The Lady in the Van

A very entertaining, and occasionally touching, film written by Alan Bennett, a British National Treasure - though I'm sure he must be irritated, if not sickened, by being so described. His unique voice is instantly recognisable: self-knowing, self-mocking, never ever self-regarding. In spite of a string of stage and screen successes, he is essentially a man of letters: there is a literary quality about his work, and a good deal of his humour emerges from the contrast between the elegance of his sentences and the earthy, realistic observations they contain.

Bennett adapted his memoir about Miss Shepherd, whose residence is the eponymous vehicle (one of a series of vehicles, as it turns out) that occupies his driveway for fifteen years, for the stage, which brought director Nicholas Hytner and actors Maggie Smith and Alex Jennings on to the project. All three return for this film version, and an excellent job they make of it.

Bennett slyly juggles a number of subplots without you ever really being aware that is what they are. When they are finally identified and tied up in a package, it feels a little too neat and tidy after all that sprawl - an interesting comparison is Charlie Kaufmann's bleaker vision of a writer's struggle with a piece of work, Synechdoche New York - but Bennett's droll dialogue, and his clear-sightedness over the way compassion intertwines with guilt, compensates for the sense of well-made screenplay that dominates the closing section of the film.

Highly recommended.

"Lady in the Van" from 2015 is the "mostly" true story of playwright Alan Bennett's relationship with a woman who lived in various vans parked in his driveway for fifteen years. Bennett here is played by Alex Jennings, and the lady, Miss Shepherd, Maggie Smith.

Miss Shepherd, who smells awful from not bathing, lives in a crowded van and moves it from place to place, staying until she's thrown out or until she hears music. When she's told to move or do something else, she yells, as only Maggie Smith can do, "I'm a sick woman! Dying possibly!" Alan finds it impossible to break from her, though he tries. She prays very fervently and one time tells him that she spoke to the Virgin Mary at the post office. When he asks if the van is insured, she says she doesn't need it, she's insured in heaven. "So what happens if you have an accident?" Alan asks. "Who pays? The Pope?"

Alan is gay, though his friends are always trying to fix him up with a woman. One day Miss Shepherd says, "All those people who come and go in the dark, I know who they are." "Oh, Jesus," he says under his breath. "They're Communists!" she hisses. "Otherwise they wouldn't come and go in the dark."

Miss Shepherd is a woman of mystery - Alan finally learns that she studied piano, speaks fluent French, and was a nun. She also at times is seen going to someone's house in the dead of night. A man opens the door and comes outside. And someone stops by her van from time to time, and she gives him money.

In the end, we learn who these people are, her story of the convent, the history of her piano-playing, why she prays all the time, and who the men are.

Alex Jennings is perfect as Bennett (who appears at the end of the movie). He has his voice down pat, and in the film, there are two Alans - the writer Alan and the observer Alan, who talk with one another throughout the film. It's Alan who lives in the real world who encourages the writer Alan to be helpful to Miss Shepherd.

I am so privileged to have seen Maggie Smith in "Lettice and Lovage," one of my greatest evenings in the theater, where I laughed until I cried. At the end of that play, she gets on the phone and does a serious, touching monologue. She does the same here. Instead of the crazy homeless lady with the plastic bags we see and laugh at and wonder about during the play, she does a monologue that tells us who she is, and about her pain, heartbreak, and disappointments. "Why did you choose to be homeless?" Alan asks. "I didn't choose," she insists. "It was chosen for me."

A wonderful film about an uptight, cold man and a disturbed religious bag lady - you won't soon forget it.

When you see vagrants sleeping rough in doorways it is grimly fascinating to wonder how they got there. Was it a gradual descent due to drink or drugs? Or was it an 'explosive decompression' – an event so dramatic it capsized an otherwise stable existence? In a gripping pre-title sequence, it is the latter that sets up the back-story for Miss Shepherd – the titular "Lady in the Van" played by the marvelous Dame Maggie Smith.

Based on a "mostly true" story, Miss Shepherd lives in an old Bedford van progressing from unwelcome parking space to unwelcome parking space in the well-to-do Gloucester Crescent in Camden (a street that strangely the Google Streetview car has never ventured down!).

This introduces us to a selection of the local residents, including – bizarrely – the wife of composer Ralph Vaughan-Williams (Frances de la Tour). The wily Miss Shepherd can however spot a soft touch from miles away and latches onto the newest resident, famous playwright Alan Bennett played (in multiple concurrent forms) by Alex Jennings (doing a fine impersonation). When yellow-lines necessitate action, Miss Shepherd wheedles her van onto his driveway for "three months": three months that turns into 15 years.

I was in two minds from the trailer as to whether I wanted to see this film or not, and I'm so pleased that I did. What stands out, and what makes it so enjoyable, is the whip-smart and intelligent script by Bennett, based on his memoirs. The use of two Bennetts – one 'doing the writing' and one 'doing the living' – could be considered contrived, but allows the frustrations and inner demons (concerning his ailing mother 'up north') to be given a witty and articulate voice.

Despite getting progressively typecast as a vaguely batty old woman, Dame Maggie excels as the troubled Miss Shepherd – it is difficult to imagine many other actresses being able to pull off this larger than life role any better. When pathos is required (e.g. "Why did you choose to live like this?"; "I didn't choose… I was chosen") she delivers it in heart breaking fashion. But her more comic pronouncements, such as the one about the number of "young men" visiting Bennett's house at "every hour of the day and night" obviously being "communists", were hilarious. What appears on the surface to be a mildly humorous movie turned out to have some serious belly-laughs.

Less successful in the film is the normally excellent Jim Broadbent, playing a retired copper with an unhealthy interest in the old lady. While this may have been a true part of the story, it really didn't come across very satisfactorily, and the scenes seem brash and out of kilter with the mood of the rest of the film.

A selection of cameos in the film include Dominic Cooper ("Captain America", "Mamma Mia") and (proving how long this film has been in the can) the now US celebrity presenter James Corden.

The slightly surreal ending of the film, set in a graveyard, might not be to everyone's taste, but I personally enjoyed it and it added to the kookiness of what turned out to be a pretty kooky film.

The film is directed by Nicholas Hytner. Although having a few notable movies to his credit ("The Madness of King George", "The History Boys"), he is better known as a regular director for National Theatre productions in London, and the film does have something of a 'stagy' feel about it. But as an example of a quintessential British film, based on a 'true' subject that seems barely credible, it makes for a heart-warming and highly entertaining trip to the movies. And in this week of the dreadful events in Paris, we could all do with that. Recommended.

(Please visit bob-the-movie-man.com for the graphical version of this review. Thanks).

At the bottom of the poster it says: 'This is a mostly true story.' Nicholas Hytner directs a 'revisionist' take on Miss Shepherd, the tramp-like old biddy who parked her van in Alan Bennett's front drive for a few weeks that turned into 15 years. The movie version fleshes out her story with glimpses of her past (a convent, a piano recital, a family feud, a fatal accident) which the narrator (one of the two Alan Bennetts played by Alex Jennings) tells us he only found out after she died.

A woman in front of me whispered to her companion, who wondered why Alan Bennett had a twin, that he actually had a split personality. That's not a bad explanation for the device of the householder Alan who puts up with Miss Shepherd (and clears her mess from his drive) and the writer Alan who doesn't think there's a story in this. I'm not sure that the double-act is entirely effective or necessary: a voice-over from the real Alan would have worked just as well, wouldn't it?

Despite the attempts to give the Lady a life before the Van, the screenplay is more revealing about the playwright, the reluctant Samaritan who is also having to deal with his northern mother's journey down the road to dementia. There are even a few references to the fact that Mr Bennett's sexuality was being questioned for many years before he finally outed himself.

The movie has more pace than the book and the play did. Maggie Smith is of course simply magnificent, fully absorbed into the grimy skin of this unlovable old harridan. Her performance is pitched midway between the Duchess of Downton and Muriel from the Marigold Hotel, although the character preposterously blends Hyacinth Bucket with Victor Meldrew. The 'History Boys', who largely owe their careers to Mr Bennett, pop up in a series of cameos, along with Frances de la Tour and Stephen Campbell-Moore from the same play. Jim Broadbent's scrounger is the least convincing presence and is perhaps mostly untrue.

This looks like being another highly competitive year for Oscars and BAFTAs, but Dame Maggie is certain to be a contender and could well be a winner. THE LADY IN THE VAN is not pitch-perfect in the way that THE HISTORY BOYS was (and the first - best - MARIGOLD HOTEL), but it is another master-class exemplar of British writing, acting and film- making.

The film begins with our protagonist Miss Shepherd (Smith) driving through the English countryside hoping to avoid a policeman. There is blood splattered against her cracked windshield and a flustered look on Shepherd's face. We then meet our narrator Alan Bennett (Jennings) a playwright who has just moved to the quiet middle-class neighborhood of Camden. He is of two minds; one who writes fastidiously while the other takes care of the daily functions of his life. The doppelgangers argue about the trajectory of his work, both deciding he lacks the excitement of Hemingway and the complexities of Proust. Then Miss Shepherd moves into the neighborhood, setting her dilapidated van along the street to the horror of Camden's well-to-do residents.

Dame Maggie Smith has had a long and illustrious career to be sure. A consistently tremendous force on the stage and screen, Smith has been in show-business since the 1950's and not once has she faltered with an abysmal performance. The Lady in the Van is certainly no exception. She takes on the role she first popularized on the stage play with gusto relishing in the tiniest little moments that breathe life into Shepherd. So popular was her portrayal on stage that she was nominated for Best Actress at the Olivier Awards and this year she was similarly nominated for a Golden Globe.

Alas The Lady in the Van is not simply about Shepherd and her cantankerous run-ins with neighbors, social workers and Alan. Alan's struggle to come to terms with his sickly mother, his circumspect sexuality and his writing, at one point putting on a monologue on London's West End which goes badly. Alex Jennings tries hard to make his duel role stick but his periodic subplots feel airy, lack conflict and pad time in between Smith's charming homeless-woman stunts and his own droll voice-over narration. He's not a real character or at least one we really care about. He's simply the vessel in which the story carries itself while Smith is the showcase.

While it's easy to see how this film's source material is stage- driven, director Nicholas Hytner does a fine job elevating the story in a more cinematic way. He used his eye to similar aplomb in The Madness of King George (1994) which delved into similar themes albeit in a much grander way. We get a picturesque view of springtime Camden with all the trappings of upper-middle class opulence. In such an environment, Shepherds garish van sticks out like a sore thumb jabbing at the neighbors sensibilities. Despite the main conflict surrounding what the neighborhood should to with their local reprobate, none of them are treated as outright monsters. The film takes place within a 15-year time span thus what eventually becomes a nuisance morphs into a local mainstay.

There's one piece of The Lady in the Van puzzle that must be addressed and that is the outstanding score by five time Oscar nominee George Fenton. His original music is grand and bittersweet which perfectly matches the emotional core of the film. He borrows some insightful leitmotifs from Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky while also presenting some specific pieces by Schubert and Chopin. One particular piece; an impromptu by Schubert does such a good job portraying the sadness and sense of guilt of Miss Shepherd, that it ranks up there with the Chopin ballad scene in The Pianist (2002) as best example of classical music translating character emotion.

Yet in spite of some stellar music, one showstopping performance on the part of Maggie Smith and a kindly message about transience, The Lady in the Van can't help but feel almost too sweet. It's a movie that will put a warm smile on your face and keep it there but it won't stick with you long after you've left the theater. That's not altogether a bad thing though; if you're craving for some wholesome entertainment sure to warm your heart, The Lady in the Van is certainly worth your time.