“All of life is a stage”, a sentiment that has become the unofficial motto of an entire industry, with theatre performers being drawn to the idea that life, in general, is a performance, a chance to play a character on an enormous stage, populated by myriad characters and a neverending stream of unexpected scenarios. Michael Cristofer has a relatively well-received history as a playwright and performer going back to his arrival on the scene in the early 1970s. His directorial endeavours (both on stage and in film) have painted a portrait of a wonderful artist who takes his craft very seriously, albeit not being celebrated as a stalwart of the industry very often, mostly due to the relative simplicity of his work. His most recent directorial outing is The Great Lillian Hall, a fascinating character-driven drama revolving around the titular character. This celebrated theatre performer has held court on Broadway for decades, becoming a legend in her field through her talents, which has allowed her to star in several major productions, becoming an icon of her industry. However, when she receives a shocking diagnosis that she learns will eventually bring an end to her acting career, her life begins to fall apart, leading her down a path of trying to make amends to the people who matter, alongside delivering one final great performance, both needing to be done before it is too late. A project that had an unusually long period of gestation, and which had a storied journey to the screen, The Great Lillian Hall is a very unique production. This simple but fascinating drama is as heartfelt as it is revealing. While there are some shortcomings (primarily related to the execution of the story, rather than the plot itself), we can mostly overlook these aspects and focus instead on the solidly-crafted, well-constructed story that may not be particularly daring, but has a solid and meaningful approach that is difficult to entirely dismiss.

The unfurnished, bare-boned nature of The Great Lillian Hall is one of its more exceptional qualities. This is a film in which the focus is less on the spectacle and more on telling a very simple story that has immense resonance. Formed like a combination of Ingmar Bergman and John Cassavetes (particularly Opening Night terms of the latter), the film prioritizes the journey into the mind of the titular character, a woman struggling with a complex battle with her inner demons, which gradually and methodically begin to erode her sanity as she comes to terms with a very harsh reality from which she would much rather retreat. The film is tackling some very challenging subjects, and while it may seem quite obvious and perhaps even cliched at times, there is still some value in the approach that Cristofer takes with this material – it seems like we frequently get these melodramatic films about older people struggling with degenerative diseases or growing mental disorders, and while The Great Lillian Hall does objectively play in a very similar key to these films, it has a unique perspective that is at least worth the time, particularly in how it forms its narrative around the story of a woman trying desperately to hold onto her sanity while it is still within reach, as told through her relationship with other characters. Themes of ageing (particularly in terms of being an older woman in an industry driven by men), friendship and family are secondary and help set a solid foundation on which the film can explore the different relationships the protagonist has with various people in her life. It’s a very rudimentary approach, but it doesn’t lose its lustre at any point, instead preferring to be a much more straightforward offering than a more experimental affair could have possibly yielded with the same concept.

Coming pre-packaged with the film is an exceptional sense of compassion, which is primarily drawn from the performances that populate the film. The Great Lillian Hall is a film that exists solely on the strength of its central performance – Cristofer is a good writer and director, but neither is the main attraction here and without a good performance guiding the film, it would have fallen apart almost immediately. Few pieces of information are more redundant to repeat than saying that Jessica Lange has talent – for nearly half a century, she has kept us enthralled and entertained, playing a range of characters that draw on her distinctive intensity and ability to portray these complex, haunted women. Many moments in The Great Lillian Hall feel like Lange is riffing off some of her most famous roles, albeit in a way that feels original and insightful, making it seem as if her performance here is both an interpretation of the director’s superb script and a bout of self-awareness from an actor who is rarely celebrated as much as she should. Accompanying Lange is a solid ensemble – Kathy Bates is a highlight as the protagonist’s long-suffering assistant and closest confidante, whereas Pierce Brosnan is as charismatic as ever, playing the mysterious but alluring love interest that helps the character on her journey towards self-realization and comfort at knowing her time is limited. Yet, everything ultimately still circles back to Lange, who is wonderful in the part and brings such incredible nuance to an otherwise potentially unwieldy script that could have been far too dense and didactic in the hands of any other director, especially one that wasn’t aware of the fact that this is primarily a character-based drama, and thus it should be the focus.

Yet, despite a strong concept and wonderful performances, there is something oddly uncanny about The Great Lillian Hall, which occurs in the execution of a very promising story. The plot itself is simple and doesn’t require extensive work, yet there are layers of unnecessary material thrown onto the film. presumably to pad it out and ensure that it reached the required threshold. This is where the film begins to show weakness since the story itself is strong, but the elements that exist on the periphery begin to steer our attention away from what matters and instead highlight aspects that could have been massively softened if not entirely removed from the film altogether. Much of this has to do with the tone, and as gifted as he may be, Cristofer seems to have a problem when it comes to keeping the emotional inventory of the film at a simpler level – from almost the first frame, The Great Lillian Hall is shrouded in this intensely melodramatic, unnecessarily dense sheen that does not contribute anything particularly valuable or insightful to the film and instead is just there as security for moments in which the narrative may have not offered a clear definition of what is happening on screen. Yet, there isn’t a moment in this film where such an inconsistent tone was required, and the heavy-handed emotional content could have been entirely elided, especially since they eventually become nothing more than hackneyed hysterics, existing throughout this film as a cushion for a narrative that was strong enough to stand on its own. A film like The Great Lillian Hall quite simply does not need to expend even a moment of effort explaining itself or what it represents, since it is both obvious and made very clear from the start. Yet, there are far too many moments when this film feels extremely uneven and overwrought, which is an immense disappointment considering how much promise there was throughout this film.

The Great Lillian Hall is a perfectly decent, well-crafted film that is as earnest as it is moving, which is all the result of a director who knows how to tell such a story, as well as drawing out strong work from his actors, who are the primary vessel through which all the emotions and complex ideas are ultimately carried. It’s not a particularly daring affair, and it’s more aligned with the taste of those who can appreciate these solidly-crafted, well-maintained character dramas that aim to be moving long before they attempt to reinvent the genre in any substantial way. Instead, it weaves a superb narrative about someone who slowly begins to lose her grip on reality, and who decides that she will do anything it takes to prevent the progression of a disease that will ultimately end both her career and livelihood, which ultimately proves to be reaffirming her relationship with the people she has taken for granted over the years, which leads to a tender, heartfelt story of family and friendship, as well as a very charming examination of the backstage antics of a Broadway production, which eventually becomes secondary to the main portions of the narrative, but still have a lot of value in how it creates a thorough and meaningful portrait of these characters and their varying relationships. Powerful and meaningful in equal measure, and genuinely quite profound in how it handles many of its more challenging ideas, The Great Lillian Hall is a lovely film, one that isn’t particularly revolutionary but proves the simple but elegant virtue of a story that is told with heart and dedication, and which knows exactly what it intends to be right from the start.