Spencer

Spencer, Pablo Larraín’s latest fantasia on a famous figure, is far more middling Neruda than soaring Jackie — with the notable exceptions of assured cinematography from Claire Mathon (Portrait of a Lady on Fire) and another haunting score by Johnny Greenwood, the combination of which nearly hold the film together.

The director’s frustrating vision of Princess Diana finds a miscast Kristen Stewart merely playing dress-up, resembling the beloved royal from behind yet distractingly the only non-Brit in the main cast, parroting Emma Watson’s accent to the extent that it just makes one wish for the real deal.

And while the three-day Christmas weekend parameter is preferable to the usual cradle-to-grave biopic cliché, the limited confines in which screenwriter Steven Knight places this Diana discourage viewer investment in our heroine at nearly every turn.

The version of her in Spencer is prickly with practically everyone at the Queen's Sandringham Estate, except her children, trusted ladies’ maid Maggie (a woefully underused Sally Hawkins), and lead chef Darren (Sean Harris, who somehow squeezes a compelling performance out of this paltry material).

Knight’s script hits home the point of royal life being oppressive early and often, yet is coy about why the family views Diana as a pariah— besides lead butler Maj. Gregory (Timothy Spall, reduced to a one-note scowl) ambiguously commenting about her actions attracting paparazzi.

Assuming a ton of extra-textual information regarding Diana’s marriage to Prince Charles (Jack Farthing, Poldark), Spencer hints that he’s likely having an affair, but otherwise figures viewers are experts on British tabloid history of the 1990s.

In a poor attempt to compensate for this lack of details, Knight and Larraín resort to insultingly obvious metaphors for Diana: Anne Boleyn, pheasants (and how they’re bred to be shot), and the concept of people as currency (who also have their faces on currency itself!!). If those comparisons don’t make your eyes rolls out of your concussed head, don’t worry — the filmmakers force Diana to contend with more broken pearl necklaces than a Batman movie.

As such, Knight retains his grip on the title of World’s Most Inconsistent Screenwriter after following up the laughably bad yet bizarrely entertaining Serenity with the smart pandemic dramedy Locked Down, and now this haphazard “tribute.”

Grade: C-minus. Rated R. Now playing at the Fine Arts Theatre and Regal Biltmore Grande

(Photo: Pablo Larrain/Neon)