There were two things I read about The Iron Lady, one before and one after I saw the film the other week. The first was a comment from one of the producers that part of the interest was in the contrast between a powerful leader and a frail woman with dementia; and the other was Meryl Streep's comment at the Bafta awards that it was a chance to get an insight into the person behind the one we all thought we knew.
Both comments surprised me a bit, for different reasons. The most obvious is that I wasn't sure the film really did tell us anything about Lady Thatcher that we didn't already know. She comes across as determined and committed to politics, at some points to the detriment of her family life (although whether that is actually true I don't know), but otherwise there wasn't much new. Indeed, the flash-back approach tended to obscure some of the bigger issues that might have illuminated her character more: Europe is hardly mentioned (not easy to film, I guess), council house sales, a policy with tremendous consequences, doesn't figure at all. The gradual failure of cabinet government as Thatcher replaced stronger personalities with weaker ones is only fleetingly evident. All of these decisions tell us something about Thatcher, but as they don't feature in the film, we don't get to learn much about Thatcher's character through them.
The second point is a wider one about dementia. The difficulty with dementia is that it is something that is overwhelmingly associated with old age (hence the separate status given to 'pre-senile dementia'), so much so that in aspects it is almost synonymous with it. Loss of loved ones, such that one imagines conversations with them, intrusion of past memories, short-term memory loss, are more or less part of being old. And it doesn't really require a life of power to experience such things. So there isn't really a necessary contrast between an elderly person with dementia and a powerful politician in younger years - it's equally possible for someone to have led a powerless life and experience dementia in later years - although granted it might make the contrast greater.
Despite this, what is surprising is the extent to which the film functions as a study of old age. It opens with Lady Thatcher (perfectly capably) buying a paper and milk from a newsagent, and only later do we realise how far this has ruffled feathers back at her home: seemingly she is not to be let out on her own. And later in the film, she suffers the indignity of her daughter telling her that "she is not prime minister any more", a point of which she is surely already aware. The same theme recurs when her medical appointment is brought forward a week or so, and she has a conversation with the doctor that confirms the problem: people seem to be worried about her, but she can understand and articulate the doctor's discomfort. Towards the end of the film, she is shown washing up a cup, only for a flunky to say "I can do that for you, Lady Thatcher". In other words, this is as much about deliberate disempowerment as it is about loss of capability. And in that sense, the film is an extraordinary success; but it didn't need to be about a former prime minister, or specifically Lady Thatcher, to illustrate the point, since it doesn't require a life of power to realise how demeaning her treatment in old age is.
Whilst Meryl Streep has received many accolades for her performance, Jim Broadbent's performance as Denis Thatcher is equally haunting - he is almost a ghost of Shakespearian dimensions, at points funny, protecting, then terrifying. The film is reminiscent at this point of Truly Madly Deeply, which also explores the emotional dimensions of the return of a dead loved-one. Jamie is never completely acceptable or accepted, and indeed it is is some senses his ability to be annoying that prompts Nina to wish him gone, and he in turn builds on this capacity to drive Nina back into the world of the living. The only difference is the scene in which Jim Broadbent's ghost seems genuinely to frighten Lady Thatcher, but again it is a device to prompt her to pack up his things and put the past away. Lady Thatcher's subsequent regret as he departs is genuinely upsetting, as is Denis's departing shot that she was always better on her own (one of the few false moments in the film, since it comes over as a touch vindictive - the one time Dennis speaks for those for whom Thatcher remains a bogey-figure?).
The pressure on Lady Thatcher to remove her late husband's possessions brings one back to this point about treatment of the elderly. In some senses, it clearly does not matter if Lady Thatcher is imagining conversations with her deceased husband, any more than it matters if she retains his possessions. At her age, it is unlikely that 'moving on' is likely to bring any more happiness than if she nurtured his memory. It is almost more cruel to force Lady Thatcher to host a dinner party that clearly leaves her bewildered, even though conversations with smaller groups or individuals is something she can manage very well. The scene in which someone offers to clean a cup for her is also relevant here: isn't it better that she cleans her own cup, and replace anything that gets broken (if it does), than to take even that minor role from someone? It rather gives the impression that someone's sense of capability is less important than whether a cup gets broken.
In conclusion, this isn't a film I would describe as enjoyable or even comfortable at times. But it was compelling, dramatic, and frequently very interesting. A neighbour of mine in Brighton thought that the remains of the old West Pier - burnt to a shell in a fire around a decade ago - should be kept as a permanent reminder of how society treats the elderly. The Iron Lady brought that story back to me, along with many others about the struggles that society has with the problem of people growing old.
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