In 1987, Irish butler Bernard Lafferty arrived at the doorstep of tobacco heiress Doris Duke. Lafferty was a secret alcoholic who'd just come off another stint at rehab but six years later he had not only managed to remain employed, he had been granted control over Duke's billion-dollar fortune.

CAHIR O'DOHERTY reviews Bernard and Doris, the new film about Lafferty's life starring Susan Sarandon and Ralph Fiennes.

Filmed on a shoestring, which at times is a little apparent, the film chronicles the unusual relationship between Duke and Lafferty.

"It's an interesting, unorthodox love story," Sarandon told the press, and her co-star Fiennes agreed. "There's one scene where she says, 'What do you want, my money?' And Lafferty replies, 'I want to take care of you.' I think that's the truth. I think that's what he really wanted to do."

At a first glance, Lafferty's life reads like an Irish tragedy. Orphaned by the age of 17, he went to live with his aunt in Philadelphia. Then, in his early twenties he developed a serious drink problem, eventually drinking himself to death by the age of 51.

That's a tragic enough tale certainly, but in the intervening 34 years Lafferty had shown himself a high time, going on epic benders that could last for weeks, and traveling as far from his lonely birthplace in Creeslough, Co. Donegal as it's possible to get.

To his astonishment, when his employer Duke - one of the richest women in the world - died in 1993, she granted him control of her vast fortune, and left him $3 million to ease the shock. For a man from such humble origins, perhaps it's no surprise that it all went to his head. It was miraculous, it was like something out of a movie, in fact.

Before he could shout "I'm rich!" Lafferty bought himself a $2 million Bel Air mansion, which he decorated with enormous silver urns and framed glamour photographs of his old mistress and billionaire benefactor.

Never one to do things by halves, the bedroom was draped with wine red velvet and lit by the soft light of an antique Venetian chandelier. The headboard of his king size bed was carved from the door of an old Vanderbilt mansion.

The shy working class man from Donegal who earned his living as a butler had even acquired a butler of his own. In the end Lafferty died as he had lived, in completely over the top splendor.

In the last year of his remarkable life Lafferty stepped out nightly in his 50-carat diamonds (often wearing one of the colorful gowns of his former employer). Diamonds sparkled in his earring, in his bracelets and his watch.

His unrepentant flamboyancy offended his many foes, and in particular Duke's physician Harry Demopoulos who filed a lawsuit, but Lafferty cheerfully dismissed them all.

On one occasion - perhaps even to rub it in - he spent $1,500 just to have his hair dyed what he called Doris Duke blonde.

Considering how much wealth was put into his hands, it's no surprise that the attempts to undermine him began the moment the will was read. Duke had left behind a fortune estimated at $1 billion, and the stress of taking responsibility for it wore Lafferty out. It was all a long way from his lonely adolescence as an awkward young gay man in Creeslough.

Duke married twice, the first time in 1935 to James H. R. Cromwell. In bed on their wedding night, the film tells us, Cromwell asked her what his annual allowance would be. It was inevitable that in later years both Duke and Lafferty would bond over their lousy luck with men.

In the film Fiennes, the Academy Award-nominated English actor, masters a Donegal accent with impressive ease. Not only does he sound like he comes from the county, he sounds like he grew up in Lafferty's particular district.

It's an amazing achievement, and Fiennes gives a nicely understated performance in what in other hands might have been an over the top role. Through the actor's nuanced performance we come to see that what Lafferty was really looking for was love and a family, a lifelong quest that he shared with Duke.

Throughout her life the heiress was adept at spotting fortune hunters and dismissing them long before they could pounce, but Lafferty was different. She grew to trust him, and the new film is strongest in the scenes that depict their developing relationship and their strange co-dependency.

Early on in his employment Lafferty has a relapse, drinking entire crates of fine wine from Duke's cellars and disappearing for days on end. When Duke is told of his transgression she fires the informer, and Lafferty remains at the head of her staff. (Throughout the film Sarandon inhabits the role of the heiress as though she were born to it).

It's a measure of the bond that has grown between them that she takes the high road, and the film leaves us in no doubt about the strength of their friendship.

Although it was Duke's will that Lafferty take charge of her fortune, there was never a question that the Irishman who carried out his duties barefoot with a pierced ear and a ponytail would not find himself faced with massive legal challenges.

Lafferty didn't have to wait long. Chandi Hefner, a woman adopted, then disowned, by Duke, led the queue, followed by Demopoulos, a doctor once named as executor in a previous will. Even three former servants sought a piece of the action.

But Demopoulos' lawsuit resulted in Lafferty being discharged, and he died alone in his bed soon after.

Bernard and Doris wisely avoids getting mired in the accusations and counter accusations that cast a shadow over Lafferty's final years. Instead the film focuses on the unlikely but heartfelt friendship that springs up between two people from vastly different worlds.

Although it charts the course of the two principals' relationship, the film doesn't address the details of Lafferty's own demise, and it's certainly worth telling. Sally Blake, a Donegal woman and another former Duke employee whom he invited to California for a holiday with her then 77-year-old mother, discovered his body.

In the weeks before his death Lafferty treated them to the attractions of the area, including all day trips to Disneyland and Malibu - and he had them chauffeured there and back in his impressive white Rolls Royce or in his black Cadillac, with the 77-year-old Mrs. Blake senior placed in the front seat like visiting royalty.

Weighing almost 250 pounds, refusing to exercise and drinking heavily, at the time of his death the coroner's office in Los Angeles said at the time that no foul play was suspected. He had simply given in to a long life of excess.