Lady (dir. Samuel Abrahams)

by Jack Martin | Aug 16, 2026

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 95 mins

UK Distributor: MetFilm Distribution

UK Release Date: 14 August 2026

WHO’S IN LADY?

Sian Clifford, Laurie Kynaston, Juliet Cowan, Olisa Odele

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Samuel Abrahams (director, writer), Miranda Campbell Bowling (writer), Stewart Le Marechal and Anna Mohr-Pietsch (producers), Jonny Woodley (composer), Korsshan Schlauer (cinematographer), Josh Mallalieu (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A narcissistic aristocrat (Clifford) hires a documentary crew to film her life…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON LADY?

What is it about the wealthy upper-class that makes them such easy comedic targets? Maybe it’s their vacuous and frightfully out-of-touch personalities, or possibly even the overly extravagant flaunting of their vast wealth, but whatever the primary reason there is almost no failure in pointing and laughing at those who have it undeniably better in life that most of us ever will.

We are encouraged to do so yet again in director and co-writer Samuel Abrahams’ Lady, an oddball comedy that certainly takes aim at how vain and self-centred members of the aristocracy can be, but it also goes a little further in exposing their deep underlying insecurities as well as their insatiable desire to be seen and admired by everyone around them. And by “further”, I mean to a place of surrealism that you genuinely wouldn’t expect a movie like this to tread, giving it a surprising magical-realist that both amplifies the central themes and underlines the unexpected tragedy of its main satire.

The film is shot and presented as a mockumentary, one that follows filmmaker Sam (Laurie Kynaston) as he and a handful of crew arrive at the secluded manor estate of Lady Isabella Ravenhyde (Sian Clifford), with the understanding that he has been assigned by Netflix to shoot a documentary about her and her artistic ambitions. Quickly, though, Sam is put off by his subject’s overwhelming narcissism, including her desire to enter and potentially win a local talent show for underprivileged children that she is meant to be hosting, and attempts to leave after learning that Isabella herself hired him for the documentary… only to stay and keep filming her after, to her shock as much as his, she starts becoming invisible. Yes, actual proper H. G. Wells-inspired invisibility, as in her body is becoming increasingly transparent with only her clothes providing the outline.

It’s a strange scenario, made stranger by not just Abrahams’ fly-on-the-wall approach which grounds a concept that is as far removed from reality as possible, but also by what exactly the whole thing represents. The obvious commentary would be that Lady Isabella’s sudden invisibility is symbolic of how empty her vanity has made her, with an ego as big as hers being struck down and exposed for the hollow shell that it is at the slightest hint of self-doubt. However, as the film goes along and we learn more about her and what she’s gone through, the transparency begins to reflect a much different person than we initially believed her to be, someone who is hiding a particularly tragic fragility behind her overconfidence which is seeping out in the most fantastical manner possible. The invisibility, one could therefore argue, is her true self undergoing a physical metamorphosis as she begins to grasp, through the unlikely outlet of Kynaston’s disgruntled filmmaker, a meaning beyond her privileged existence.

The film ends up becoming surprisingly sweet, with much of the film dedicated to this odd-couple pairing of Clifford’s Lady Isabella and Kynaston’s Sam as they both explore their artistic identities while their different yet somewhat similar egos clash via handily-captured B-roll footage. As we see their dysfunctional relationship grow, occasionally into intimate territory during one drug-fuelled trip together, there is a real spark of life that comes from the appreciation of having friends or even close company in one’s life, which Abrahams captures in a way that makes their bond feel appropriately real, even though you’re fully aware that everything you’re seeing is fictional. The filmmaker maintains a pleasant, crowd-pleasing tone that makes you root for these two people to overcome their parallel levels of insecurity and embrace the eccentricity within their reserved selves.

But while there is a much more heartfelt core to Lady, that doesn’t mean there isn’t any room left to still laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the rich lifestyle that the titular aristocrat lives. So much of that comes from Clifford’s exemplary comedic performance, as she imbues Lady Isabella with such a larger-than-life presence that the smallest inflictions in her uber-posh voice can raise a good chuckle. Clifford is definitely giving a hybrid of Alan Partridge and David Brent as her character always borders on overt self-awareness with constantly mugging to the camera, always striving to present herself as the grandest figure in the room, and at one point even taking charge over the film-within-a-film’s actual director during a supposedly candid moment. The actor is an absolute blast of hilarity as she embraces the vainglorious nature of her character to a degree where you’re more than comfortable laughing at how over-the-top and excessive she is as a person, but when the moment calls for it she also nails the much deeper tragedy lurking underneath that is now being exposed in the most outlandish way imaginable.

If there was anything going against the film, it’s that the mockumentary format doesn’t always work, for there are moments that could easily have just been captured as a straightforward movie without the need for it all to be so aesthetically improvised (it reaches a point where you’re wondering how the camera crew is capturing certain shots without being spotted by the actual subjects). But that is but a minor quibble about a film that is otherwise very good at not just being a smart and hilarious satire aimed at the hollowness of the upper-class, but as both a comedic and acting showcase for its own leading lady, it is also quite extravagant in its own right.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Lady mixes wealth-skewering satire with unexpectedly surreal elements into a surprisingly sweet mockumentary that is anchored by an exceptional lead comedic turn by Sian Clifford, as a character whose rampant narcissism and fragile ego makes for an experience that is both hilarious and tragic.