The Duke of York stammers. This is not really a national disaster because he is the second son of George V, and therefore not up for the big job. That is, unless Big Brother David does something stupid like grow up to be a selfish wastrel besotted with an unavailable, unattractive, and unlikeable woman. That still wouldn’t have been a problem, had David (the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII) been content to keep the still-married Wallis Simpson under wraps, but as we all know, he wanted to marry her, needed to marry her, and would marry her.
Now the stammer is a national disaster. The Duke of York has become George VI with the abdication of his brother. He can’t speak more than a few words—sometimes not even that—without agonizingly long pauses, chokings, and false starts.
It’s 1936, not a good time to have a Head of State who can’t give a speech. Just a few hundred miles East of London is someone who can make very good, very long, and very patriotic speeches. In German. If George VI can’t pull a speech together for a big moment, such as announcing that England is at war with the brown-shirted mustache-man, his position as king may be wobbly. Maybe the cry will go up louder than it had been for the newly-minted Duke of Windsor to come back, wife and all.
Of course, Bertie’s tried everything to remediate his speech impediment. He’s tried every method, every doctor who can be found. Now, at last, he finds Lionel Logue, an Australian speech teacher who promises to help.
The audience hopes he can help, because watching Colin Firth choke and strain is heartbreaking. Mr. Logue attempts to break through the good King’s decades of repressed feelings so that the king can own his voice and thereby lead his Nation.
When Hitler invades Poland in 1939, and war begins, George VI must broadcast to his people for eight minutes, an Everest-like feat for a man who can barely speak to his own wife. With one-quarter of the world listening (the sun never sets, etc.), the king approaches the microphone. The light flashes. Mr. Logue nods encouragingly. It is time for the King’s Speech.
The actors all give wonderful performances. Firth delivers brilliantly, giving us a King George VI who is deeply in love with his wife, is as loyal to Duty and Country as George’s daughter has been, and is absolutely committed to overcoming a debilitating handicap. Hats off to them both: George VI who actually did it, and Colin Firth who shows us how.
Geoffrey Rush also gives a stellar performance as Mr. Logue. He makes a speech therapist into a hero and does it with heart and poignancy. We feel for him as a father, as a man: we want him to win.
Helena Bonham Carter is loving and lovely as the future Queen Mum. Wallis is suitably awful. David is suitably dominated. Queen Mary is regal, all queen.
Too bad this movie probably won’t do too terribly well at the box office. It is a wonderful movie, but very few people under 30 will care about it. This is a shame, because there are so many good things to take away from this movie: keep trying, for one thing. Don’t give up on yourself. Do your duty even when it’s painful. And so on.
There were some odd moments for this history major. For example, the Churchill character is all wrong. He has dark hair, he scowls all the time, he actually walks in front of the king into a room, and says (like we believe this), “I hate microphones too.”
The Archbishop of Canterbury is likewise awkward. In one scene, he tells the King, “Your job is to consult and to advise; you didn’t consult, but I’m going to advise.” The “advise and consent” has to do with Parliament, not the Archbishop, and certainly here it is wrenched out of context–we’re talking about the King’s choice of a speech tutor, not policy or legislation.
There are other oddities: The Duke of York goes to 10 Downing Street, rather than the PM calling on him. In another scene, we see Mr. Churchill speaking to the Duke about the inevitability of his brother’s abdication and suggesting he use the name George when he succeeds. In all my years as a Churchill fanatic, I missed this bit. Usually, Churchill is at Eddy 8’s side, encouraging him, and going to bat for him against Stanley Baldwin & Co., to the extent of endangering his own political career.
I wondered why, since obviously Colin Firth does a good impersonation of George VI, why they didn’t just get someone to do this in 1939, considering the potential for Empire-wide emotional disaster if the King gets on the wireless and flubs up in 58 countries. A pinch-speaker would have saved Bertie a world of trouble. It was all radio then, you know. No one would have known. Which makes his struggle all the more heroic.
There are a lot of “f”s and “sh”s in this movie, because Mr. Logue is attempting to un-repress the king, and swearing a lot is quite freeing, apparently. In one scene toward the end of the movie (the most memorable scene perhaps in the whole film), just before the Speech, a great many of these short Anglo-Saxon words are used to great effect. Also singing and dancing. I believe that even non-swearers of the most repressed natures will enjoy this scene. I did, if that’s any indication, but you might want to warn your teenagers that what may be proper for a King attempting to inspire his Nation is not at all proper for a young man or woman who lives in your house.
A wonderful, heartwarming movie.
Just enjoyed Kings Speech this afternoon – during the Superbowl – with my daughter (20). We both loved it. The music soundtrack was wonderful. I now agree with Sharon’s Views on 100% about this superb movie.