Donna Mitchell, Marian Seldes and Marcia Gay Harden, while Maggie Gyllenhaal gets a good showcase as the promiscuous girl who sees through the hypocrisy.