David Farnor | On 24, Sep 2014

Director: Oliver Hirschbiegel
Cast: Naomi Watts, Naveen Andrews
Certificate: 12

Every now and then in life, a film comes along that is so terrible it’s fun to watch.

Diana, ostensibly telling the final moments of the Princess of Wales’ life, feels less like a biopic and more like a spoof of a biopic, a 21st-century Spitting Image satire in which Thunderbirds-style puppets deliver frustratingly wooden dialogue.

Naomi Watts gives it a good go in the lead role, donning a wig and make-up and even the voice – but she’s let down by the production team as she looks nothing like Diana. She looks like Naomi Watts in a wig. A long, teasing, opening shot follows her inside from behind, eventually turning to reveal her face. From that moment, the illusion is ruined.

The script is no better – in fact, it’s the source of the film’s problems, turning the tragic true story of Princess Di into Mills and Boon-style literature. Stephen Jeffreys’ screenplay, based on a book by Kate Snell, examines the affair Diana had with Dr Hasnat Khan – but the surgeon dismissed it as inaccurate as soon as the film was released.

Naveen Andrews follows Watts’ lead and delivers the material with intense sincerity, but their commendable straight faces and earnest emoting cannot stop the howlers from screaming off the page. “You don’t perform the operation,” he informs Diana as their courting begins. “The operation performs you.” Nobody bats an eyelid.

Oliver Hirschbiegel shoots it all with graceful aplomb and an austere manner, but the Downfall director seems lost at sea here, unable to generate any tension or excitement. He instead focuses on trying to replicate venues and occasions as believably as possible. Moments where we witness Diana campaigning to remove landmines, contacting the press or relaxing with Dodi Fayed on his yacht, look realistic enough, but it’s a colourful set populated by cardboard cut-outs rather than a drama with depth.

There are hints of something darker, or more substantial – “I’m very fond of foxes,” she quips to Dodi. “They’re like me, we’ve all escaped from the Windsors!” – but Jeffreys’ respectful tone is perhaps so preoccupied with worries of being anything else that the movie winds up frustratingly bland. Every now and then in life, a film comes along that is so terrible it’s fun to watch. Diana isn’t one of them.

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