Lady: oddball mockumentary about a narcissistic aristocrat is strangely moving

Lady, much like the aristocrat at its centre, is an odd duck: erratic at first sight, but ultimately possessed of a tender heart and scrappy spirit. When Bafta-nominated filmmaker Samuel (Laurie Kynaston) arrives at the sprawling Ravenhyde Hall to shoot what he presumes is a fly-on-the-wall Netflix documentary about Lady Isabella Ravenhyde (Sian Clifford), his grainy footage and askew angles clash with the meticulously staged portrait she wants to present. The documentary, in danger of being scrapped several times over, becomes secondary to the transformative experience of making it.

Isabella is initially a tedious subject, keeping up a steady monologue, saying a lot without really saying anything at all, evading questions that might provide even remotely insightful answers. Out-of-touch and delusional, her attempts to project any image to the contrary are rendered pathetically transparent in real time, her facade demolished over a series of fairly predictable punchlines. Intent on stage-managing each scene, she even plots what the documentary’s “crescendo” should be, only to be humiliated moments later.

But if the narcissistic Isabella desires to be seen, Sam wants to be heard – he struggles to find his voice as an artist. Outwardly encouraging, he grows inwardly derisive of his subject, angling for more sensational material, exploiting her for the chance of a career boost. It’s a parasitic relationship, though who the bigger leech is remains to be seen. Sam’s voyeurism is sharply turned back on him as the crew delights in catching him at his most embarrassing.

But a flourish of magic realism humanises Isabella, transforming her from someone seeking the spotlight to someone desperate to protect herself from prying eyes and scrutinising remarks. The camera begins to feel intrusive; the affectations melt into something raw and real; volatility gives way to intimacy. Lady examines the shattering impact of loss and self-imposed isolation. Retreating inwards in the aftermath of trauma, the film points out, can leave you marooned. It can also make you self-centred.

Since what we’re seeing is essentially Sam’s documentary as it’s being filmed, Lady has the shapelessness of an unpolished, unedited narrative. The shifts from quirkiness to horror to tragedy aren’t always seamless, and some of the jokes go on for far too long. But by the end, the silliness of the earlier portions is reframed as meaningful and life-affirming. Isabella does find the big crescendo she was after, but, even more rewardingly, the experience of its ensuing catharsis.

► Lady is in UK cinemas 14 August.