The King's speech: It takes two to tango
Forget The Social Network and put all your money on The King’s Speech for this year’s Oscar pool.
Forget The Social Network and put all your money on The King’s Speech for this year’s Oscar pool. If you put together a committee of Academy Award voters, this is the movie they would design.
The King’s Speech is a period drama about a member of the British royal family. He has a disability that can only be overcome with the help of a surly man who turns out to have a heart of gold. Had director Tom Hooper been able to shoehorn in a Holocaust reference the game would have been over.
Despite being shiny and polished to an almost suffocating degree, the resolutely middle-brow The King’s Speech still has enough charm to make you forget how manipulative it really is.
In 1939, as Britain was entering into a war with Germany, King George VI (Colin Firth), who had reluctantly assumed the throne after the death of his father (King George V, natch), is forced to take to the airwaves to deliver stirring speeches and rally the beleaguered country. His elder brother Edward (Guy Pearce), who would have been a far more suitable choice for king, had already renounced the crown to marry a serial divorcee. The problem, as alluded to by the title of the film, was George’s ineloquence. He suffered from a hideous stutter, and stammering his way through rousing pieces was hardly going to put the fear of God and Country in the Nazis. This is George’s moment of reckoning.
The King’s Speech tells the story of how George got to the point where he actually had a chance of successfully delivering speeches that, if not matching Churchill for eloquence, wouldn’t make him the laughingstock of the dying Empire. More than even George, the film is the story of roguish Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue, played by perennial Oscar contender Geoffrey Rush.
The dance between George and Logue is a familiar one. It starts with instant dislike. Logue prefers calling the monarch by his nickname, Bertie. Predictably, relations thaw as they get to know each other and progress is made in controlling the king’s stutter.
Mostly, The King’s Speech plays like a retread of My Fair Lady, but without any hint of romantic connection between teacher and pupil. The music swells just as it seems a breakthrough might be achieved. Changes in George’s and Logue’s relationships conveniently coincide with political developments. It is all rather predictable.
The film is saved primarily Colin Firth’s performance. His is anything but a one-note portrayal. Firth slowly unpeels layer upon layer of the king’s character. His speech impediments, we soon realise, are the result of a toxic mixture of envy, wrath and self-hatred. This is a king who may possess the requisite British stiff upper lip, but Firth shows what a façade that really is.
Rush, meanwhile, playing the good-humoured, expansive Aussie has a far meatier role. Bereft of any subtlety, the character allows Rush to show off his acting chops. And he doesn’t disappoint. The interaction between the two dominates much of the film, and that is the only reason for its success. What a Shame there are no Oscars for Best Duet.
Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, January 23rd, 2011.
The King’s Speech is a period drama about a member of the British royal family. He has a disability that can only be overcome with the help of a surly man who turns out to have a heart of gold. Had director Tom Hooper been able to shoehorn in a Holocaust reference the game would have been over.
Despite being shiny and polished to an almost suffocating degree, the resolutely middle-brow The King’s Speech still has enough charm to make you forget how manipulative it really is.
In 1939, as Britain was entering into a war with Germany, King George VI (Colin Firth), who had reluctantly assumed the throne after the death of his father (King George V, natch), is forced to take to the airwaves to deliver stirring speeches and rally the beleaguered country. His elder brother Edward (Guy Pearce), who would have been a far more suitable choice for king, had already renounced the crown to marry a serial divorcee. The problem, as alluded to by the title of the film, was George’s ineloquence. He suffered from a hideous stutter, and stammering his way through rousing pieces was hardly going to put the fear of God and Country in the Nazis. This is George’s moment of reckoning.
The King’s Speech tells the story of how George got to the point where he actually had a chance of successfully delivering speeches that, if not matching Churchill for eloquence, wouldn’t make him the laughingstock of the dying Empire. More than even George, the film is the story of roguish Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue, played by perennial Oscar contender Geoffrey Rush.
The dance between George and Logue is a familiar one. It starts with instant dislike. Logue prefers calling the monarch by his nickname, Bertie. Predictably, relations thaw as they get to know each other and progress is made in controlling the king’s stutter.
Mostly, The King’s Speech plays like a retread of My Fair Lady, but without any hint of romantic connection between teacher and pupil. The music swells just as it seems a breakthrough might be achieved. Changes in George’s and Logue’s relationships conveniently coincide with political developments. It is all rather predictable.
The film is saved primarily Colin Firth’s performance. His is anything but a one-note portrayal. Firth slowly unpeels layer upon layer of the king’s character. His speech impediments, we soon realise, are the result of a toxic mixture of envy, wrath and self-hatred. This is a king who may possess the requisite British stiff upper lip, but Firth shows what a façade that really is.
Rush, meanwhile, playing the good-humoured, expansive Aussie has a far meatier role. Bereft of any subtlety, the character allows Rush to show off his acting chops. And he doesn’t disappoint. The interaction between the two dominates much of the film, and that is the only reason for its success. What a Shame there are no Oscars for Best Duet.
Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, January 23rd, 2011.