The King's Speech (2010)

I worked with an actor/director a couple of years ago who described “Shakespeare in Love” as an 'actor's movie'. He encouraged everyone to go and watch it again, looking out for little side-jokes and jibes at the profession that will only be noticed by those with training. At the time I thought that was a little pretentious, but on watching the film it became clear: everyone involved in “Shakespeare in Love” was in love with acting as a craft. The nature of the film gave them a perfect springboard for what amounted to a good-natured roasting of their livelihood. The reason I feel the need to describe this is that “The King's Speech” left me with the same impression.

The crux of the film rests on the interplay between the (soon-to-be)King George VI and his Australian speech therapist, Lionel Logue. King George VI, affectionately known as 'Bertie' to his close friends and family, is played by Colin Firth. There is a tremendous sense of internal strength to his performance, as he manipulates the limitations of the character's speech impediment and transforms it into an endearing trait. Firth is known for his excellent vocal performances, so seeing him work with a character like this demonstrates his versatility and technique. Geoffrey Rush plays Lionel Logue, whose Australian nationality and expressive personality are the antithesis to the reserved, quiet nature of the king.

The script is written in such a way as to allow Firth and Rush simply to act, without the need for gimmicks or a wide selection of secondary characters. Watching Lionel leading Bertie out of his comfort zone with unusual vocal exercises is a delight, particularly when the audience is treated to an uncomfortable Bertie shouting out some truly filthy language. Whilst there are other notable performances in the film (particularly Helena Bonham-Carter, who plays Queen Elizabeth) it is the chemistry between Lionel and Bertie that the film hangs it's hat on, and rightly so.

The technical side of the film is fantastic, primarily because it never draws attention away from the actors. The director clearly had confidence in his troop because the normal pitfalls of period drama are refreshingly absent. Clothes and sets are all authentic, but never take centre stage. In fact, much of the film is set in tight corridors and bare rooms, such as Lionel's office. This is perhaps the main strength of the film: despite being a period drama, the script places emphasis on the people rather then the date. It is easy for the audience to empathise and relate to the characters because we are given access to their inner thoughts and anxieties, which are irrespective of the years within which the movie is set. Even when the film indulges in it's more glamorous areas, such as Wembley Stadium, it never is to the detriment of the dialogue. One joke seems to be a sly wink to this idea when, late in the film, Bertie becomes frustrated that Lionel is sitting in King Edward's Chair in Westminster Abbey before the coronation. Lionel, with a bemused look, tells him that “People have carved their names on it!” In a sentence, Rush takes all the pomp and glamour out of one of the most important artefacts in the world, situated in one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. As the camera stays steady on Rush's face in a close-up, the audience is made to realise that it is the characters in the film whom they are interested in and not the trappings that surround them.