The Lady in the Van

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Nicholas Hytner/Starring: Maggie Smith, Alex Jennings, Jim Broadbent, Dominic Cooper, Gwen Taylor and Frances de la Tour

Adapted from the stage play of the same name, The Lady in the Van tells what the opening subtitles refers to as a mostly true story. Famed British playwright Alan Bennett was a character in his own play and is now again in director Nicholas Hytner's film adaptation. The film version is a confluence of considerable talents; Bennett, filmmaker Nicholas Hytner (The Madness of King George, The Crucible) and Dame Maggie Smith, who always seems to be brilliant in whatever she's cast.

The play is based on Bennett's own experiences; as he became a kind of host to a homeless woman named Margaret Shepherd (Maggie Smith); who parked her shabby van in various street locations in Camden Town, London until it came to rest in the playwright's driveway during the 70s' and 80s'.

When the film begins, we see Margaret eluding a police officer on a rural road after we hear what sounds like a terrible accident. We never see the accident itself nor do we know any specifics; we only see Margaret elude the police car that gives chase to her van. The accident, and the fact that Margaret takes flight, assume a greater significance as the story unfolds.

Later, we see Margaret living in the same van in a street in Camden. Her shabby, unwashed appearance and her van's ragged condition rapidly become an eyesore for the residents of the street; particularly for playwright Alan Bennett (Alex Jennings), who has just purchased a house. Warned about Margaret's vexing tendency to squat her van where she will, Bennett becomes well-acquainted with the old woman after she imposes on him to use his restroom. The disgust Bennett feels is made manifest in the following scene when we see him give his toilet a thorough scrub-down.

Who is this woman who is curt, ill-mannered and thinks nothing of venting her hostility on the residents of the street? Bennett's story gives us some idea and in doing so, shows us a troubled woman with a fascinating past whose life is one of self-imposed squalor. But as talented a writer Bennett may be, his story--and Margaret--fail to hold my attention or sympathy. Though Smith plays the dickens out of the character and though certain aspects of Margaret's life are interesting, the character nevertheless remains a noxious pest who demands everyone accommodate her whims and overlook her accumulated filth. I found my patience sorely tried as I watched Margaret rage at her neighbors and everyone who dared to approach her van.

Equally annoying is Bennett's doppelganger, who he talks to incessantly. As it becomes clear Bennett intends to make Margaret the subject of a play, his other begins to express his qualms.

As the story moves along; Bennett writes and tends to his plays on London's West End while also enduring Margaret's difficult personality and habits. But he also begins to learn about her past. He discovers she once drove an ambulance in World War II and was an accomplished pianist who studied under a world class musician in Paris. The darker part of her past comes to light when he also learns Margaret was a nun in a convent, where her musical abilities were sternly suppressed by intolerant nuns.

But the film isn't only about Margaret but Bennett himself. We see the difficulties in his own life as he is forced to commit his aging mother to a nursing home when she becomes ill and stricken with dementia. One of the film's bitter ironies is Bennett becoming Margaret's caretaker while his mother suffers from want of her son's attention.
Bennett's romantic status becomes an minor issue as it becomes abundantly clear that Bennett seeks a man to fill an emotional void. Male colleagues from the theater and strange men become a common sight at his home. The men sometimes peer into Margaret's van, only to be given an angry brush-off.

What was supposed to be a temporary stay in Bennett's driveway becomes a long-term, residential nesting as months stretch to years. As a result, Bennett becomes to understand if not condone Margaret's bad behavior; including her slovenly ways, which become increasingly vile as time goes by. Bennett is appalled to find feces in his driveway, an indignity he bears with superhuman equanimity. He also puts up with frequent visits by a social worker, who brings Margaret supplies and chides Bennett for not being more charitable.

The accident we hear but do not see at the beginning of the film becomes a source of almost crippling guilt as Margaret's frequent visits to confession fail to offer assuage her conscience. The guilt is compounded by frequent visits of the officer (Jim Broadbent) who witnessed Margaret flee the scene of the crime and who also shakes her down for hush money. What actually occurred during the so-called accident is finally revealed near the film's latter half.

In getting to know Margaret, Bennett also becomes aware of other aspects of her life, including her brother, who has had difficulties of his own dealing with his troublesome sister.

Bennett manages to bring Margaret's story-and a significant part of his own-to a neat conclusion and in the end we see that, in spite of the the problems she visited on Bennett, he acknowledges her impact on his life, which is more significant than he imagined.

I can understand why Bennett was inspired to write about Margaret but I have to admit, I found the film--and her--irritating. I give credit to Bennett and his neighbors for their ability to tolerate her presence but I found her insufferable beyond endurance. I spent most of the film feeling impatient with Margaret. There are charming pests and ne'er do wells in cinema; people who aren't necessarily likable but are nevertheless stimulating company but Margaret ain't one of them. Bennett wants us to find this homeless woman, with her complicated past, compelling. But even Maggie Smith's terrific performance couldn't rescue Margaret from being an irritant. The fact that she seeks absolution from a church that for all intents and purposes squelched her musical talents does make for more interesting irony but there is little else about Margaret I would want to know about. But though I found the film to be tiresome, I might recommend it to someone if for nothing more than to see Maggie Smith.
I didn't care--as stated earlier--for his eccentric use of a Bennett-double, which didn't really help illuminate his interior life.

The Lady in the Van probably plays better onstage than on a movie screen. After all, Bennett's dramatic medium is the theater, not the cinema, and plays seldom make a successful transition to the big screen. Some stories can only be told in live theater; Hytner's is one of them.

The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: John Madden/Starring: Judi Dench, Bill Nighy, Dev Patel, Maggie Smith, David Strathairn, Celia Imrie, Ronald Pickup, Diana Hardcastle, Tina Desai, Shazad Latif, Lillete Dubey, Tamsin Greig and Richard Gere

The (mostly) merry band of senior expatriates are back in John Madden's The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which apart from an unwieldy title, offers no surprises and no departures from the safe, the pleasant and the bland. At least dementia didn't work its way into the story. Or maybe that would have helped.

One might feel like a right bastard dismissing a movie mainly conceived for an audience in their dotage; one that is so inoffensive and like one of the characters, Sonny Kapoor (Dev Patel), so eager to please. So I'll tread lightly because though I'm no spring chicken myself, I'm hardly the target audience for the film.

This time around, an American has come to stay. The mysterious Guy Chambers, played by Richard Gere, may or may not be a hotel inspector appraising the The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel for a possible American investor who Sonny and Muriel Donnelly (Maggie Smith) hope to coax into pouring dollars into a prospective franchise in Jaipur, India. The film opens with the ever curmudgeonly Muriel and her young, Indian partner Sonny motoring on the San Diego freeway to meet said potential investor Ty Burley (David Strathairn). Sonny's overly-ingratiating manner and manic motor of a mouth almost hobble their modest proposal until Muriel intervenes. Unfortunately for Sonny and Muriel, an agreement or promise is denied them as they return to Jaipur.

Back in Jaipur, we reacquaint ourselves with the permanent fixtures of the Marigold Hotel as Sonny conducts a morning roll-call to insure none of the occupants we have come to know have passed during the night (the morning roll call also serves as a kind of running gag). Still around are Evelyn Greenslade (Judi Dench), Douglas Ainslie (Bill Nighy), the ferocious flirt Madge Hardcastle (Celia Imrie), Norman Cousins (Ronald Pickup) and Carol Parr (Diana Hardcastle) and of course Muriel, who can never answer morning roll call without a grumble. Sonny and his fiancee Sunaina (Tina Desai) manage the hotel and see to the needs of all who stay.

The film then does its best to create a story where each of the character's problems and desires make up multiple narrative threads. The situations:

• Sonny and Sunaina's marital plans are threatened by Kushal, a potential rival for the fiancee's affections, who instructs the couple on their wedding dance moves and whose purchase of another hotel jeopardizes Sonny's plans for his franchise.

• Muriel, who receives a devastating diagnosis; the details we're never made privy to. She never shares the grim news with the other hotel guests but our awareness of her condition casts a pall of gloom over the entire film.

• Evelyn, who resists Douglas' very subtle courting initiatives. The two spend the entire movie flirting then backing off one another. Evelyn also accepts a position with a big time textile exporter, which provides her an income and a sense of purpose. Douglas must contend with his estranged wife, who has returned to India to formalize their divorce.

• Madge Hardcastle, who woos everyman who doesn't wear a wedding ring. Though several wealthy Indian men serve as strong candidates, she ultimately finds her man where she least expects.

• Norman Cousins, who first believes Carol, the love of his life, is a target of an assassination attempt, which means clinging to her side at all hours of the day and tailing her, only to discover a truth less life-threatening but nevertheless unpalatable.

• Lavinia Beech (Tamsin Grieg), a newcomer to the Marigold, whose seemingly casual nature masks something more sinister. Lavinia, like some of the other occupants of the Marigold, finds romance, which is fulfilled by romancing Sonny's rival Kushal.

• And Guy Chambers, who, like Lavinia, may not be who he appears. And like Lavinia, he too is smitten by a native's charms. That he falls for Sonny's mother (Lillete Dubey) complicates life at the Marigold, for Sonny believes Guy is secretly the inspector whose assessment of the hotel will make or break his plans. While Sonny toadies up to Guy, he is also adamant about driving a preemptive wedge between his mother and the American.

It is difficult for a filmmaker to make a multi-thread, multi-character story compelling, though director John Madden and screenwriter Ol Parker make an earnest attempt. The operative word here is attempt, for very few of the stories are able to hold one's interest for very long. Every story proceeds according to a narrative blueprint and every conflict in the story is sorely stretched to give the illusion of dramatic arc. It becomes abundantly clear that many of the narrative threads could be resolved in minutes if the characters were simply allowed to pull their heads out of their asses. If Evelyn and Douglas simply asked one another, "Is this going to happen, or what?", we might be spared the tedium of watching two people play a coy game that carries little drama or romance. Given their ages, one might think they wouldn't want to waste precious time in a protracted state of doubt. This criticism might also apply to Guy and Sonny's mother, who play a similar, romantic cat and mouse game with few surprises.

But this is the The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, not an Alain Resnais drama, so the anticipation of character nuance is unreasonably unrealistic.

Even with little twists, which never register as shocks, it is very simple to chart every story and character. Will Sonny and Sunaina overcome premarital jealousy and strife? Will Sonny find a way to buy Kushel's hotel to secure funding for his chain? Will Norman and Carol survive their marital crisis? What will become of the other characters? Do you really need to ask?

The film has its charms: the scene where Madge and the lover she's long hoped to find make a connection as they drive through the city, ostensibly to meet one of her suitors, is one of the film's few, touching moments. I liked all the scenes with Bill Nighy and Judi Dench, in spite of being woefully underwritten. Muriel is often fun with her tart witticisms. And I like that Muriel keeps her condition a secret, which gives the film a touch of gloom to counteract its sweetness. And it isn't only Muriel who must contend with the hovering specter of death but all the denizens of the hotel, who face the formidable foe of time. The film needs a ticking clock's lurking menace because without it, The Exotic Marigold Hotel would be a treacly sweet Nirvana without end.

Which brings me to the inevitable question: will there be a Third Best? There will be if box office receipts have their say. Weekend business was very healthy. And in spite of the franchise's pretty blandness, don't we want to see Evelyn and Douglas marry? Is it worth another film?

I keep coming back because I find Smith, Nighy and Dench to be colossal talents who are always worth the admission price. If only they had more to work with.

My Old Lady

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Israel Horovitz/Starring: Maggie Smith, Kevin Kline and Kristin Scott Thomas

Theater scribe Israel Horovitz dresses up his play of the same name for the big screen while appointing some considerable talent to key roles.

Kevin Kline plays Mathias Gold, a newly-arrived New Yorker to Paris, who is in the city to claim an apartment his father has willed to him. Upon entering his inheritance, he finds an elderly lady named Mathilde Girard, a British ex-patriate; who has been occupying the residence for decades. To Mathias' horror, he learns the apartment is a viager; an odd, french real-estate term that refers to a life-annuity a buyer pays to the seller until the latter's death. Although one can occupy said home, he or she cannot claim ownership until the seller passes away (I think I got that right).

Mathias discovers his father (who he was estranged from in life and whom he despised), hasn't left him with clear ownership, which he finds to be a kind of posthumous jab from the grave.

Broke and without a reason to return to New York, Mathias relies on the future sale of the house--a modest-looking but very pricey piece of Parisian real-estate--to fully emancipate himself financially. Mathilde allows him to stay until he can get handle on his situation.

Learning Mathilde is ninety-years-old, he visits her doctor, hoping to ascertain the old woman's physical status. The doctor's distaste for his visit is eloquently written in a scowl. To Mathias' dismay, the doctor smugly informs him Mathilde is a robust ninety and could conceivably live beyond one-hundred. The doctor also informs him Mathilde is her english teacher, which subtly conveys her allegiance to the old woman.

While Mathias hatches a plan to sell the apartment to a shady real-estate creep, he gets to know Mathilde and she him. He divulges details of his pathetic life; failed marriages, unpublished books and a friendless middle-age, while Mathilde mentions a former marriage and having a husband (now deceased)--who loved to hunt.

While lying in bed one day, surrounded by Mathilde's former husband's hunting trophies, Mathias rises from the bed to visit the bathroom, only to encounter a middle-age woman, who turns out to be Mathilde's daughter Chloe (Kristin Scott Thomas). The two are immediate adversaries. Mathias is seen as an unlawful intruder by Chloe, while he sees the two women as an obstacle to estate liquidation.

While spying on Chloe and her lover in the street one day, he watches as a mortifying incident unfolds. As Chloe approaches her lover, she notices his wife and kids sitting in an outdoor cafe, watching her. While her lover coaxes her to leave, the wife glares, humiliating Chloe, which lays the groundwork for her imminent break-up with her lover. Mathias uses the incident as a means to a moral high-ground but also as a way to dispel the superciliousness Chloe feels toward him.

The conflict between Chloe and Mathias becomes incendiary; concealing sparks of romance as both learn their present lives were shaped by identical, tragic pasts involving his father.

Though I feel I've seen Paris more than any other city in movies this year, its visual charms never falter. It also seems to be a place where those seeking to repair their lives or relationships find illumination or closure, such as Le Weekend. The same can be said for Horovitz's film, where the City of Lights acts as a sort of agent of reconciliation and rapprochement.

I thought the characterization offered surprises. Mathias, Mathilde and Chloe show their nuanced colors in the form of emotional frailties and unsympathetic behaviour.

But I had problems with the film. While Smith and Thomas always nail their character's jumble of pain and anxiety, which reach like tentacles from the past, Kline has never convinced me he can manage drama effectively. He can be hammy and unnatural and his transitions from the antic to the solemn are never seamless.

Like most films adapted from stage plays, My Old Lady is hobbled by theatrical conventions of narrative: plot exposition followed by dark revelations, then crisis then neat resolution. Another problem with play adaptations is that they feel like theater rather than cinema. Some directors can erase the barrier but more often than not, such films tend to be un-cinematic. One might come away from Horovitz's film entertained and appreciative of--if not enchanted by--the performances. But a weary indifference might also trail after one on the way to one's vehicle. One might be surprised by the film's lack of resonance, given the setting, the cast and the director's writing credentials but one may not care that one is surprised, which is another problem.