The King’s Speech (2010)
The King’s Speech (BRIT) Directed by Tom Hooper Written by David Seidler Starring Colin Firth; Geoffrey Rush; Helena Bonham Carter; Derek Jacobi; Timothy Spall; Michael Gambon; Guy Pearce; Claire Bloom; Eve Best; Roger Parrott; Jennifer Ehle
Fifty year old Colin Firth is most often seen playing some version of the very British, handsome yet self-effacing romantic leading man on screen persona developed over his twenty five years in film and television. 2009 saw something of a departure for him as he played a suicidal gay man in A Single Man, and here, as speech afflicted Albert “Bertie” Windsor/would-be King George VI, he stretches further, expressing hard fought, roiling emotion and temper that would be considered uncouth in many of his previous, more placid roles.
While the scope of this character study is rather narrow, especially given the enormity of the times, and the renown of many of the players involved, there is something satisfying about seeing a historical piece that focuses on the personal. It is easy for sweeping historical tales to lose sight of their main characters as it is often a chore to give great events their proper weight, while attempting to humanize personal stories. That is never the case here, and director Tom Hooper does his best not to trivialize or give short shrift to world wide political happenings that would come to shape and define the middle part of the 20th century.
Born in 1895, Prince Albert was the second son of King George V (Michael Gambon) and Queen Mary (Claire Bloom). He married Queen Elizabeth (Bowes-Lyon) and had two daughters, Elizabeth (who became Queen Elizabeth II) and Margaret. Afflicted with a serious stammer, Albert was eventually forced to take the crown in 1937 when his older brother, newly appointed King Edward VIII (Guy Pearce) abdicated due to his involvement in a scandal over his marrying a twice divorced woman, Wallis Simpson (Eve Best).
From top to bottom the cast is superb, with veteran British actors like Gambon, Bloom, Timothy Spall (as Churchill) and Derek Jacobi (as Archbishop Cosmo Lang) occupying small roles, but managing to imbue them with the required gravitas, making each of their relatively short time on screen memorable. Firth, Carter, and Rush are wonderful in the prime slots, pulling off the subtly humorous asides/comedic moments largely based on manners with as much aplomb as the more dramatic scenes. There is tremendous pleasure to be derived from watching a production that is so thoroughly professional, observing experienced actors inhabit roles with the kind of ease and adeptness that would make most fellow professionals envious.
Director Tom Hooper (John Adams; The Damned United) provides some fittingly awe-struck photography (DP Danny Cohen) at the grandiosity of the architecture, while, with the exception of a montage that involves a pivotal radio broadcast, keeping us away from the kind of cliched time passes and breadth cheats that can sometimes awkwardly stand apart from the rest of the film. He instead pays close attention to the smaller design and costume details that give the film its authentic feel, and allows the wonderful actors at his disposal to serve as the main show.
The relationship between speech therapist Lionel and Bertie, as the two refer to themselves in the room, is a special one. Rush is an expert at this type of role, that of the slightly eccentric outsider. There is humor and real warmth between these two men - one, a failed actor and family man from humble means, the other, wealthy, from royalty, but largely friendless, and burdened by expectations and the affliction he believes to be incurable. Their friendship and professional working partnership is allowed the room to evolve and take shape over time, traversing several highs and lows as George ascends to the throne.
The sessions Bertie and Lionel share become as much like actual talk therapy as they are about the physical delivery of words, and there is illuminating discussion along these lines, including the idea that people are not born stutterers (as Bertie was not), but rather develop the condition. In this way, the film does great justice to the issue of speech affliction. There is one particularly nice moment when Churchill reveals to King George his own history of impediment, illustrating the universal nature of the problem.
It is the accumulation of a number of these well handled moments, and the restraint Hooper demonstrates in refusing to allow melodrama or ornateness to overtake that help make The King’s Speech such an enjoyable watch.