This is a good film which made me feel very uncomfortable indeed. I often like to read a few reviews of a film after I've seen it, especially if it has impacted me in some way. I find myself quite perplexed by the Telegraph reviewer who dubbed this film 'cosily enjoyable'. It's a good film, but cosy is not a word I'd choose in describing it.
I thought it would be both cosy and enjoyable. I saw the trailer when The Lady in the Van came out in 2015, thought it looked a delightful comedy romp, and made a mental note to see it. It's a dramatisation of the true story of a destitute old lady, Mrs Shepherd, who lived in a camper van in the driveway of playwright Alan Bennett's north London house for 15 years. When it popped up on iPlayer over Christmas I was pleased. But this story is a bit too close to the bone for me. We actually ended up watching it in two sessions as we found it so depressing. Unfortunately we were eating dinner during one particularly disgusting incident involving faeces in the driveway. As he cleans the muck off his shoes, the actor playing Alan Bennett declares with irritation: 'It's all about s**t, caring'.
Mrs Shepherd had lived in her van on Alan Bennett's street for some time, parked in the road, moving her van up and down the street every few weeks or months as she wished. Bennett's character explains that this is a street of very wealthy liberal types with middle class guilt, who tolerate Mrs Shepherd because having her around salves their consciences. Having a homeless person on their street makes them feel as if they are doing a good deed. When she moves too close to their own homes, of course, it's a slightly different story - she's not good for the property prices. Eventually, with the advent of residents-only parking restrictions, a permanent home for the van is needed, and Bennett very reluctantly offers his driveway.
Various people try to help Mrs Shepherd over the years. The neighbours take her Christmas presents and creme brûlée; she receives the gifts with ill grace, and never says thank you. A social worker hears that she needs a coat, and brings her three. "I only need one," Mrs Shepherd declares, "and I don't like green," as she flings the green coat in the gutter. Mrs Shepherd is a devout Roman Catholic, well known to the local Catholic congregation. When her van breaks down, a rich Catholic lady buys her a new one. Alan Bennett is frustrated by an act of charity which seems very misplaced to him. Surely the best way to help her is not to enable her vagrant lifestyle.
And this, to me, was the most interesting and uncomfortable aspect of the film. For me it raised all sorts of questions about what motivates us to try to help others. Is it for their good, or for ours? Who determines the manner in which they should be helped? Should Mrs Shepherd be helped on her terms, or on ours? She prefers living in her own filth to whatever the welfare state might be able to offer her. She is smelly and inconvenient. And this is the heart of what it means to care, according to Alan Bennett: dealing with mess.
I thought it would be both cosy and enjoyable. I saw the trailer when The Lady in the Van came out in 2015, thought it looked a delightful comedy romp, and made a mental note to see it. It's a dramatisation of the true story of a destitute old lady, Mrs Shepherd, who lived in a camper van in the driveway of playwright Alan Bennett's north London house for 15 years. When it popped up on iPlayer over Christmas I was pleased. But this story is a bit too close to the bone for me. We actually ended up watching it in two sessions as we found it so depressing. Unfortunately we were eating dinner during one particularly disgusting incident involving faeces in the driveway. As he cleans the muck off his shoes, the actor playing Alan Bennett declares with irritation: 'It's all about s**t, caring'.
Mrs Shepherd had lived in her van on Alan Bennett's street for some time, parked in the road, moving her van up and down the street every few weeks or months as she wished. Bennett's character explains that this is a street of very wealthy liberal types with middle class guilt, who tolerate Mrs Shepherd because having her around salves their consciences. Having a homeless person on their street makes them feel as if they are doing a good deed. When she moves too close to their own homes, of course, it's a slightly different story - she's not good for the property prices. Eventually, with the advent of residents-only parking restrictions, a permanent home for the van is needed, and Bennett very reluctantly offers his driveway.
Various people try to help Mrs Shepherd over the years. The neighbours take her Christmas presents and creme brûlée; she receives the gifts with ill grace, and never says thank you. A social worker hears that she needs a coat, and brings her three. "I only need one," Mrs Shepherd declares, "and I don't like green," as she flings the green coat in the gutter. Mrs Shepherd is a devout Roman Catholic, well known to the local Catholic congregation. When her van breaks down, a rich Catholic lady buys her a new one. Alan Bennett is frustrated by an act of charity which seems very misplaced to him. Surely the best way to help her is not to enable her vagrant lifestyle.
And this, to me, was the most interesting and uncomfortable aspect of the film. For me it raised all sorts of questions about what motivates us to try to help others. Is it for their good, or for ours? Who determines the manner in which they should be helped? Should Mrs Shepherd be helped on her terms, or on ours? She prefers living in her own filth to whatever the welfare state might be able to offer her. She is smelly and inconvenient. And this is the heart of what it means to care, according to Alan Bennett: dealing with mess.
Yes, it was uncomfortable and depressing and left me with a sadness and sense of unease.
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