The King’s Speech

“The King’s Speech” was made in the 1940s, I’m almost sure of it. Director Tom Hooper’s film feels so much like one, and it’s just as good as anything in that golden age of movies.

For example, a majority of the films released during that time went to promoting the war effort and used World War II as a real world back drop. “The King’s Speech” is based on the true story of King George VI, who despite a crippling fear of public speaking and a terrible speech impediment, overcame his disability to unite the country during war time while the whole world was for the first time listening on radio.

And everything about the film screams that classical quality. The screen acting is superb and charismatic. The dialogue is fast, witty and poignant. The spacious cinematography compliments the dim art direction that begs to have been shot in black and white.

“The King’s Speech” is a true throwback to the good ‘ole days, and I suspect this film that won the top prize at the Toronto Film Festival will give “The Social Network” a run for its money in the Best Picture race, becoming a battle between the values of new and old Hollywood.

Colin Firth in just about the best performance of his career since, well, last year in “A Single Man,” plays the Duke of York, Prince Albert. He is the youngest living son to King George V (Michael Gambon), who at the opening of the film entrusts Bertie to give a speech in front of thousands on the radio back in 1922. Bertie has a horrible stutter, a lisp and an overall fear of public speaking, and his awkward silence and atrocious p-p-p-pronunciation echo across an entire stadium.

For over a decade, his wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), later the Queen Mother to Queen Elizabeth II, takes Bertie to countless speech therapists to cure him. He suffers through marbles in his mouth and a doctor telling him that smoking soothes the larynx. It’s Elizabeth’s last-ditch effort that she finds Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), a failed actor turned speech therapist in the basement of a run down apartment building in London.

The banter and back and forth between Bertie and Lionel drive “The King’s Speech” forward. It is such a thrill to see these two terrific actors bonding, clashing and growing together, and the screenplay by David Seidler is as sharp as any original screenplay this year.

Lionel’s flaw, or perhaps his strength, is his ability to treat this figure of royalty as an equal, or in fact as inferior because of Bertie’s inability to speak. Rush is playful with the part of Lionel, and he remains always on, becoming a convincing friend, teacher and even rival to Bertie.

And his personality sets the theme of the film. Here we are given a character who emanates poise and demands respect constantly because of his royal status, but he is human, and his flaw even reduces him to less than that. “The King’s Speech” is about the fight to earn that same respect when conditions have changed.

In that way, Bertie being a prince and radio being a new invention is practically symbolic for anyone with both privilege and responsibility. But Bertie’s stutter is anything but symbolic, and Colin Firth makes us know it. It is a wonder to watch him perform here. Notice how his growth as a speaker is not merely linear. Firth gives away no obvious quirks or ticks to dramatize his stutter. His effort and consistency in his speech, or lack thereof, is remarkable. Watch as Firth seems to effortlessly improvise in a stretch of dialogue full of swears that earned “The King’s Speech” its unnecessary R-rating.

Firth reveals in his character a level of true torment, not just on a level of internal fear but of unbridled personal emotion and depth. His performance is as inspired and immersed as Helen Mirren’s was in portraying Queen Elizabeth II, only his character appears infinitely more difficult.

His persona is captured in Hooper’s richly expansive cinematography. Like the screenplay, the camera gives the actors room to breathe. It is starkly contrasted when Bertie is finally in front of a microphone giving a speech and the space becomes highly claustrophobic. Watching the camera grow and shrink allows us as an audience to feel every word. As we hear him give his wartime speech, we hardly hear what he’s saying; rather we take in every syllable and long pause to see if he actually survives.

It may be some time since I’ve seen a film so richly characterized and convincing in riding on a goal as dialogue driven as overcoming a speech impediment. The last movie to share this quality of “The King’s Speech” may be as far back as the ‘40s.

4 stars