by Finnlay Dall

Year:  2024

Director:  Michael Cristofer

Rated:  M

Release:  5 June 2025

Distributor: Transmission Films

Running time: 110 minutes

Worth: $7.80
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth

Cast:
Jessica Lange, Kathy Bates, Pierce Brosnan, Lily Rabe

Intro:
... you may have enjoyed Lange’s performance, even the equally eclectic supporting cast, but your legs are numb, you’re exhausted, and you feel an extra hour was wasted on something that would have been far better handled as a short, campy affair.

The tragedy of the aging actress – from Gloria Swanson’s homicidal Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard (1950) to Bette Davis’ envious Margot Channing in All About Eve (1950); leading the life of a veteran in the dying art of Broadway theatre – is a regular fixture in Hollywood’s mythology. But a more modern problem has emerged. No longer are filmmakers and actors concerned with being forgotten by the industry. Instead, they find themselves worrying about forgetting the industry itself.

Director Michael Cristofer’s The Great Lillian Hall sees the titular Lillian (Jessica Lange) prepare for one of her finest performances. A titan of the theatre and a living legend amongst artists, she lives through her upcoming role, kissing the kitchen cupboard, chanting lines and treating strangers on the street as stand-ins for fellow actors. That may make her difficult to work with, but anyone would rip their left arm off to have THE Lillian Hall in one of their shows. At least that’s what her up and coming director (Jesse Williams) seems to believe.

However, when a severe bout of insomnia, multiple failed rehearsals and frequent hallucinations lead Lillian to become diagnosed with a rare and rapid form of dementia, she’ll have to fight for her sanity, fond memories, and, most importantly, her spot on stage.

Despite the heavy subject matter, one expects Lillian Hall to be a rather sardonic affair. With the likes of Lange, Kathy Bates and Lily Rabe all under one roof – signalling the reunion of American Horror Story’s finest thespians – and a script and characters heavily inspired – and in some cases ripped straight – from All About Eve, the film theoretically has all the makings of a drama that isn’t afraid to be serious and playful simultaneously. But writer, Elisabeth Seldes Annacone’s dialogue drips with neither venom nor wit, leaving many of the actors to fight for themselves.

Bates, despite her proven talents, feels forced to play Lange’s assistant with nothing for guidance but (All About Eve’s) Thelma Ritter’s original performance as Birdie, one of her earlier exchanges reading less like homage and more like an act of unadulterated plagiarism. With no scenes to chew on, the cast chew each other out, often trying to compete for ‘Most Melodramatic in a Scene’.

Everything is squeezed out of these once in a lifetime actors, but nothing good seems to have been selected, and at that point, who else can you blame but the director? Cristofer has plenty of experience behind the stage as a writer, and on screen as an actor himself, but seems incapable of understanding basic blocking. Harsh lighting, overly static shots in all the wrong angles and takes that wouldn’t make it to a blooper reel – countless missteps that a veteran filmmaker would never make. But it seems common for the veteran playwright. Between Ghostlight, this, and The Trial of the Chicago 7, it’s clear that even the most talented dramaturg in the world can’t bring the theatre to film unless they are willing to embrace the medium.

Lillian Hall is not all doom and gloom, as Jessica Lange’s physical acting is impeccable. Embodying a Lewy Body Dementia patient requires such specificity that, despite how horrifically sad it is to watch, it becomes strangely enthralling. A curled hand, a wipe of the mouth, constant muttering and sudden bursts of anger, all make Lange a wasted talent on an otherwise forgettable film – no matter how bittersweet her short-lived romance with Pierce Brosnan as the old boy next door might be.

When the curtains close on The Great Lillian Hall and her production of Chekov’s The Cherry Orchard, you may have enjoyed Lange’s performance, even the equally eclectic supporting cast, but your legs are numb, you’re exhausted, and you feel an extra hour was wasted on something that would have been far better handled as a short, campy affair. Great this film is not.