Not so long ago, there was a period where a new Stephen Frears film would be cause for excitement. Perhaps best known nowadays for the Helen Mirren vehicle The Queen, he also had an impressive ability to leap across genres. There is not a lot in common between Dangerous Liaisons, High Fidelity, and Dirty Pretty Things, except the through line that Frears seems acutely aware of how economic conditions can affect his diverse roster of characters. But ever since the saccharine Philomena, Frears has lost a step – and his edge. That spiral toward disposable, pleasant-enough dramas continues in The Lost King. He reunites with his Philomena writing team, who include the actor/comedian Steve Coogan, and they pad out a thin story with flourishes that no actor, no matter how charming, can sell.
Sally Hawkins stars as Philippa, a middle-aged woman in Edinburgh with an unsatisfying personal and professional life. She just missed a promotion at her mediocre job to someone younger, while her home life has been awkward ever since a separation from her husband John (Coogan), who got an apartment but still comes to the house to cook. One evening she manages to coax her oldest son away from a video game console, and takes him to a production of Shakespeare’s Richard III. You may recall that in Shakespeare’s telling, Richard was a deranged humpback who murdered his family for political power. Someone makes a rude, offhand remark to Phillipa about the play, which makes her curious and spiteful: she wants to read up on Richard III just to prove this person wrong. This sends her down a rabbit hole of amateur historical research, and soon she is trying to argue with academics and bureaucrats that Richard’s literal remains are underneath a parking lot in Leicester.
If this were a fictional account, maybe Coogan and co-writer Jeff Pope could make Phillipa’s story more of an investigative procedural or a David vs. Goliath tale. Unfortunately, the particulars of Phillipa’s pursuits are not particularly cinematic. There is nothing innovative in her research, and her conclusion is merely a synthesis based on a few unconnected sources. Without a thrill of discovery, Coogan and Pope have no choice but to find tension through Phillipa’s human obstacles, which means there are many, many scenes where skeptics nearly laugh in her face. But she continues, unwavering in her certainty, until the biggest skeptics are trying to take credit for her discovery. It is a familiar tale, particularly for anyone who has worked in an office or bureaucracy, to the point where Frears’ gentle direction is almost shy about depicting her frustration.
There are two major gambits that pad out Phillipa’s fight, and neither has the intended effect. The first is the most obvious: Harry Lloyd, who appears as Richard in the stage production Philippa sees, starts appearing to her as the literal ghost of the departed king. He serves as a kind of implacable foil, guiding Phillipa and wordlessly commenting on her obstacles. I have not read the source material, although I assume it’s a fabrication because the particulars of research (i.e. poring over secondary sources) is not exciting. Phillipa’s imagination grows wilder as she gets closer to Richard’s remains, and yet all these have a stiff quality, when they should be wistful or even bizarre. Hawkins is a talented actor, charming enough to have audiences believe that a mute woman could fall in love with a sea monster, and while The Lost King should be less of a stretch, it is nowhere as convincing.
The second major gambit is the way the screenplay develops Phillipa as a character. They want her to be difficult and obstinate, the kind of person who gets results through persistence and sheer force of will. But that would require Coogan and Pope to deviate from a feel-good formula, and when push comes to shove, they would rather have a nice protagonist. Yes, Hawkins’ interpretation of Phillipa can be brittle, and there are scenes where she is not particularly demure. Despite all that, her overall aura is that she is a kind, earnest woman who unearths an idea she cannot shake. All the subplots, including Phillipa getting the credit she deserves or reconciling with John, are borne out of the idea that these are basically ordinary, warm people. The last thing the filmmakers want is to challenge their audience, or make them uncomfortable, so the characters follow their lead.
Phillipa’s achievement is undeniably an important one, not just for her personally, but for English history. Richard’s reputation was unfairly maligned by his political enemies, a myth Shakespeare helped perpetuate, until the two became synonymous. The Lost King presents a more accurate vision of Richard, one that suggests his innovations were more important than people realize. In this telling, however, all the revisionist history is less of a breakthrough than a historically significant example of someone saying, “I told you so.” Satisfying for Phillipa, sure, although her plight never becomes ours.
Photo courtesy of IFC Films
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