The King's Speech (15.)
Directed by Tom Hooper.
Starring Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Derek Jacobi, Michael Gambon. 110 mins.
The plot is an historical version of what Rolf Harris was daydreaming while he was doing the Queen’s portrait, the fantasy that a humble but resourceful antipodean could not only win over the starchy repressed royal with his brash informality but inspire them to be a great ruler.
The royal is the future King George VI (Firth) who as a last resort turns to speech therapist Lionel Logue (Rush) in an attempt to overcome the dreadful stammer that has made his Royal engagements such a trial. Initial encounters are fraught but his elder brother’s infatuation with Mrs Simpson and the machination of Herr Hitler in Europe mean that he can no longer shirk the limelight.
I’d normally abhor a review that discussed a film in terms of its Oscar pedigree, but for The King’s Speech it is really the only thing that is relevant. It is the ultimate Oscar Pleader, it’s got everything.
There’s triumph over adversity; costume drama; posh English people in (very) stately houses; historical figures; a mismatched pair coming together; fog drenched London streets (no doubt a necessity to cover up modern buildings); World War II; Edward and Mrs Simpson (neatly sinking Madonna’s directorial debut on the subject); repressed emotions a la Remains of the Day; the patient/ psychiatrist relationship at the heart of academy favourites such as Good Will Hunting and Ordinary People. It even springs a variation on the Hugh Grant repeatedly swearing at the start of Four Weddings.
But what makes it so special is that while most Oscar Pleaders have to shape and mould their material so that it will fit the formula, in The King’s Speech it all seems to have fallen effortlessly into place. It has a regal superiority, it starts at the level other films aspire to and from that it just takes off and becomes wonderful.
The acting is of course the main thing and it is uniformly excellent. Guy Pearce seems to have sunk so far into the role of Edward VIII it takes a minute or two to convince yourself it really is him. Geoffrey Rush is listed as one of the producers and he’s given himself the showy role, part Crocodile Dundee, part Barbara Woodhouse. But it is actually the least interesting one. Repression is the thing here, depths of emotion held rigidly in check.
There is something about Firth that always leads you to think of him being surprisingly good. He’s been a lead actor since the late eighties, he invariably very good so how can it still take us by surprise? Probably because he seems to do so little, but the so little he does is just devastatingly effective.
So here is a real surprise: a quality movie that is actually quality.
Directed by Tom Hooper.
Starring Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Derek Jacobi, Michael Gambon. 110 mins.
The plot is an historical version of what Rolf Harris was daydreaming while he was doing the Queen’s portrait, the fantasy that a humble but resourceful antipodean could not only win over the starchy repressed royal with his brash informality but inspire them to be a great ruler.
The royal is the future King George VI (Firth) who as a last resort turns to speech therapist Lionel Logue (Rush) in an attempt to overcome the dreadful stammer that has made his Royal engagements such a trial. Initial encounters are fraught but his elder brother’s infatuation with Mrs Simpson and the machination of Herr Hitler in Europe mean that he can no longer shirk the limelight.
I’d normally abhor a review that discussed a film in terms of its Oscar pedigree, but for The King’s Speech it is really the only thing that is relevant. It is the ultimate Oscar Pleader, it’s got everything.
There’s triumph over adversity; costume drama; posh English people in (very) stately houses; historical figures; a mismatched pair coming together; fog drenched London streets (no doubt a necessity to cover up modern buildings); World War II; Edward and Mrs Simpson (neatly sinking Madonna’s directorial debut on the subject); repressed emotions a la Remains of the Day; the patient/ psychiatrist relationship at the heart of academy favourites such as Good Will Hunting and Ordinary People. It even springs a variation on the Hugh Grant repeatedly swearing at the start of Four Weddings.
But what makes it so special is that while most Oscar Pleaders have to shape and mould their material so that it will fit the formula, in The King’s Speech it all seems to have fallen effortlessly into place. It has a regal superiority, it starts at the level other films aspire to and from that it just takes off and becomes wonderful.
The acting is of course the main thing and it is uniformly excellent. Guy Pearce seems to have sunk so far into the role of Edward VIII it takes a minute or two to convince yourself it really is him. Geoffrey Rush is listed as one of the producers and he’s given himself the showy role, part Crocodile Dundee, part Barbara Woodhouse. But it is actually the least interesting one. Repression is the thing here, depths of emotion held rigidly in check.
There is something about Firth that always leads you to think of him being surprisingly good. He’s been a lead actor since the late eighties, he invariably very good so how can it still take us by surprise? Probably because he seems to do so little, but the so little he does is just devastatingly effective.
So here is a real surprise: a quality movie that is actually quality.
