In theaters

THE QUEEN, directed by Stephen Frears, written by Peter Morgan, 107 minutes, rated PG-13.

On the surface, the British monarchy seems rather well-equipped to handle most situations. One would imagine that having all that robust history to use as a reference guide to sort through the unsortable must be helpful, as would the presumed sturdiness that comes from good breeding, extreme wealth, education and power.

In Stephen Frears’ speculative new movie “The Queen,” however, what the royals appear to lack is any sense of real connection to modern-day life. They’re out of touch.

The trouble, it seems, stems from the weight attached to that aforementioned history, wealth and power, with the perils of all that good breeding leaving the royal family in an occasional mess. After all, how do you react to real life when the only life you’ve ever known has been an illusion banked behind stone fortresses?

For the royals, real life smashed through those fortresses when Diana, princess of Wales, was killed in the streets of Paris in 1997 while being chased by the paparazzi. Crushed in a Mercedes with her lover, Dodi al-Fayed, at her side, she died a grisly death that sent the world first into shock, then into a kind of cataclysmic mourning.

It was an event that left Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in an unfortunate situation: Suddenly, her blue blood was all over her hands.

Protocol suggested the family grieve in private, which Elizabeth was more than happy to do given her tumultuous relationship with Diana. Still, given Diana’s enormous popularity, which trumped the likes of any living royal – including the Queen Mother (Sylvia Syms, marvelous) – was privacy possible when her subjects, the media and the world demanded to know if this most stoic of queens had a heart?

Initially, the idea that she would bow to such pressure was repellent to Elizabeth – it was beneath her, really – with dim Prince Philip (James Cromwell) hardly of help (“They’ll forget about all of this in 48 hours!”).

Of course, they didn’t. As the days ticked by and the flowers piled higher in front of Buckingham Palace and Balmoral Castle, Elizabeth reluctantly came to listen to the advice of the newly elected Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen), who deemed Diana the “People’s Princess” and thus unwittingly sealed the queen’s fate. She would indeed have to cave to pressure and make a public statement about Diana’s death.

Since going into the movie we know this, Frears and screenwriter Peter Morgan had the tricky job of getting us into the backrooms and bedrooms via the undercurrent of fiction. What they mount is a plausible story (at least until the mawkish ending) that weaves between drama and comedy as the Windsors and the Blairs find their footing within the fallout of one woman’s tragedy and a country in change.

The chief reason to see the film is for its wit, which can be beautifully cutting, and for its performances, which are especially good, particularly by Mirren, who is having an amazing year after her Emmy Award-winning performance in HBO’s “Elizabeth I.” Now, as Elizabeth II, what we see behind those grim, set lips hardened by time, privilege and the weight of expectation is something vaguely more human, though thankfully not stripped of mystery.

Grade: A-

On DVD

CARS, directed by John Lasseter, written by Dan Fogelman, Lasseter, Joe Ranft, Kiel Murray, Phil Lorin and Joregen Klubien, 113 minutes, rated G.

Pixar’s beautiful-looking yet boring computer-animated movie “Cars” is the weakest in its celebrated collaboration with Disney. You can’t win them all, and this time, the studios haven’t even come close.

At nearly two hours, this dull movie is sandbagged by a joyless, sputtering mid-section that goes nowhere. You enjoy the film for its polished animation and are grateful when it offers the occasional chuckle, but in spite of featuring no fewer than six screenwriters, the film fails to offer much in the way of wit, energy and entertainment, which is what audiences expect from Pixar.

The film follows Lightning McQueen (voice of Owen Wilson), a hot-rod showoff on his way to battling his foes–Strip Weathers (Richard Petty) and Chick Hicks (Michael Keaton), at the Piston Cup Championship in California, when he gets lost along the way and winds up in the forgotten town of Radiator Springs. There, on Route 66, the highway has long since passed the town by, leaving the good-natured residents nearly destitute because people wanted a more direct route to their destination, not to mention 10 minutes shaved off their drive time.

With McQueen stuck in Radiator Springs thanks to a traffic violation, he is sentenced to pave the road he destroyed before he can leave, which gives him just enough time to meet-cute with Sally Carrera (Bonnie Hunt), a come-hither Porsche, as well as a slew of other characters, the most notable of which are Paul Newman’s grumbling Doc Hudson, who has a secret past, and bucktoothed Mater (Larry the Cable Guy), who is so thick, he wouldn’t recognize his past if it hit him.

For a car, McQueen has a lot to learn about humanity in Radiator Springs – not to mention what’s important in life – and so the script manipulates him toward a manufactured personal awakening while also reaching deep into nostalgia for a lost time. Toward the end, the story gels, but in this long movie, it’s the getting there that might leave some asking, “Are we there yet?”

Grade: C

Visit www.weekinrewind.com, the archive of Bangor Daily News film critic Christopher Smith’s reviews, which appear Mondays in Discovering, Fridays in Happening, and Weekends in Television. He may be reached at Christopher@weekinrewind.com.