![]() |
Judi Dench and Steve Coogan go on a road trip into the past in Philomena |
Director: Stephen Frears
Cast: Judi Dench (Philomena Lee), Steve Coogan (Martin
Sixsmith), Michelle Fairley (Sally Mitchell), Barbara Jefford (Sister
Hildegarde), Anna Maxwell Martin (Jane), Mare Winningham (Mare), Sophie Kennedy
Clarke (Young Philomena), Kate Fleetwood (Young Sister Hildegarde), Sean Mahon
(Michael Hess), Peter Hermann (Pete Olsen)
Describing Philomena
as a sort of odd-couple buddy road movie with a heart seems like exactly the
sort of trite journalistic spin that Coogan’s Martin Sixsmith spends most of
the film deriding. But it’s a pretty accurate label, in this heartfelt and
entertaining film that mixes looking at Irish church scandals, with both the
shallowness and promise of journalism and a heartfelt meditation on the virtues
of forgiveness.
Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan), a former government spin
doctor, dismissed from his position is struggling to find a new purpose for
himself in writing and journalism. After a chance meeting with waitress Jane
(Anna Maxwell Martin) at his editor’s New Year party, he is introduced to her
mother Philomena Lee (Judi Dench) an Irish woman whose son was given up for
adoption by the convent Philomena had been sent to over 50 years ago. She has
spent years trying to find him, but made no progress. At first Sixsmith is
dismissive of this human interest story, but slowly begins to invest in the
story, as he and Philomena travel to the US to try and find her lost son.
Philomena is a
film that doesn’t pull punches in its moral outrage at the decisions made by
convents in Ireland in the 1950s to separate ‘sinful’ mothers from their
children and find them new homes. The distress of the young Philomena is clear,
and the steps the church took to put barriers in the path of helping these
children and their parents reuniting (from burning records to bare-faced lies)
are as infuriating as their moral superiority is outrageous in its hypocritical
cruelty. But it’s not a film that wants to make a simple or political point.
If the film has a problem with religion, it’s with the
institutions that run it, not the faith itself. For all her ill-treatment,
Philomena’s faith has been unshaken by all that has happened to her, and she
like the film can separate the flaws of individuals from the principle of faith.
The film may take aim at the Catholic church for making people feel sex is
something dirty and shameful, but it won’t turn its guns on God himself. Near
the film’s conclusion, Philomena even rebukes Martin for his rage (on her
behalf) against the nuns who treated her wrongly, pointing out that she is the
victim not him and that how she chooses to respond to it is her business – and
if she chooses reconciliation and forgiveness that is her choice.
It’s a part of the films light and shade, very well drawn
out in Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope’s script that mixes serious reflections on
such matters as truth, faith and forgiveness with some good jokes and entertaining
banter. The film deviates considerably from the true story it was based on –
Philomena in real life never went to America – but in doing so it unlocks the
story as a filmic narrative. The odd mother-son type relationship that the distant
and cynical Sixsmith and the warm and engaging Philomena develop as they travel
America gives the film heart, not least as Philomena constantly surprises
Sixsmith with her worldliness and socially moderate views. The two characters
end up bonding in a way that is straight out of a Movie-101 but it stills very
real and touching.
A lot of that works so well because of the chemistry between
the two leads. Judi Dench is just about perfect as Philomena. Dench expertly
mixes the twinkle and charm of Philomena’s incessant Irish patter and capacity
for small-talk (and fascination with everything from Mills and Boon to hotel
toiletry) with a devastating emotional vulnerability and aching pain at the
loss of her child, which has clearly been part of her life for so long she has
learned to a certain degree to live with it. In one of her greatest screen
performances, Dench will have you laughing one minute then spin on a sixpence
with genuine emotional devastation or a capacity for forgiveness and
reconciliation that seems impossible after what she has been through. The film
builds real affection for both her old-world politeness charm and Irish
loquaciousness and her emotional strength of character.
She’s well matched with Coogan, who uses his deadpan
archness to excellent effect as Sixsmith. Although the film is called Philomena, it’s Sixsmith who represents
the audience, and it’s his expectation of being emotionally manipulated by the
story that we share at the start – and his growing investment in it that we
also share. Coogan keeps the details very small, but along with a skill at
delivering deadpan one-lines, he also has a considerable capacity for moral outrage
and genuineness (well hidden) that serves the film very well. Sixsmith starts
the story as self-pitying, supercilious and interested only in selling the
story – the fact he ends it so bound up in rage at the treatment of Philomena,
is a testament to Coogan’s skills for subtle character development.
Frears’ directs with a small-scale sharpness of camera and
lack of flash that has been at the foreground of so many of his films, letting
the focus lie on story and character. The road movie sequences that this film
highlights so much are little triumphs of small-scale character story-telling,
and while the jokes they feature – and even the emotional points they make –
are familiar they are delivered with such grace and feeling they nearly all
land.
Perhaps reflecting Coogan’s experience with the British
media, it’s Fleet Street that emerges as the most 2D here, with Michelle
Fairley playing a tabloid editor interested only in the story, delighting in
tragic twists as they will make for even better headlines. It’s the film’s only
real crudeness, but packaged within such a well-acted and richly entertaining
whole, that makes a strong case for forgiveness not vindication being the true
path to inner peace, it doesn’t seem to matter.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.