There are no fresh revelations in this feature-length documentary about Diana. What it does offers is a compressed view of her short life as the Princess of Wales, seen through archive footage and old interviews.
The effect is like a rush of fuzzy memories, given new shape by slick editing and the distance of time. It makes for compelling, if uncomfortable, viewing.
After opening with 25-year-old footage of paparazzi gathered outside The Ritz in Paris, director Ed Perkins rewinds, showing a teenage Diana making her way to her car as future ITN anchor Carol Barnes badgers her with questions about her rumoured engagement to the future king.
The grainy film, Barnes’plummy RP accent and Diana’s unguarded smiles make it seem like footage from a bygone age.
When we get to the 1981 royal wedding, the past really does seem like a foreign country. A newscaster relates how Diana’s family “vouched for her virginity” as crowds ecstatically celebrate their arranged marriage in Trafalgar Square.
Interviews with the awkward couple feel just as surreal. I’m no body language expert but it now seems glaringly obvious Charles’s heart wasn’t in it.
Then, as we follow the slow death of the marriage, Diana’s feelings become just as apparent. She’s natural and utterly charming with members of the public but clearly distressed by the attention of the paparazzi.
Perkins reminds us of a 1981 sermon from Robert Runcie, Archbishop of Canterbury, who describes the marriage "the stuff of which fairy tales are made".
Diana, as this footage reminds us, was a human being. Whether it's time for the nation to put such childish fantasies aside is the film's biggest unspoken question.
During her funeral, Perkins invites us to stare at two young boys as they grieve for their mother under the unblinking gaze of the world's media.
Were the press soley to blame for her death, as one furious member of the public shouts to a journalist? Or should those clamouring for seats in the circus shoulder some responsibility too?
The Princess is in UK cinemas now
