“PHILOMENA” My rating: B+ (Opening wide on Nov. 27)
98 minutes | MPAA Rating: PG-13
It may be a buddy/road movie, but “Philomena” is a buddy/road movie of a singularly high order.
For starters, it’s got Judi Dench in the title role, giving one of her best performances.
The excellence continues with the screenplay by co-star Steve Coogan (with Jeff Pope) that won the top writing award at the Venice Film Fest this year.
And it jells with the direction of Stephen Frears, who approaches potentially controversial and/or maudlin material with just the right deft touch.
Inspired by a non-fiction book by Martin Sixsmith, “Philomena” describes how Sixsmith (Coogan), a former BBC newsman fired from his high-profile government job, goes looking for a story with which to reignite his journalism career.
The perfect yarn falls into his lap when he’s hooked up with Philomena Lee (Dench) , a woman who 50 years earlier gave birth to an illegitimate son in one of Ireland’s notorious Magdalene laundries run by the Catholic Church.
Against her wishes, Philomena’s son was given up for adoption by the nuns. Now she wants to track him down.
“Philomena” pulls off an high-wire balancing act. On the one hand it’s a comedy of class differences. The rather snooty Sixsmith (nobody can match Coogan when it comes to playing aloof ass-hats) is intially bemused and a bit contemptuous of the working-class Philomena, a woman addicted to bad romance novels whose idea of a big night is sitting in a hotel room watching a Martin Lawrence/”Big Momma” movie.
Coogan and Dench clearly are having a ball playing such dissimilar traveling companions.
On another level, the film is a dead serious indictment of the whole Magdalene system, which ostensibly was established to shelter unwed girls through their pregnancies and provide them with employment as laundresses afterwards. In reality, these young women were economic prisoners who saw their children given — in exchange for a big donation — to wealthy couples.
Moreover, there was an unmistakeable element of punishment trickling through the whole enterprise . These young women had sinned and now must pay the price. (In flashbacks, the young Philomena is played by the excellent Sophie Kennedy Clark).
Peter Mullan’s 2002 film “The Magdalene Sisters” was an outraged indictment of the system. In contrast, “Philomena” takes a much less incendiary approach — though most audience members will be seething by the time it’s all over.
Sixsmith and Philomena’s journey first takes them to the convent/laundry where she spent her confinement. They’re told that the adoption records were destroyed years ago in a fire.
But Sixsmith, a savvy sleuth, realizes that many of the illegitimate children adopted back in the ’50s were taken by well-to-do Americans. He turns his attention across the pond — only to discover not only the identity of Philomena’s son, but that he — Sixsmith — met the man while covering the Reagan White House.
I won’t go into the details revealed by the investigation. Let’s just say that they are marked by humor and heartbreak, and that just when you think we’ve uncovered all we’re going to learn, a new piece of information pops up that forces an entire re-evaluation of the facts.
Director Frears — whose resume embraces films as varied as “Prick Up Your Ears,” “Dangerous Liaisons,” “The Grifters,” “High Fidelity” and “The Queen” — shows an old pro’s ability to balance comedy and drama without undermining either. This isn’t look-at-me moviemaking. Frears has never been much of an auteur. But he knows how to serve his material with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of impact.
Dench is nearly a quarter-century too old for the role — and it doesn’t matter one damn bit. She gives us a seemingly simple woman who, as the journey goes on, surprises us with her depth and compassion. She’ll have audiences both clutching their sides with laughter and fumbling for a hankie — and she makes it look ridiculously easy.
Coogan’s Sixsmith, meanwhile, is forced to come out of his own smug shell and experience life through the joys and sorrows of another person. You could say that on yet another level the film is about the myth of journalistic objectivity.
In summation: Lots of hearty laughs. Some sobs. And a couple of first-rate performances.
| Robert W. Butler
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