Yes, a Film About a Search for a Dead King’s Body Is, in Fact, Engrossing
That ‘The Lost King’ is more than it would appear on paper is thanks mainly to the work of its celebrated lead actress, Sally Hawkins, and to its distinguished director, Stephen Frears.
The search for the body of a long dead king does not portend a riveting movie, and yet “The Lost King,” in theaters this Friday, proves engrossing largely due to the talents of its lead actress and the instincts of its seasoned director.
A two-time Academy Award nominee, Sally Hawkins, plays Philippa Langley, a working mother with chronic fatigue syndrome who finds purpose in her life by looking for Richard III of England’s burial site. Ms. Hawkins draws on her halting, slightly disheveled, endearingly fragile manner to embody Philippa as an appealing underdog, someone the viewer actively roots for in her quixotic search.
Director Stephen Frears, now an octogenarian with classic films like “Dangerous Liaisons,” “The Queen,” and “My Beautiful Laundrette” to his name, assembles a cracking group of craftsmen and women who turn the movie’s plot into an ironic Hitchcockian thriller, instead of merely the quirky story of a saleswoman looking for the bones of a dead king. Cinematographer Zac Nicholson, editor Pia Di Ciaula, and composer Alexandre Desplat all conspire to make “The Lost King” much more entertaining than it seemed on paper.
Indeed, the script by Steve Coogan, who also plays Philippa’s ex-husband, and Jeff Pope misses opportunities to give the proceedings the same zip and zing as do the camerawork, editing, and music, especially when Philippa starts interacting with the ghost of Richard III (Harry Lloyd). The dramaturgical device of having her speak to Richard III fizzes with potential clever ideas that the filmmakers unfortunately never truly consider: how the past can taunt contemporary views, say, and how historical fiction plays with our perceptions of long-ago events and figures.
The later point is mildly addressed when the character attends a local production of Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” and it is this show’s lead actor that she “sees” when she engages with King Richard throughout the movie. Yet the comic and rhetorical possibilities of having a medieval king appear in the 21st century and a Shakespearean actor portray the apparition of the dead king is left pretty much unexplored.
“The Lost King” largely contents itself, and the audience, with its pacy telling of how Philippa managed to identify and convince a bevy of skeptics of the location of Richard’s burial. Based on a true story, the film introduces us to “Ricardians” — present-day fans of the king who view him as unfairly reviled and encourage Philippa in her search — as well as smug archeologists, historians, and academic personnel. A few of the real-life people depicted have taken offense to their unflattering portrayals, but the filmmakers have defended themselves by stating that the movie is from Philippa’s perspective.
Regardless of certain scenes’ exact veracity, such as one in which she has a very public argument with a University of Leicester deputy, most of the film’s depictions of how an amateur historian was perceived by members of academia, and how a woman often has to tamp down her gut feelings while men can swear by them, ring true.
Arguably, the movie’s best scene comes not when the Richard III’s body is found (this is no spoiler, since it was widely reported on 10 years ago), but when Philippa, along with archaeologists Richard Buckley (Mark Addy) and Mathew Morris (Alasdair Hankinson), superimposes an old map of the city of Leicester over a modern one. With just a darkened room, an overhead projector, and a screen, the filmmakers create an atmosphere of tingly anticipation.
As they adjust the positioning of the old map to align with similar monuments and streets on the newer one, they come to realize the former king might be buried under a parking lot, exactly where she had a hunch he might be. It’s a testament to Philippa’s informed intuition and the spatial accuracy of old maps, despite doubts lobbed at both.
“Don’t let the bastards grind you down,” Philippa’s ex-husband says to her at one point in the movie, and the phrase matches the real-life Ms. Langley’s tenacity when faced with setbacks, uncertainty, and even derision. We could all use the slogan’s irreverent spirit sometimes, and mirrored in Mr. Frears’s sprightly style, it makes for an apt approximation of the movie’s flippant yet potent charm.
