Today the Royal Family are viewed as the most scandalous family in Britain: drugs, divorce, partying, nazi costumes. They would be better suited to Celebrity Love Island than Buckingham Palace. But in the 1930s they demanded more respect than that and a weakness that threatens to strip them of that respect is very important indeed. Prince Albert’s promotion to the throne couldn’t have come at a worse time. After his father died and his brother abdicated the throne, he had his coronation in May 1937, when England was on the verge of being dragged into another world war. The people needed a king who could speak confidently and reassuringly and Albert struggled to deliver.
The King’s Speech is the biopic of Prince Albert, Duke of York (Colin Firth), second in line to the throne, yet destined to one day become King George VI, a situation that is described as ‘medieval’ by his older brother Edward. Albert is beset with a stammer, which ordinarily wouldn’t have been a problem for a member of the Royal Family, but the 20th Century rise of radio broadcasts and public speaking renders this more than a private problem. Albert is embarrassed by the deficiency, for which his older brother has mocked him since childhood and his father addressed in the way you’d expect of a stern upper-class Englishman, by telling him to ‘quit stuttering and spit it out already.’
After every avenue seems to have been exhausted, his wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) – we know her as the Queen Mother – pays a visit to the idiosyncratic Australian speech therapist Logue, known for his ‘controversial and unorthodox’ methods – ‘not [her] favourite words.’ His methods, though they may strike the modern viewer as commonsensical, probably did seem unusual at the time. He insists on delving into Albert’s private life and upbringing, trying to get at the psychological root of the stammer, something he feels very uncomfortable with.
At first glance it seems to be spinning royal themes into awards fodder in a similar way to 2006’s hugely successful The Queen, but it is rather a different beast. At its heart lies a compelling wholly affecting character drama, with its well worn themes of friendship across social boundaries, the story of two men of different social classes forming an enduring friendship. It draws from the sports-movie formula, complete with training montage, of the underdog fighting the odds to eventually come out on top. Yet the film does not come across as a cliché but as an intelligent, well-crafted story. Director Tom Hooper keeps things breezy but not glib; serious when necessary but with constant glimpses of humour.
The scenes between Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush are both delightful and heartbreaking. Though it’s the first time Firth and Rush have starred in a movie together, they have the sharp and easy-to-watch rapport of old pros. In their first hostile meeting Logue asks Albert if he can call him Bertie. His reaction to being addressed by his family nickname by an Australian commoner is priceless; as his face registers shock, indignation and outrage. Firth neither overplays it, nor underplays it, getting their relationship off to an interesting start. The power balance of their relationship is a constant entertaining struggle, Albert allowing himself to be humiliated with embarrassing exercises but making Logue continuously aware of the social gap between them. They give it humour and humanity.
The performances are stellar. Firth, as everybody has said, manages to step into one of the many aristocratic roles that made his name, with a considerable amount of maturity, dignity and dry wit, as well as devastating vulnerability and emotional fragility. But it was Rush’s performance that truly impressed me with more of a supporting role than Firth but just as important. It is the scenes between them that make up the meat of the film, with sharp dialogue and wit shared amongst them, but his solo scenes as a failed actor, overcoming his own debilitating flaws and being constantly treated as lower then his supposed friend, are heartbreaking and impressive.
Bonham Carter gives another delightful performance as the equally proud but slightly more likeable wife of Albert. The refined Duchess is a refreshing change of pace from her usual oddball characters and she delivers it with love and passion brimming just beneath her cool exterior. We are also privileged to small but colourful supporting performances from Guy Pearce as Albert’s immature and easily manipulated brother Edward, Michael Gambon as his stern and old-fashioned father King George V, Timothy Spall as the supportive Winston Churchill and Derek Jacobi as a disapproving archbishop and fans of TV’s Outnumbered will be very pleased to see nine-year old Ramona Marquez cast as the delightfully pompous Princess Margaret.
Both one of the most entertaining and intriguing British films in years. It brings a patriotic tear to the eye – who am I kidding, I was in pieces.
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