The Lost King

Disclosing up front that it’s based on a true story, The Lost King nevertheless seems like a persistent plea for validation.

Perhaps it’s reasonable to assume that the masses might be skeptical about a British woman’s real-life quest to excavate the rumored remains of King Richard III from beneath an urban parking lot.

However, this offbeat comedy from acclaimed filmmaker Stephen Frears (The Queen) struggles to balance its quirks with more resonant emotional grounding as it amplifies the quest for proof and empathy surrounding her outlandish claim.

Set in Scotland, the film follows Philippa Langley (Sally Hawkins), who fashions herself an amateur historian. While her chronic fatigue syndrome limits her ability to work, she’s an officer with the local chapter of the Richard III Society, dedicated to preserving the tarnished reputation of the notoriously hunchbacked 15th century monarch.

Philippa’s research suggests the king’s 500-year-old skeleton is buried beneath asphalt in Leicester, England. Her outspoken insistence is mostly met with indifference by authorities and academics, and even by her husband (Steve Coogan).

She becomes obsessed to the point of hallucinating about the king in the form of an actor (Harry Lloyd) who played him on stage. Yet her sleuthing and salesmanship gives her a sense of purpose as she tries to find backers for a potential archaeological find.

Is she right or is she crazy? Does it even matter? Maybe victory comes by not dismissing her ideas as pitiful, but rather admiring her determination in the face of widespread mockery.

In some ways, The Lost King feels like a spiritual sequel to Philomena (2013), which also was directed by Frears, co-written by and co-starred Coogan, and even features some thematic similarities.

This film keeps the mood light and playful while trying to incorporate a more serious exploration of Philippa’s psychological state, with mixed results. Hawkins brings scrappy charm and hard-earned sympathy to a character who could easily be dismissed as a nutjob with too much time on her hands.

However, the uneven screenplay — based on Langley’s book — awkwardly tries to blend elements of fantasy with an examination of a midlife crisis with a thriller about a conspiracy theory. In the latter case, it’s hardly a high-profile scandal by royal standards.

Positioning itself as an underdog crowd-pleaser, the film might appeal to aficionados of Shakespeare or British royal history. But it needs to dig deeper.

Rated PG-13, 108 minutes.