As historical period pieces go, it may lack the perverse tension of “The Madness of King George” or the swashbuckling panache of Cate Blanchett’s “Elizabeth,” but for the most part,

“The Young Victoria” builds its own solid foundation on the credible, albeit abridged, cinematic romance of England’s longestreigning matriarch.

Queen Victoria has hardly found the same limelight that has graced Elizabeth, who’s been portrayed by actresses from Sarah Bernhardt to Bette Davis to Judi Dench. But 250 years after Elizabeth’s turbulent reign, England had refined a bit and, in 1837, the naive 18-year-old Victoria accepted the crown despite a childhood of seclusion and ridicule.

One might even look upon “The Young Victoria” as the ultimate teenage revenge fantasy—a young princess who discovered not only her independence but an entire kingdom at her disposal.

It’s this engaging playfulness that carries “The Young Victoria.” Emily Blunt nicely plays the princess who, against the advice of many and well aware of her own frailties, accepts the challenge of any one’s lifetime.

By the 19th century, Parliament ruled England. The queen was influential but symbolic; unlike Elizabeth, Victoria had no plagues to endure, no wars to wage. Her battles were personal, those of intrigue and deception— who of her trusted advisers wanted what from her, and why?

The film explores two of Victoria’s suitors, her Germanic cousin Prince Albert (Rupert Friend) and Lord Melbourne (a subdued Paul Bettany). History dictates that Albert won the queen’s heart—and also hints of a marriage built on trust and love and loyalty.

“The Young Victoria” confines itself to those early, uncertain years of Victoria’s reign. It’s very much a historical “true romance” tale—and I suppose extraordinary for no other reason. Lacking swordplay and violence, it’s a quiet, thoughtful piece of movie making. If you liked 1997’s “Mrs. Brown”—and I did —in which Judi Dench plays the matronly Victoria in later life, then I suspect you’ll also like “The Young Victoria.”

In fact, my biggest gripe is that the film seems rushed, truncated in those places that connoisseurs of historical theater might pause to savor. This one might have been better served, in fact, as a miniseries.

Visually, the film leans toward those intentionally (one would assume) underlit, darkly shadowed corners of court life, not the vivacious boldness of royalty. Instead, the movie’s light emanates from the new queen herself, the bubbly acceptance of destiny, ready or not.

Jane (Meryl Streep) and Jake (Alec Baldwin) are divorced. Jake is remarried—to a much younger woman—while Jane’s spent the last 10 years busily making a new life for herself. She’s hit middle age, comfortable and successful but isolated, watching her last child rush off to college. After a decade without Jake, she’s finally managed to accept and, for the most part, appreciate her life alone.

That’s why, perhaps, her guard is down, her instincts rusty. Jane and Jake attend their son’s college graduation in Manhattan, and an impromptu meeting at the hotel bar leads to a drunken—oh, how shall we put it?—reunion with her ex. The problem is that Jake’s suddenly infatuated again and decides to pursue Jane. Despite her best intentions, Jane allows the pursuit.

Thus begins yet another baby boomer rom-com (because Hollywood just loves our demographics). But if “It’s Compli cated” isn’t the best of the bunch, it’s pretty darn close.

Writer-director Nancy Meyers (“What Women Want,” “The Holiday”) knows exactly how to wield her cinematic, midlife-crisis angst. And, like most of Meyer’s sweeter-than-life flicks, angst comes with an antidote. As the perplexed Jane, Streep may be the film’s heart and soul, but Baldwin is the empathetic, sad puppy that you can’t help but take home, even when you know you’ll hate yourself in the morning.

Complicating things—as the title suggests—is new friend Adam (Steve Martin), recently divorced himself—a nice guy who seems genuine and sensitive. Adam and Jane barely have time to mesh, however, before Jake barrels back into her life.

There may be 20 million different divorce stories in babyboomer California (Jane resides in that magic Shangri-La to the north we call Santa Barbara), but director Meyers has managed to extract only the finest of farcical, quintessential moments. There are no villains, no bad guys, no culprits—just lost souls seeking respect and self-confidence. This one’s a very funny movie— poignantly real, gently compelling but, first and foremost, funny.

“It’s Complicated” also contains one of those rare “magical movie moments”—remember the restaurant scene in “When Harry Met Sally”?—that kind of scene. Fortunately, all those other complicated moments, before and after, pile up quite nicely as well.