Everyone has their own unique opinion on what an ideal life would be, but they usually entail a daily routine that is free of unnecessary stress or challenges, and one in which you can live in harmony with yourself and whoever you choose to spend your life with. For many, the concept of living in a remote cottage by the sea is extremely appealing, since it represents a kind of easygoing life that is increasingly less feasible in a society driven by a rapid pace with which very few of us are able to keep up. This is the starting point for Ladies in Lavender, in which Charles Dance (in his directorial debut – and to date the only instance where he helmed a film) adapts the story of the same title by William J. Locke, which follows Janet and Ursula, a pair of elderly spinsters living in a quaint cottage on the Cornish seaside, where they spend their days in pleasant solitude, with only their eccentric housekeeper to keep them company, as well as the occasional encounter with any resident from their small fishing village that seems to be mostly secluded from the outside world. However, when a young Polish violinist washes up near their home after being shipwrecked, the sisters find themselves discovering their purpose as they nurse the young man back to health – but when he begins to recover and indicates that he is not entirely interested in spending the rest of his life in these pastoral surroundings, the protagonists grow to feel even more isolated and lonely, since the burst of energy brought by their unexpected visitor reinvigorated them to see the world in a vastly different light. A gentle and charming little drama that is the perfect encapsulation of the kind of “comfort” cinema that many view as one-dimensional and cliched, Ladies in Lavender is an absolute delight, an upbeat and incredibly moving exploration of several resonant themes, carefully pieced together by someone who we never associate with direction, but who proves to be a very talented craftsman, especially in taking a story written over a century ago and making it feel so profoundly modern through small but significant changes to setting and structure.

While it may have been published in 1908, the themes at the heart of Locke’s story remain timeless and true, regardless of where and when it is read. The film adaptation keeps the same spirit, particularly in the underlying ideas that Dance is insistent on exploring in vivid detail. The narrative is moved slightly, now taking place in the 1930s, but for the most part, it retains that same sense of gentle enchantment that makes the original text so captivating. The ideas that are at the core of the story are those around sisterhood – the focus is on two spinsters who have resigned themselves to living their final years in a state of pleasant loneliness, where they are each other’s closest companion and where they strive for little more than a warm fire, a good book and an entertaining broadcast on their wireless radio. This is called into question with the arrival of the visitor they pledge to help, which causes their relationship to slightly shift after it becomes clear that they see their houseguest in very different ways. Sisterhood is a theme that is oddly underrepresented in literature, at least in terms of being the focus of these stories, which is where Ladies in Lavender stands out and becomes quite effective. The premise itself is simple enough to allow Dance the chance to look beyond the more obvious progression of the storyline, and instead redirect the focus to the unspoken elements that may be lost on the printed page, but remain integral in the development of these characters as they face these small but distinct challenges. The companionship between Ursula and Janet shifts as a result of this unexpected occurrence, and it evokes themes of desire, which is in itself a fascinating addition to this film since we don’t often find stories that explore how older women are still capable of feeling that sense of innocent yearning for romance and the realization that is never too late to leap to embrace their desires. It has a very distinct set of ideas that the director closely examines, forming a moving tribute to a generation of women whose stories were rarely told with such vigour.

While you can imagine just about any great older actor could have taken on either of the two central roles in this film, Dance was open in his intention to always cast Dame Judi Dench and Dame Maggie Smith as the eccentric sisters, stating that this film would not have been made without their involvement. They are the definition of acting royalty, and they both turn in tremendously heartfelt, complex performances that feel genuine and earnest in everything that they represent. We so rarely get to see two performers of such a calibre working across from each other – and as delighted as we may be to see them playing off one another, it is also clear that they relished in being able to collaborate yet again, considering they were close friends in real life and had a solid relationship on and off the screen, which makes their casting all the more compelling. As the epitome of this kind of stately but brilliant older actor who could turn in strong performances with very little effort, they were always at their peak, and their chemistry is undeniable, which is doubly impressive considering they have the difficult task of playing sisters and had to therefore create an authentic connection that makes it seem like they are bonded by blood, but also different enough to be separate individuals, as per the central conflict that drives the narrative. They’re both incredible, drawing our sympathy in different means and proving to be spellbinding from the first beautiful frame to the last haunting image. It’s a beautiful demonstration of their talents and proof that they were two of the finest performers to have ever worked in the medium. They’re joined by quite an eclectic cast of supporting players, such as Miriam Margoyles, who understandably holds her own against these towering legends (proving that she is worthy of being compared as amongst their heirs apparent), as well as an early performance from Daniel Brühl, who proves to be a charismatic presence without distracting from the two leads. It is thoroughly Dench and Smith’s film, but the rest of the ensemble does contribute enough to the proceedings to be worth mentioning as part of the film’s many strengths.

Ladies in Lavender walk a very narrow boundary between being charming and impossibly twee, and credit has to go to Dance, who avoids veering into being too overly sentimental. There is a tendency for literary adaptations to automatically be viewed as overly florid, dense affairs where restraint is not mandatory and the suspension of disbelief is recommended. Much like its source material, this film is a very quiet endeavour that is not interested in excessive explorations of the primary themes, focusing less on the spectacle of the past and instead looking at the more intimate moments in the lives of these characters. While it isn’t a particularly ambitious endeavour as far as the execution may go, the film still maintains quite a unique approach that elevates it beyond a merely amusing period drama, carrying a sense of authenticity and detail that speaks to Dance’s instincts as a storyteller and visual stylist. Much of this has to do with how Dance chooses to tell the story and the elements that he prioritizes over others, essentially indicating that Ladies in Lavender is a simple examination of life in the past, as seen through the eyes of two characters who have receded into their pleasant isolation, which is shattered through an unexpected event that gives them a sense of purpose that we previously missing. This narrative was fertile ground for a heavy-handed exploration of sisters who find themselves on opposing ends of a very simple debate, but rather than choosing to lean into the more overwrought cues, the director chooses to use it as an opportunity to look at life in the past. There is an abundance of strong emotions peppered throughout this film, but they never come across as inorganic or even slightly heavy-handed, since there is something much more compelling beneath the surface that quietly emerges as the film progresses. The simple, unfurnished design creates a sense of authenticity matched by the exceptional work being done by the two leads, and the film as a whole proves to be a very charming affair that does contain enough artistic integrity to maintain our attention.

It may be viewed as an inconsequential, vaguely over-sentimental treacle on the surface, but Ladies in Lavender is a much more compelling film than its reputation may suggest. It is a simple work that never aspires to be revolutionary or change the genre, but rather be a solidly-crafted addition to the canon of stories that explore the past in a manner that is poignant and poetic, while still leaving some room for more engaging elements. The blend of quiet melodrama and quirky humour helps set a solid foundation for this film, which is a captivating affair that draws us in from the very first moments and allows us to gradually explore the past alongside these characters. Anchored by mighty performances from Dench and Smith, who are delivering exceptional work, and driven by a sense of curiosity, the film is a wonderfully engaging journey into the past. Dance has surprisingly not directed another film since, which is unfortunate considering he shows a sincere control for the craft that is rare with actors-turned-directors but shows his sincere love for the material and the actors he enlists to bring it to life. It is more comforting than it is ambitious, but there are moments of extraordinary compassion scattered throughout this film, which is a tremendous affair and quite simply one of the most gentle, moving examinations of the human condition made at the time, and one that continues to be extremely effective, even if only as a charming little glimpse into a time in the past where life seemed so much easier.