1970s London: an elderly woman living in a van and a closeted playwright searching for a muse. Each one sounds like the protagonist of a typical Hollywood drama, a spectacle to be scrutinized — an outsider with whose daily hardships the privileged viewer must pity. Instead, the British film “The Lady in the Van,” currently playing at Manlius Art Cinema, depicts the visceral relationship between these eccentric characters and is more likely to leave audiences drenched in laughter and affection than voyeuristic amusement.
“The Lady in the Van” reveals the true tale of writer Alan Bennett’s 15-year friendship with neighborhood squatter Mary Shepherd in the London bureau of Camden. Bennett, whose curiosity as a writer compels his intrigue in Shepherd, offers his driveway as the temporary resting location for Shepherd’s van residence more out of laziness than anything. What begins as a trivial acquaintance turns into perhaps the sincerest friendship either has ever had, and Shepherd’s temporary stay lasts more than a decade.
Initially, we see Shepherd engage in comical behavior like tossing a charitable coat to the ground, claiming green to not be her color. She paints her dull grey van with a hideous yellow paint and shoos away friendly neighbors after they present her with Christmas gifts. All the while we watch Bennett tolerate the unapologetic lady in the van.
Despite her odd behavior and rude demeanor, we, like Bennett, cannot help but be intrigued by Shepherd. Bennett struggles over the ethics of exploiting a homeless woman without any loved ones as the center of a potential storyline for his writing career. We, too, feel the same discomfort in identifying her as someone to be observed. However, the hilarious manner with which both he and the film present her makes it so that she is less of a pitiable vagrant and more of an unintentional charmer, someone to be praised and adored.
As the film progresses, and Shepherd’s tragic history unfolds, the apathetic and silly façade she wears becomes unveiled. While this part of the movie risks descending into clichéd sentimentality, the writing and acting remain sturdy enough to carry through.
Two-time Oscar winner Maggie Smith pours all her energy into Miss Shepherd, traversing with ease through all the emotions of a pained individual masquerading as an inconsiderate squatter. Smith is actually an experienced hand at playing this character, having starred in the 1999 West End production originally written by Alan Bennett himself, for which Smith earned a Best Actress nomination at the 2000 Olivier Awards and the play as a whole was nominated for Play of the Year.
Alex Jennings likewise gives a superb performance as Bennett; his lethargic drawl compliments the muted frustration he has toward the woman whom others respond to with loud disdain.
The bleak aesthetics of the film makes for the quintessential host of these quirky characters, and must be attributed to the dedicated effort of director Nicholas Hytner, former artistic director of London’s National Theatre. Hytner successfully creates a fairytale-like yet somber world in which both Shepherd’s idiosyncrasies and burdened past are believable.
The film adaptation benefits from the use of the Camden neighborhood setting where the original story actually occurred. Beyond this difference, Smith insists that the stage production “was more physically demanding” than the film version, though the latter still proved rather difficult since she spent “most of her time confined to one van or another.”
Hytner’s work, in tandem with the performances of Smith and Jennings, suggest that the film adaptation deserves just as much recognition and praise as its source material.
In a genre dominated by sex-crazed, marijuana-smoking 20-somethings, “The Lady in the Van” offers original, more nuanced characters. It demonstrates that comedy can provide an alternative to the solemn-toned drama films with which compelling, multi-dimensional characters are often associated. By showing them in a raw and light-hearted manner, “The Lady in the Van” transcends the restrictive Hollywood definition of what is humorous and bitter sweet.
In other words, the bizarre relationship between a homeless woman and a lonely playwright can be a worthy comedic storyline. Watching the film is certainly a grounding cinematic experience.
To learn information about show times, visit Manlius Art Cinema at 135 E Seneca Street, or check out its website at manliusartcinema.com or call at 682-9817.
