Featured image courtesy of the Savannah Film Festival website.
Maggie Smith, apparently, can do no wrong. There’s a sincerity in every one of her performances that can go any way she so pleases. I was a little concerned going into the theater that by taking on a character comparably disheveled to her more famous roles such as Minerva McGonagall and the Dowager Countess, that I wouldn’t be able to buy it. Thankfully I was wrong.
Directed by Nicholas Hytner, “The Lady in the Van” is the film adaptation based on Alan Bennett’s auto-biographical play about his unexpected bond with Miss Shepherd (Maggie Smith), an eccentric homeless woman who parks his van in his driveway for 15 years.
This not unfamiliar territory for Smith, who has played the same role on the London stage. Miss Shepherd is cantankerous and difficult woman. She is the very definition of stubborn, claiming that anywhere she parks was by direction of the Virgin Mary, and if anyone tries to disagree she reminds them that she is a “sick woman” and they must pity her. There’s always an excuse up her sleeve as to why she’s dirty, or why she didn’t properly mix the paint on her van. It’s all in defense of a horrible sin that she refuses to believe she’s atoned for; in the words of her priest, “absolution is not like a bus pass, it doesn’t run out.” You empathize with her enough to feel sad that she has not realized that yet. And while you pity her, there’s a nobility in Smith’s performance, so you always find yourself taking her side. I felt conflicted as a viewer, but felt myself being sucked deeper and deeper into the grey area.
Played by Alex Jennings, Alan suffers through this unwilling relationship, but is too timid to tell her to leave. Between himself and the writer persona that he speaks to, he argues about this on a daily basis. On top of his tip-toeing around his homosexuality, you really want him to grow some backbone and speak his mind to someone other than himself. For someone with incredible posture, Jennings sure knows how to play someone without a spine.
Along with his neighbors in Camden, they tolerate Miss Shepherd: they bring her crème brûlée and give her brushes to paint her van a ghastly shade of yellow, while complaining among themselves in private about they are to do with her. Miss Sheperd’s smell is almost a character itself because of its significance in their daily lives, along with how she handles her waste. It’s a comical dance, watching them try to be good and charitable in the hopes that she will leave and never bother them again. It’s a bitter statement on human nature, often resulting in some laughable moments. We can credit Bennet’s deadpan humor in his writing; clever and perfectly timed.
“The Lady in the Van” pulls you in two directions: one minute you’re laughing hysterically, the next you need a few tissues. It’s an emotional ride, but one worth seeing through to the very end.
