The King’s Speech
I’m not always a fan of historical dramas, especially ones about real people. Often they run too long or have actors with crappy accents or go with a boring linear narrative, or all of the above. When I go to the movies, I don’t enjoy being fed the same formula over and over, so historical dramas tend to be hit or miss for me. The King’s Speech, however, is a stellar example of a film that revives its genre, and the conventions that accompany it.
In 1930s England, Prince Albert (who would become King George VI and played by Colin Firth) is suddenly forced to ascend the throne when his brother abdicates to marry a twice-divorced woman. While he has the intelligence and passion to lead, George VI has a debilitating stutter he’s been unable to shake. When his wife Elizabeth (played by Helena Bonham Carter) finds an Australian speech therapist (Geoffrey Rush), however, he finally starts to believe he might overcome his condition and speak to a country facing WWII over the radio.
Although writer David Seidler does employ a linear narrative, its appropriate for this story because it’s about such a specific event of a man’s life. If Seidler were to include flashbacks, or start from his childhood onwards, then it would become more of an overview of King George VI’s life and the purpose of the story would be weakened. The audience needs a steady buildup to his speech so that it experiences his trials with him, and comes to empathize with his situation. Additionally, the buildup to George VI’s speech holds your attention so firmly that it seems as if the film went by in almost no time at all.
The settings and the costumes are virtually perfect. What makes British films so enviable is that they have such beautiful buildings and outdoor spaces to work with, and they’re probably all quite close to what they were originally when they were built, or at least in the 1930s, when The King’s Speech took place. Many of the scenes are in flawless, beautiful palace rooms, which are starkly contrasted with the speech teacher’s homey office space. It’s obvious that George feels more comfortable in this commoner’s workplace than his own home.
As for the cinematography, I enjoyed the way director Tom Hooper alternated between close-ups and wide shots. Often when George VI tried to speak publicly, or just speak at all, he would be in a close-up, forcing the audience to feel the pressure and his awkwardness. At times, Hooper also put the actors to the side of the frame, leaving a noticeable space beside them and giving our eyes a respite.
What makes The King’s Speech truly great, however, are the performances. You’d think playing a character with an impediment was easy just from Firth’s effortless treatment. His stutter isn’t comical or overtop as one might expect, just honest, and Firth invites affection with his demeanor alone. Rush complements Firth with his endless enthusiasm and dorkiness, and I would bet anyone they would want Rush as a mentor by the end of the film. I thought Bonham Carter’s performance stood out as well because she was understated and not trying to be quirky. (Maybe it’s just because it’s not a Tim Burton production? Who knows.)
While I don’t think The King’s Speech will win Best Picture this season (what with the colossus that is Black Swan) Colin Firth, at the very least, will have a very good chance of winning Best Actor, and I’m sure Geoffrey Rush will have a shot at Best Supporting Actor as well.
Recommendation: See this as soon as possible.
