Too much of this movie feels made specifically for the movie, which goes directly against its alleged realism, and leaves the audience confused about the point of it all.

Yes, Diana is the poor little rich girl, but the opulent settings, private jets, yachts, and chauffeured cars prove peculiar and distracting affectations.

Are the micro-biopics that don't even bother to provide overviews of their famed subjects' entire lives, but instead lean on the spectacle of celebrity impersonation, the new camp?

Closer in kind to a Hallmark movie than any biopic of substance, this torpid film gives ennui the royal treatment.