Philomena

An out-of-work atheistic professional journalist teams up with a devout confident assertive mother to write his first human interest story in Stephen Frears's Philomena.

The two work well together.

I wouldn't be able not to say that (lol) because Steve Coogan and Jeff Pope's script has created two wonderful characters, one with elite qualifications, the other comfortable within the kitschy continuum, the kitschy elite and elitist kitsch notwithstanding, both successes in their respective domains insofar as they've groomed themselves well over the years, brought them together to conduct investigative research, and given them both enough humanity to be able to work as an effective team, both partners listening to one another and making related adjustments throughout which demonstrate facets of humble active listening, snide though it may occasionally be, their power relations not being strictly governed by a master/slave dichotomy, but rather a constructive allied argumentative breach, which playfully and dismissively gives and takes on both sides.

Martin Sixsmith's (Steve Coogan) intellectual capacities are higher than Philomena's (Judi Dench) and he has trouble refraining from expressing this fact, especially before 9 am (why do you have to pretend to be in a good mood before 11 am?), which is to be expected, but they're also high enough to recognize their own particular shortcomings, their exclusive ornate prejudices, which helps Martin learn to accept Philomena's difference, her loves, her passions.

Philomena doesn't shy away from defending her values and even though she's likely never studied advanced rhetoric nor frequently schmoozed in realms where it's condescendingly applied, she holds her own when Sixsmith criticizes her beliefs, breaking through his sound observations (with which I tend to agree) with cold hard forgiving faith.

How she could continue to believe after what certain religious authorities put her through is beyond me but she does and justifies her position coherently enough.

The metaphorical extract (the breach) distilled from their colourful exchanges is a fluid effervescent bourgeoisie, competent mediator of the clashes, comprehensive, cogent, chill.

First time I've briefly forgotten it was Judi Dench acting for awhile, her divergent performance creatively testifying to her dynamic multidimensional strengths.

Not that I've seen most of the films she's been in.