She is sent to live in an ultramodern flat belonging to Bernie, the magazine's top photographer – ostensibly for her safety, but in reality to prevent her from being poached by rival publications.

Matt – a younger, up-and-coming photographer – urges Marisa to leave, claiming that Neville, Margaret and Bernie see her as nothing more than a "money-making machine".

[3] According to Warren, producer Bachoo Sen had approached Richard Schulman, owner of London's Paris Pullman Cinema, with a proposal to set up a film production partnership.

"[5] Her Private Hell was written by Glynn Christian, a New Zealand immigrant who based the story on his own experiences as a foreigner living in 1960s London.

Botting speculates that Sen cast Modugno and Ollier to boost the film's appeal to audiences in continental Europe.

[4] Warren described Her Private Hell as "not a great film", but added that it "[made] a lot of money at the box office and that was very good for my reputation.

It also stated: "The picture could have been a sharp, bitter (and perhaps, deserved) attack on the unpleasant means of money-making that can be behind an apparently innocent and well-behaved venture.

It misses this admirable chance, however [...]"[1] Botting states that while the story "may seem a little far-fetched", the film overall "manages to be more than just a 'dull tit-and-bum parade'," commenting that its cast and direction "[raise it] above its genre and limitations."

[3] McGillivray calls Her Private Hell a "fine example of British independent exploitation cinema" but argues that Ollier's character may qualify as "the screen's dullest love interest".

He suggests that various aspects of the film, including its title sequence, were unwittingly influenced by the French New Wave, while the suspenseful scenes of Marisa's arrival at Bernie's flat give "a foretaste of the horror director Warren was to become".

[3] Drawing comparisons with European art cinema, Sam Dunn of the BFI notes that the scenes of Marisa's pick-up from the airport are without music or audible dialogue, creating a "distinctly un-British" feel.

He considers Her Private Hell to be influenced by "arthouse sensibilities" but still "a slice of exploitation cinema [...] the film is always fighting that tension between quality and trash."

However, he adds that the cast's "solid if rarely remarkable" performances "elevate the characters above the 'sexploitation' norm", and that despite its weaknesses, the film manages to keep the audience interested.