Stars: Judi Dench, Steve Coogan, Sophie Kennedy Clark, Mare Winningham, Peter Hermann
Director: Stephen Fears
Oscar History: 4 nominations (Best Picture, Actress-Judi Dench, Score, Adapted Screenplay)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars
My problem with Dench, and more so her films (you didn't think that opening paragraph didn't come with a "but" did you?) is that they are all of a very similar ilk. They're the sorts of films that your grandmother or your mom's retired friend goes on and on about. Between Dench and her partner in crime Maggie Smith, they frequently have the same jokes-something mildly saucy (oh good heavens, the old British woman just talked about sex!), with a lot of great feeling and realization that life only ends when you decide to stop living it to the fullest. With only a couple of exceptions (Notes on a Scandal, most recently), she doesn't seem at all challenged by the work that she's doing. I love that she gets consistent work, and there are far worse things than this style of film to be successful, but with an actor of this talent, I wish that directors would challenge her more, particularly since a certain set of people will line up for Dench.
The film itself is based on true events, so here's your spoiler alert even though real life doesn't require spoilers. Overall, I found the film very full of promise but rarely living up to its parts. The movie is about a woman who is trying to find the son who was taken from her when she was very young (by a nunnery where she was essentially an indentured servant). The film has its charms (namely Dench, who can hold back when needed and delivers all of her scenes with a level of excellence few actors would bring to such a stock role), but the script and directorial tones don't help the film at all.
There's scenes, for example, late in the film after we've discovered that her son has died of AIDS (and was gay), where we interview his sister (Winningham) and former partner (Hermann) which fall horribly flat. Herrmann's character, in particular, seems so intent on avoiding them and yet we get absolutely no reason why he avoided chatting with Philomena and the reporter covering their story. Does he also have AIDS? Is he in the closet? Is he an axe murderer? We get no clue here, and he gives up the second that Dench makes one defiant statement-why? Winningham's scenes are odd as well-she has absolutely no interest in getting to know her own mother or learning about her, which seems impossible without some sort of real context-curiosity is the most natural and prodding of human emotions, there's no way fifty years go by and you don't have questions.
The film also cannot quite decide if its a comedy (the words daft and cooky could be applied to Philomena) or a straight-up drama, and every time you think it's headed in one direction it shifts to another. I'm fine with shifts in tone, but this film cannot master either of them, much less both, and I was left very disappointed in what could have been a very interesting film to go with Dench's capabilities.
Those are my thoughts-how about yours? Do you wish someone would give us one last, great hurrah for Dench, or do you think this might be it? Do you think this has what it takes to land a Best Actress nod? And is it a comedy or a drama? Share in the comments!
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