Film Review | Philomena

Judi Dench shines in this tale of institutionalised injustice, but even with the help of an effortlessly charming turn by her co-star Steve Coogan, this Oscar-nominated drama coasts too comfortably along to be in any way memorable.

In search of lost children: Judi Dench and Steve Coogan in Stephen Frears’s Oscar-nominated drama
In search of lost children: Judi Dench and Steve Coogan in Stephen Frears’s Oscar-nominated drama

In a lot of ways, Dame Judi Dench is rapidly becoming a female response to Morgan Freeman. Think about it: like the sonorous American thespian, she is continuously typecast in roles that amplify her poise and general aura of hard-won wisdom, be she embodying the MI6 head-honcho M in the latter-day James Bond films or doomed literary luminaries in heady dramas like Iris.

Her Bond outings – like her baffling appearance in the Vin Diesel vehicle Chronicles of Riddick – are essentially Judi in ‘slumming’ mode, bringing her mumsy gravitas to films that are mostly about guns firing in whichever direction and trains being derailed before exploding.

But with the based-on-a-true-story Philomena, Dench is back on familiar and fertile dramatic ground. Taking on the titular role of an Irish woman who was forced to give up her baby for adoption, Dench joins fellow British TV and cinema fixture Steve Coogan in a film directed by Stephen Frears (The Queen, Mrs Henderson Presents). You couldn’t ask for a ‘safer’ cast and crew ensemble, and neither could you ask for a friendlier audience attention grabber. Dench and Coogan embody a kind of pleasant, occasionally spiky (but not too spiky) camaraderie that’s endemic to cinematic produce emerging from the UK, and following The Queen – but also informed by his back catalogue of serviceably inoffensive comedies and dramas – Frears has secured his reputation as the main facilitator for the kind of box office and award-season friendly films which tend to be watched by many but enjoyed by audiences of a ‘certain age’ most of all.

The fact that the source material itself – a journalistic expose of Philomena and her story by then-disgraced BBC journalist Martin Sixsmith (here played by Coogan, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Jeff Pope) – already sets out to tug at the heartstrings must have made Frears’s job all the more easy.

It’s the early noughties, and Martin – a journalist by trade – has been sacked from his job as Labour government adviser owing to a minor political scandal he found himself at the centre of. Half-heartedly setting out to write a book on “Russian history”, Martin is keen to re-establish his journalistic career. When a young woman approaches him at a party with a potentially interesting “human story” – a journalistic genre he disdains – Martin is sceptical, but changes his mind soon enough when he realises that his options at that point are quite narrow.

It turns out that the young woman, Jane (Anna Maxwell Martin) is the daughter of our Philomena, a kindly old Irish lady from a humble background, who happens to have been keeping a shocking secret for decades.

In 1951, Philomena had a sexual encounter with a young man at a fair, which resulted in a pregnancy which, in turn, led her parents to send her to a convent for her ‘sin’. Along with other girls who suffered the same fate, Philomena is only allowed to see her son, Anthony, sporadically. Her worst fears come true when the child is taken in by a wealthy American family without her permission – a common fate for the girls at the convent.

Smothered by institutionalised guilt, Philomena has remained quiet about her story until now. And Martin, initially ready to dismiss the story as nothing but a melodramatic bit of tabloid fodder, gradually starts to warm to Philomena’s story… while at the same time becoming angrier and angrier about the injustices she suffered.

The film’s title is certainly hard earned: this is Philomena’s film through and through, and Dench never misses a beat in creating an effortlessly charming personality. Philomena is both vulnerable and rock-steady; she is hardly urbane but also preternaturally perceptive. We hiss at Martin’s early characterisation of her as the product of a lifetime consumption of “Reader’s Digest and the Daily Mail”, but we chuckle at it too. And therein lies the problem. The film never quite resists the temptation to treat Philomena as something of a quaint oddity, revelling in her blinkered cultural experience while simultaneously championing her cause.

Luckily, the central duo foster an easy-going camaraderie that’s difficult not to enjoy, with Coogan reining in his outré comedy chops – displayed to full effect when he takes on his big and small screen alter ego, Alan Partridge – to effectively chart his character’s transition from down-and-out cynic to a hopeful sidekick for Philomena’s cause.

It’s hardly a challenging arrangement of storytelling elements, though, and perhaps it’s just as well that the film never quite bothers to leave a Hollywood model. Coasting on the natural charm of its leads, the story moves along predictable lines at every turn.

Based on a true story it may be, but the fact that it cleaves uncomfortably close to formula is hard to contest.

Philomena will be showing at St James Cavalier, Valletta tonight and April 19 at 20:45.