The Lost King is a comedy-drama based on the 2012 discovery of the remains of King Richard III beneath a Leicester car park. It’s a terrific story, an unforgettable story, but a fairly forgettable film. It’s directed by Stephen Frears, stars Sally Hawkins (as Philippa Langley, the amateur enthusiast who was proved right despite being sneered at by archaeology experts), and yet it’s somehow underpowered.
There’s King Richard, in his cloak and crown, sitting at her kitchen table with his really bad hair
True, it offers one of my favourite lines of the year – ‘Boys… Mum’s found Richard III!’ – yet it never quite springs into life. Still, it is one of those reliable British films that offers a certain amount of comfort and warmth, and faced as we are with our own winter of discontent – have you had the heating on yet?; I daren’t – perhaps we should focus on that.
The film has been written by Jeff Pope and Steve Coogan, which means that, together with Frears, it’s the same team that made Philomena. Yet this isn’t as witty or emotional or convincing.
Langley, when we first meet her, lives in Edinburgh, has two school-age sons, an estranged husband (played by Coogan) and a job in an office where she has been constantly overlooked for promotion. She suffers from chronic fatigue syndrome yet mostly appears indefatigable, which is sometimes hard to marry up. Her interest in King Richard is provoked by a local production of the Shakespeare play, after which she becomes obsessed with him, although I never fully understood why, which has to be a narrative weakness. But she can’t get him out of her head. It’s like an ear worm, yet visual.
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