Rated R for language
Cast: Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Timothy Spall, Derek Jacobi, Jennifer Ehle, Michael Gambon
Director: Tom Hooper
"I don't know what he is saying, but he says it well."
Bertie, Duke of York (Colin Firth) utters these words upon seeing coronation newsreel footage featuring Hitler inciting the German people. Oratory skills are a necessary evil for world leaders. With powerful orators like Benito Mussolini and Adolph Hitler on the rise, it's a bad time for the King of England to have a speech impediment.
The younger son of King George V understands this all too well. He's been in unfortunate possession of a stammer for as long as he can remember. His father (Michael Gambon) has passed, leaving his older brother David (Guy Pearce) the new King. But following the sound of his own heartbeat, David abdicates the throne when not allowed to marry the twice-divorced Wallis Simpson. This leaves Bertie to be King... a position he secretly dreads. The Duchess of York (Helena Bonham Carter) has already summoned help in the form of a rather eccentric Australian speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). The relationship between Bertie and Logue begins on rough terrain, but strengthens with the passage of time and an understanding of each others' vulnerabilities.
"The King's Speech" is the best kind of historical drama; one that focuses on overcoming personal obstacles rather than noteworthy achievements. I once had a history teacher who couldn't understand our apathy regarding certain historical figures. "How can you not be fascinated by great individuals? Don't you want to be inspired?" An understandable query, but when you're a hopelessly awkward teenager brought to a boil in a steaming pot of social insecurity, it's infinitely more interesting to learn about flawed individuals than great ones.
The movie is fascinating in that the very elements that make it humorous also make it touching. Consider the first meeting between the Duchess of York and Lionel Logue. She comes calling at his residence, and struggles to understand the machinations of the building's gated elevator. The scene gets a laugh, but it's also uniquely moving. She loves both her husband and her country too much to remain confined to the Royal Comfort Zone. Bertie needs help regardless of whether or not he wants it, and she will go to whatever length to summon it.
Logue is known for unorthodox teaching methods, and carries an air of refreshing candor. Under the guise of a "Mrs. Johnson", the Duchess informs Logue about her husband's stammer and the fact that his job requires public speaking. Logue quips, "Perhaps another job? Or is he an indentured servant?" Well... sort of. Her true identity is soon revealed to Logue, and he agrees to take her husband on as a client, albeit with one stipulation... he will only treat him at his own residence. "My castle. My rules."
Both men are defined by their social status, which makes the teacher/student relationship stumble mightily from the starting gate. Logue insists on equal footing, and so refuses to address him as "Your Highness" and inquires about the possibility of calling him Bertie. This doesn't sit well with the Duke. Logue also wastes no time in attempting to break Bertie of bad habits taught by those in his inner Royal circle. At one point in their initial meeting, Bertie pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it...
Logue: Please don't do that.
Bertie: My doctors have informed me that smoking helps to relax the jaw muscles.
Logue: They're idiots.
Bertie: They've been knighted.
Logue: That makes it official then.
Logue understands that stammers can be the offspring of childhood trauma, though Bertie disputes this notion. Eventually, Logue does help Bertie convey the adolescent pain that has long since set up shop in his psyche. He encourages these painful personal revelations in song when words fail the Duke. The power of these scenes is absolutely piercing, yet the film wisely avoids diving into mawkishness. It possesses an understated elegance. Painful truths are gently revealed rather than hammered home.
Through Colin Firth's masterful performance, we're able to comprehend the depths of Bertie's insecurity and how it has been shaped through both his own childhood experiences and his unusual ascension to the throne. Geoffrey Rush is equally effective as a man whose own failed dreams of performing on stage haven't dampened his belief in the power of his unorthodox methods. When his credentials are called into question by the King's inner circle, he responds with confidence... despite his rather modest qualifications, he has never misrepresented himself. This satisfies the King.
The screenwriter is David Seidler, who had his own speech impediment as a child and drew strength from the King's story. The director is Tom Hooper, best known for the HBO miniseries "John Adams." As he did with that miniseries, Hooper skillfully bridges the emotional gap between figures we've read about in history and individuals we may know whose flaws strike very close to home. When the King's coronation speech is finally delivered, it is successful beyond expectations, but not quite perfect. Afterward, Logue informs Bertie "You still stammered on the W's," to which the King replies, "I had to throw in a few of those so they'd know it was me." A great line, one that Hooper later revealed was lifted from the King's own diary.
The successful speech earns the admiration and respect of the King's people, conveyed in the thundering applause following its delivery. A triumphant conclusion, though I was moved more by something else. As the King waves to his supporters from his balcony, Logue--ever so subtly--positions himself so that he can see over the King's shoulder, observe the reaction. Contemplate his role in history. His facial expression is subtle but powerful. He doesn't really smile, but he does look peaceful. Content. His own personal aspirations might have fallen short, but something greater has taken their place. At that moment we realize that true contentment lies not in the manifestation of one's aspirations, but the possibility that those aspirations can alter the lives of other people. You never know who you're going to meet.
* * * * out of * * * * stars
Bertie, Duke of York (Colin Firth) utters these words upon seeing coronation newsreel footage featuring Hitler inciting the German people. Oratory skills are a necessary evil for world leaders. With powerful orators like Benito Mussolini and Adolph Hitler on the rise, it's a bad time for the King of England to have a speech impediment.
The younger son of King George V understands this all too well. He's been in unfortunate possession of a stammer for as long as he can remember. His father (Michael Gambon) has passed, leaving his older brother David (Guy Pearce) the new King. But following the sound of his own heartbeat, David abdicates the throne when not allowed to marry the twice-divorced Wallis Simpson. This leaves Bertie to be King... a position he secretly dreads. The Duchess of York (Helena Bonham Carter) has already summoned help in the form of a rather eccentric Australian speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). The relationship between Bertie and Logue begins on rough terrain, but strengthens with the passage of time and an understanding of each others' vulnerabilities.
"The King's Speech" is the best kind of historical drama; one that focuses on overcoming personal obstacles rather than noteworthy achievements. I once had a history teacher who couldn't understand our apathy regarding certain historical figures. "How can you not be fascinated by great individuals? Don't you want to be inspired?" An understandable query, but when you're a hopelessly awkward teenager brought to a boil in a steaming pot of social insecurity, it's infinitely more interesting to learn about flawed individuals than great ones.
The movie is fascinating in that the very elements that make it humorous also make it touching. Consider the first meeting between the Duchess of York and Lionel Logue. She comes calling at his residence, and struggles to understand the machinations of the building's gated elevator. The scene gets a laugh, but it's also uniquely moving. She loves both her husband and her country too much to remain confined to the Royal Comfort Zone. Bertie needs help regardless of whether or not he wants it, and she will go to whatever length to summon it.
Logue is known for unorthodox teaching methods, and carries an air of refreshing candor. Under the guise of a "Mrs. Johnson", the Duchess informs Logue about her husband's stammer and the fact that his job requires public speaking. Logue quips, "Perhaps another job? Or is he an indentured servant?" Well... sort of. Her true identity is soon revealed to Logue, and he agrees to take her husband on as a client, albeit with one stipulation... he will only treat him at his own residence. "My castle. My rules."
Both men are defined by their social status, which makes the teacher/student relationship stumble mightily from the starting gate. Logue insists on equal footing, and so refuses to address him as "Your Highness" and inquires about the possibility of calling him Bertie. This doesn't sit well with the Duke. Logue also wastes no time in attempting to break Bertie of bad habits taught by those in his inner Royal circle. At one point in their initial meeting, Bertie pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it...
Logue: Please don't do that.
Bertie: My doctors have informed me that smoking helps to relax the jaw muscles.
Logue: They're idiots.
Bertie: They've been knighted.
Logue: That makes it official then.
Logue understands that stammers can be the offspring of childhood trauma, though Bertie disputes this notion. Eventually, Logue does help Bertie convey the adolescent pain that has long since set up shop in his psyche. He encourages these painful personal revelations in song when words fail the Duke. The power of these scenes is absolutely piercing, yet the film wisely avoids diving into mawkishness. It possesses an understated elegance. Painful truths are gently revealed rather than hammered home.
Through Colin Firth's masterful performance, we're able to comprehend the depths of Bertie's insecurity and how it has been shaped through both his own childhood experiences and his unusual ascension to the throne. Geoffrey Rush is equally effective as a man whose own failed dreams of performing on stage haven't dampened his belief in the power of his unorthodox methods. When his credentials are called into question by the King's inner circle, he responds with confidence... despite his rather modest qualifications, he has never misrepresented himself. This satisfies the King.
The screenwriter is David Seidler, who had his own speech impediment as a child and drew strength from the King's story. The director is Tom Hooper, best known for the HBO miniseries "John Adams." As he did with that miniseries, Hooper skillfully bridges the emotional gap between figures we've read about in history and individuals we may know whose flaws strike very close to home. When the King's coronation speech is finally delivered, it is successful beyond expectations, but not quite perfect. Afterward, Logue informs Bertie "You still stammered on the W's," to which the King replies, "I had to throw in a few of those so they'd know it was me." A great line, one that Hooper later revealed was lifted from the King's own diary.
The successful speech earns the admiration and respect of the King's people, conveyed in the thundering applause following its delivery. A triumphant conclusion, though I was moved more by something else. As the King waves to his supporters from his balcony, Logue--ever so subtly--positions himself so that he can see over the King's shoulder, observe the reaction. Contemplate his role in history. His facial expression is subtle but powerful. He doesn't really smile, but he does look peaceful. Content. His own personal aspirations might have fallen short, but something greater has taken their place. At that moment we realize that true contentment lies not in the manifestation of one's aspirations, but the possibility that those aspirations can alter the lives of other people. You never know who you're going to meet.
* * * * out of * * * * stars
