December 15, 2010: The King’s Speech
The King’s Speech is an Oscar front-runner for Colin Firth’s (aka Pride and Prejudice’s Mr. Darcy, as many people love him best) lead performance as the man who became King George VI of England (I’ll just call him George throughout this review for simplicity’s sake). A sensitively-told but difficult story of how his stuttering affected all aspects of his life and how he had to deal with it as a monarch in a time of frequent radio broadcasts, I quite enjoyed the film but I might not recommend it to those who don’t want anything to do with stuffy period pieces.
Of course it’s much more than that, as those who give it a chance will see. Indeed this is a period piece, but members of the royal family are portrayed as real people instead of the figureheads the world expects them to be. Humour penetrates the social protocols and risks are taken by royal and commoner alike, leading to the mutual respect which can only come from people challenging each other to improve themselves through shared difficult experiences. Firth as the struggling royal and Geoffrey Rush as his speech therapist form the core of the film, with Helena Bonham Carter as George’s wife providing the glue to hold these two men together until her husband realizes how necessary it is.
George knows that he struggles with speech, not only when speaking to his nation on the radio as he is called to do on occasion as a young adult, but even within his own family. Touching yet heartbreaking scenes with his two daughters, one of whom would go on to be the currently reigning Queen Elizabeth II, show how George can’t even tell his kids a story without a great deal of difficulty, but he resolutely makes these efforts in order to break the cycle of royal coldness which his parents have inflicted upon him, an approach where protocol trumps humanity. Evidence of this upbringing comes in a couple of scenes with George and his father (George V, played here by Michael Gambon, and who wouldn’t feel overpowered by having Hogwarts head honcho Albus Dumbledore for a father?), including one in which George struggles with a rehearsal for a radio speech and his father tries to be encouraging but ultimately berates his son for just not trying hard enough. In another striking example of this too-rigid parenting, when George’s father dies and his older brother therefore immediately becomes king, the poor soul (Edward VIII for those keeping score, but really an immature young man who never wished for royal responsibility) begins to cry and turns to his mother for a hug, and she briskly curtsies and calls him “your majesty” and glowers at him for his weakness in crying at his own father’s death. Fortunately for George, he doesn’t expect to be exposed to this sort of shame since he never expects to become king. When Edward VIII makes the shocking choice of his own romance over the monarchy and abdicates the throne in 1936, George is thrust into the spotlight and his ongoing speech therapy becomes even more critical as the nation draws ever nearer to war with Germany and a great many more radio speeches are on the horizon.
Complicated though that might sound, it’s actually an interesting story and one which comes closer than usual to holding some relevance to the modern generation. Of course, the story isn’t particularly well known to the casual royal observer so there’s plenty of exposition scattered through the film and while it’s sometimes a bit too obvious, it’s undeniably required and generally well presented. Edward VIII is portrayed by Guy Pearce as the flawed individual he is, but the screenplay gives due respect to the man’s passions and personal decisions, almost daring to pose the obvious question as to whether he would be so reviled if he didn’t happen to be born into a situation of privilege and power for which he didn’t ask. Geoffrey Rush brings his wit and integrity to a character who must have commanded plenty of both in order to gain the respect of a future king who came to him under duress. And Colin Firth, who usually has his authoritative but sensitive voice to call upon with which to create his characters, is nearly silenced here and forced to make those emotive eyes work overtime, a technique known to bring sympathetic Oscar gold but well-deserved in this case. There’s also a bit of a Pride and Prejudice (1995 miniseries) reunion here as Colin Firth (Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice) is joined by Jennifer Ehle (Elizabeth Bennet) and David Bamber (Mr. Collins) in small parts.
The King’s Speech does a terrific job of portraying the weight of royal duty and how the power it conveys is not always desired, contrary to the traditional notion of backstabbing and chicanery in order to move up the line of succession, a habit which was more prevalent a few hundred years ago. Worthy of note is that while the events portrayed in this film occurred for the most part about 75 years ago, they don’t seem nearly so distant as that because George VI was the previous monarch to the one sitting on the throne today. Elizabeth II has been Queen since George’s death in 1952, and like her father, she had the monarchy thrust upon her (and at a much younger age) when in fact her immediate family might rightfully have expected to be bypassed entirely if Edward VIII had remained king and had a son or two. George VI battled his weaknesses in order to be the best king he could be, prevailing in the second world war and reigning through a difficult time for the British Empire following the war. His daughter continues to do her royal duty while likely yearning for the more private life she may have preferred to lead. Much more than just a run-of-the-mill royal family drama, The King’s Speech packs some great performances and tells a story of real people trying to uphold their responsibility in the world.
Speaking of upholding responsibility, it’s also worthwhile to note that this film was originally written many years ago, but the script was shelved until after the death of the queen mother (Elizabeth II’s mother and George’s wife) at her request, because the events were still so close and painful for her. Little did writer David Seidler realize how long he would have to wait, as the queen mother lived to be 101 years old, but it sounds like things came together nicely in the end and the memory of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was properly respected.
Oscar bait but well worth it.
Post a Comment