For those of us mourning the end of our semi-regular Maggie-Smith fix, what with Downton Abbey now sleeping with the fishes so to speak, there’s an almost two-hour-long treat to look forward to in the form of Nicholas Hytner’s latest, The Lady in the Van. While the role of the titular “lady” itself might seem a long way off from that of the Dowager Countess, it’s still played with the same relish by the actress, a well-deserved and good-sized vehicle for her talents. That isn’t to say, of course,that this “mostly true” feature, based on the real-life experiences of British playwright Alan Bennett, is entirely free of snags—it’s just that any nits we might think to pick simply pale in the face of Smith’s delightfully controlled and captivating performance.

The story is set in 1970, beginning with Bennett (played by Alex Jennings) buying a house in Gloucester Crescent, a lovely, leafy middle-class neighbourhood in London’s Camden Town. In the process of settling into his new digs, he soon makes the acquaintance of one of the area’s sort-of fixtures, the ageing and homeless and very mysterious Mrs Shepherd (Smith)—if that is indeed her real name—who lives in a battered old van, bursting at the seams with all manner of trash and knickknacks, which she parks at varying spots on the streets depending on her whims. Bennett observes that while most of his neighbours, whom he describes as the sort of folks who yearn to appear progressive but struggle when their “liberal outlook” is actually put to the test, certainly wouldn’t invite her in for a cup of tea—besides being something of an assault on the olfactory senses, Mrs Shepherd is also an extremely unpleasant person in general, unused to showing any civility or gratitude—they still tolerate her, “their consciences absolved by her presence”.

Much like them, Bennett too finds that the lady inspires in him a conflicting mix of repulsion and pity—“one seldom was able to do her a good turn without some thoughts of strangulation”—but the writer in him can’t help but have his curiosities piqued by her, an interest she appears to sense. And it’s not long before he has a chance to really get up close and personal with her; circumstances suddenly conspire (with the aid of a little strategic tweaking on Mrs Shepherd’s part, and in part because of Bennett’s guilt about being inattentive to his own elderly mother) to compel him to invite her to park that telltale vehicle in his driveway. Temporarily, of course.

Little does he realise that, 15 years later, she’ll still be there.

There’s no question that Smith is the heart and soul of this operation; it is her tremendous presence that almost wholly buoys The Lady in the Van. Interestingly, the film also represents a happy reunion of sorts—in 1999, Smith had starred in a staging of the same story by Bennett, also directed by Hytner. Needless to say, she’s very, very good here, expertly staving off the potential for caricature inherent in the character, and serving up a complex, confounding and very entertaining portrayal. The actress is, after all, an old hand at this sort of thing—her most memorable roles, at least in the last decade or so, have been the ones where she’s played imperious, arrogant, but ultimately likeable cranks, putting those heavy-lidded eyes, pursed lips and distinctive voice to scathing good use. Some might perhaps be inclined to contend that she’s being typecast in a way, but given the authenticity and sheer watchability that she brings to each of her performances, I see no reason to complain. And she has a very capable co-star in the form of Jennings, who manages the none-too-easy task of depicting Bennett as straddling the line between self-interested and sympathetic, the perfect Straight Man (in a strictly movie trope sense, that is) for Smith’s oddball to play against.

The Lady in the Van is thankfully not prone to much overt preaching. Sure, it does talk of the loneliness of old age and the marginalisation of the mentally ill, but avoids mawkishness for the most part. Hytner demonstrates a real ease with Bennett’s material—no real shock considering the director had earlier helmed other film adaptations of the playwright’s works, namely The Madness of King George and The History Boys. While the broad story arc here might not have too many surprises as such, there’s enough unpredictability packed in between the planks, particularly the dynamics between characters, to keep our interest from flagging.

One of the more obvious “themes” within the film would probably be the conflict for the writer between the desire to alleviate pain and suffering on one hand, and, on the other, exploit tragedy for the sake of creative output—art and life locked in a duel. That conflict is literally represented on screenvia two Bennetts: “The writer is double. There is the one who does the writing. And there is the one who does the living.” These versions argue constantly with each other, discussing dilemmas re: the two women in Bennett’s life, among others. But while a seemingly clever conceit in theory, it soon starts to wear thin, making you wish they’d looked for a more subtle way of communicating the same. There are also a couple of scenes that feel rather inconsistent with the overall tone of the production, namely the stagey flashbacks designed to tell Mrs Shepherd’s story and a very belated dip into magic realism.

Those few gripes aside, The Lady in the Van is one of the more enjoyable films I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in recent months, not so much owing to any particular strength of the narrative but because of the sort of talent we have here to keep us company. It’s a quaint little feature, characterised by that distinctive, understated, hard-to-place-a-finger-on mould of humour that the Brits have always done so well. And Maggie Smith is just plain incredible.