Searching for her son, Philomena, a middle aged Irish woman, who struggles against finding her son that has been taken from her since birth and put to adoption in New York, she receives help from a smart journalist.
Even as Philomena embraces the expected feel-good dynamics, it avoids taking the usual path and doesn't paint all of the "evil" nuns with the same brush.
Dench and Cooper could do this stuff in their sleep and keep us entertained, which they do, but it's the nuanced twists and turns in both the characters and the story that elevate the picture beyond the familiar.
So preoccupied with score-settling, it is frankly rather embarrassing, like that obnoxious relative at Thanksgiving dinner who insists on revisiting each and every perceived slight.
Director Steven Frears deserves special mention. A lesser filmmaker could so easily have turned this project into mushy, sentimental junk. The tear-jerking moments here are heartfelt and real. It's the kind of filmmaking we see too little of today.
Like Coogan's reporter, you'll want to wrap your arms around Judi Dench's Philomena and take her home. You can't, of course - but Philomena will follow you there anyway.
The movie is a bit of a puzzle coming from atheist co-writer Steve Coogan and the script grapples with these big questions of religion, class, and justice in a way that's far beyond the typical teary human-interest story.
What at first seems formulaic comedy gains a deeper resonance as we see how they represent two responses to cruelty and injustice -- first outrage, and with time, eventually, forgiveness.