‘The Lost King’: One sleuth’s quest for the truth about Richard III

Are you one of those people who thinks King Richard III was unfairly maligned by history? Do you blame Shakespeare’s play for propagating Tudor propaganda?  

If so, this puts you squarely in the good graces of Philippa Langley, the real-life British heroine of “The Lost King.” She is the amateur sleuth whose dogged crusade to rehabilitate the reputation of the last of the Plantagenets led not only to a reassessment of Richard’s renown but also, in the film’s (so to speak) crowning moment, to the discovery in 2012 of his gravesite beneath a parking lot in Leicester, England.  

With this much thematic and historical richness going for it, “The Lost King,” directed by Stephen Frears and co-written by Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope, ought to be better than it is. Frears has made many marvelous movies, including “My Beautiful Laundrette,” “The Queen,” and “Philomena” (also co-written by Coogan and Pope), but “The Lost King” often seems distinctly underpowered. 

But it has one big thing in its favor: Sally Hawkins’ performance as Langley. She’s perfectly cast, which, as a general rule, does not always translate into a perfect performance. Not so here.

We first encounter Langley living a life of humdrum unhappiness. She is dealing with chronic fatigue syndrome, has a thankless job in marketing and advertising, and shares the care of her two young sons with her indulgent ex-husband, John (Coogan). After seeing a production of Shakespeare’s play, she promptly buys eight historical books on the king and becomes firmly convinced he was not remotely a villain. He did not usurp the throne or fatally dispatch his two nephews in the Tower of London. It’s not even clear if he had a hunchback.

The film connects Richard’s infirmity with Langley’s own physical challenges. She rages at the notion that a person’s outward aspect is a mirror of their inner soul. A twisted spine is not the same thing as a twisted personality.

This psychological correspondence between the king and his fiercest advocate sounds simplistic, but Hawkins never makes you doubt its verity. It’s to her great credit that Hawkins portrays Langley’s obsessiveness in ways that are not always flattering to the character. In so doing, she undercuts the facile sentimentalizing that could have sunk her portrayal. There’s a lovely, telling moment when Langley joins a local branch of the Richard III Society – fellow true believers in the king’s innocence. One of its many eccentric members remarks that she looks so “normal.” She gently but emphatically replies that no, she is not.

Given how complex Hawkins’ performance is, it’s an unnecessary conceit for the filmmakers to saddle Langley with periodic dreamlike visitations from Richard, played by the actor (Harry Lloyd) she saw on the stage. A handsome, mute figure, he shows up in her backyard, or on horseback, or sitting beside her on the train. The movie doesn’t need this filigree of mumbo-jumbo, not when Hawkins is already providing us with everything we need to understand Langley’s spiritual odyssey. It makes it seem as if the reason she connects with Richard is because she’s sweet on him.

There’s also a fair amount of material in the film, perhaps too much, about the battles Langley waged against the sexist, credit-hogging archaeological and academic establishment. These men come across almost as villainized as Richard was in Shakespeare’s play. And perhaps the filmmakers give Langley too much credit among historians for almost single-handedly salvaging Richard from ignominy. Josephine Tey’s great 1951 detective novel, “The Daughter of Time,” is the classic rescue job. 

But the film scores where it counts most. Even more so than Richard, Langley is the film’s true centerpiece. By righting historical wrongs, she wanted to give back to the king his own voice. What she really was searching for was her own voice. She found it.

Peter Rainer is the Monitor’s film critic. “The Lost King” is rated PG-13 for some strong language and brief suggestive references.