The Phone Call is a 2013 British short drama film. It was directed by Mat Kirkby and written by Kirkby and James Lucas. It won the Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film at the 87th Academy Awards.
The film stars Sally Hawkins as Heather, a crisis hotline counselor trying to dissuade Stanley (Jim Broadbent), an unseen distraught caller, from a suicide attempt following the death of his wife.[2]
She’s one of the most gifted actors of her generation but Sally Hawkins is a reluctant star. In a rare interview, she talks about self-criticism, losing herself in her imagination and making people laugh
By Alex Moshakis
Well, he has to say that.” The actor Sally Hawkins is talking to her publicist. We are on Zoom, the three of us, discussing Hawkins’s latest film, The Lost King, in which she plays Philippa Langley, the real-life amateur historian who, in 2012, discovered the remains of Richard III in a Leicester car park. I’ve mentioned I enjoyed the film, which happens to be the truth, but Hawkins won’t have it. When I protest, she becomes meaningfully bashful, lifts her fringe above her head, briefly tousles it into a clump, and allows it to spill back messily, hiding her eyes.
At 46, Hawkins has worked on film and television sets for more than two decades. She has been nominated for two Academy Awards, won a Golden Globe and appeared in productions that become newsworthy most frequently for her performances. James Corden, a close friend and longtime colleague of Hawkins, told me of her work, “You’ll never find anyone who says, ‘I just don’t get it.’” Guillermo del Toro, who directed Hawkins in The Shape of Water, said, “She’s one of the people I most revere in the world,” and describes her as “an extraordinarily good human being – the word empathy doesn’t begin to describe it.”
Hawkins and I were meant to meet in person. Then plans changed. (She suffers from lupus, an autoimmune condition that can make travel suddenly challenging and which she prefers, like most other personal matters, including the fact she is unmarried, not to discuss.) On Zoom, her comments begin as firm as concrete, but slowly dissolve into rubble, and at the end of most sentences she mutters a sweetly self-deprecating remark such as, “This is why I shouldn’t do interviews,” or “Gah, you must stop me.” Most of the time, there is no need to stop her. She is unfailingly, giddily polite, though I sense she agreed to our conversation reluctantly and that she would much rather be doing absolutely anything else.
Whenever he is in London, Del Toro invites Hawkins to dinner. She rarely, if ever, accepts. “She’s very private and she’s very shy, socially,” he told me. “I respect that. But perhaps she avoids it because she thinks I’ll spend the entire time telling her she’s a genius, which I would.”
Though she is widely considered to be one of the finest actors of her generation, Hawkins does not think of herself as a genius, nor even particularly good at her job. “You know, I worry about every film,” she says now. “I don’t want to let other people down. I feel that responsibility and I can become crippled with anxiety about it. I think, ‘Don’t muck it up!’”
I ask, “Do you ever muck it up?”
“I think I muck it up all the time,” she says. “Don’t you?”
“Not all the time,” I say.
“At the end of every job I’m like, ‘Right, fucked that up, but I’ll get it right next time.’”
Hawkins is as allergic to praise as she is to publicity. She rarely agrees to interviews and she prefers not to be photographed. Corden told me, “There are some actors who do the whole reluctant star thing, and you’re like, ‘But you just signed up to a multi-contract superhero movie.’ Sally is a reluctant star in the truest sense. I think it comes from her thinking, ‘What have I got to say?’”
When I bring this up with Hawkins, she says, “I don’t know. It’s so hard to talk about yourself objectively.” When I ask if she will dread reading what I write of her, as Corden had suggested she might, she says, “Awww, bless you,” and then, “Of course.” She generally considers taking part in interviews unnecessary. “I think the work should speak for itself,” she says. “And privacy is key. For all of us to have our own personal space, but especially as a small female. I value that.” She adds, “I just want to go back to being me at the end of the day. I don’t think my personal life is of any interest. I’m really incredibly dull. I never go out. I’m always flabbergasted when I’m recognised.”
“Still?” I ask.
‘I like to make people laugh’: Sally Hawkins. Photograph: Billy Kidd/The Observer
“Of course!” she says. “I’m like, ‘Arghhhh!’” She pantomimes sudden panic. “I wish I had a face that was my own. Just for myself. I’m shy. I get embarrassed.” In interviews like this one, Hawkins doesn’t know “what is expected of me”. She’s friends with other actors who are able to deliver pitch-perfect soundbites. “I don’t know what a soundbite is,” she says. “And I don’t want to give parts of myself away. I want to promote a film. I don’t want to promote myself.” She goes on, “I couldn’t do it if I was at the level of, say, a superstar. I wouldn’t know how to exist.” Continue reading →
The search for the truth about Richard III gives Hawkins another excellent showcase for her talents.
Philippa Longley (Sally Hawkins) is having a difficult time in her life. She’s been overlooked for an exciting position at her job, she suffers from chronic fatigue, and she and her ex-husband John (Steve Coogan) are trying to raise their children together as they deal with their separation. After she sees a particularly affecting performance of Richard III, Philippa becomes fascinated by the title character, and the questionable legacy of the man—believing his past to be more fiction than fact. In Richard III, Philippa sees a bit of herself, another misunderstood person who deserves defending. In order to find out the truth about Richard III and his past, Philippa decides to try and find his remains that have long been lost to rumor.
On this journey, Philippa is often visited by Richard III (Harry Lloyd), who waits outside her home, quietly waiting for her assistance in finding his remains. It’s a bit of magical realism injected into this story of a person who followed her beliefs, as opposed to the “truths” that people tried to push on her. Philippa’s quest is largely influenced by her belief that Richard III is buried in a car park, and while Philippa certainly does her research on this matter, it’s her faith that she’s right that seems to guide her journey in The Lost King.
Directed by Stephen Frears (Dangerous Liaisons, High Fidelity) and written by Coogan and Jeff Pope, The Lost King often feels like this trio’s last collaboration, Philomena, which also found a woman (often assisted by Coogan) attempting to find the truth out about a sordid past. Like Philomena, The Lost King is about an underdog trying to take on the establishment, and how that challenge can often feel like fighting against a brick wall.
Philippa finds herself meeting with a group called the Richard III Society, who similarly wants to find out the truth about the departed king, stating that Shakespeare’s play was simply more attractive than the truth. As The Lost King goes on, it seems as though the same could be said about The Lost King itself. This is a decent underdog story that often works thanks to reliable performances, but it’s hard to imagine that the real story isn’t far more interesting than the one that we’re being presented. It’s as if Coogan and Pope almost don’t feel confidence that the original story is interesting on its own, instead, inserting in ghost kings to add a little something to this story of a woman trying to find a buried king.
Like so many of Frears’ films, The Lost King works because of the compelling cast on hand. Hawkins is naturally great as Philippa, a woman who has been passed over far too many times, and doesn’t want the same fate to continue for Richard III. Hawkins brings a vulnerability to the role, and yet a power and determination that sees her through this quest. The Lost King works not because of Frears, Pope or Coogan, but because Hawkins can bring a great amount of compassion and care to this character who just want to make things right—even if it’s for a long-dead royal.
Coogan is also quite good here, and the dynamic between him and Hawkins is also a welcome addition, as John becomes wary of Philippa at first, then slowly becomes warily supporting in her journey. Coogan’s arc is lovely, and some of the finest moments in The Lost King rely on watching these two eventually get closer together in a way they haven’t been in years. If we take anything from The Lost King, it’s that Coogan and Hawkins should certainly play off each other in more films
Like Frears’ most recent films, Florence Foster Jenkins and Victoria & Abdul, The Lost King is slightly meandering for the first half, building to a rousing payoff in the final act for these characters. While the journey to find King Richard III’s bones might drag at times, the third act manages to make for an excellent dénouement—even though it largely focuses on an excavation crew digging holes in a parking lot. Say what you will about Frears’ films, he knows how to win over an audience in the final act.
But it’s in the excitement of the film’s final third where the weight of the rest of the film can be felt. As Philippa seemingly gets closer to her goal, there’s a rousing joy to the end of this journey, especially when she comes face-to-face with the men along the way that have held her back. The real power and heft of this narrative all feels pushed to the backend of the film, which in hindsight, makes the first two acts feel fairly unremarkable by comparison.
Like Frears’ most recent films, Florence Foster Jenkins and Victoria & Abdul, The Lost King is slightly meandering for the first half, building to a rousing payoff in the final act for these characters. While the journey to find King Richard III’s bones might drag at times, the third act manages to make for an excellent dénouement—even though it largely focuses on an excavation crew digging holes in a parking lot. Say what you will about Frears’ films, he knows how to win over an audience in the final act.
But it’s in the excitement of the film’s final third where the weight of the rest of the film can be felt. As Philippa seemingly gets closer to her goal, there’s a rousing joy to the end of this journey, especially when she comes face-to-face with the men along the way that have held her back. The real power and heft of this narrative all feels pushed to the backend of the film, which in hindsight, makes the first two acts feel fairly unremarkable by comparison.
Mark Kermode reviews Eternal Beauty. A woman (played by Sally Hawkins) whose life and mental health were thrown into chaos for 20 years after being left at the alter finds a new opportunity for some happiness when she meets fellow lost soul, Mike.