Best Picture: #83
Original Release Date: November 26, 2010
Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hour, 58 minutes
Director: Tom Hooper
Quick Impressions:
My daughter’s been home recovering from a severe second-degree sunburn on her legs, so we had time to watch a Best Picture winner together in the daytime. (It was nice to cuddle up together on the couch—until, without thinking, I accidentally reached over and patted her on the leg! She screamed, “Mom!”)
Unfortunately, I got so excited about starting our Best Picture Project up again that I completely forgot about The Hurt Locker. So just this once, we’ll have to watch the winners out of order. (There’s not much I can do about it now.) With her painful sunburn, she didn’t need to watch someone stressed out in the desert sun right now, anyway.
At any rate, realizing I’d skipped the 82nd Best Picture winner and jumped right to the 83rd drew my attention to the staggering number of movies we’ve watched together as part of this project. As I remarked on it, my son said something like, “And you’re only forty-four!” I chided him, “No, I’m forty-three!”
But I’m not. He was right. It was a horrible shock. It’s not that I mind being forty-four. It’s that I don’t remember turning forty-four! I feel like I’ve aged about thirty years since 2020, but also like part of me froze then and doesn’t exist anymore.
So with that maudlin thought, I begin this review of a movie I’ve always quite liked, The King’s Speech.
I remember back in 2011, everyone was so outraged The Social Network didn’t win Best Picture. The general complaint was that older members of the Academy were out of touch and didn’t understand the cultural significance of Facebook. And now (according to my kids) only old and out-of-touch people use Facebook. So despite the way social media has radically transformed society, maybe a movie about a king finding his voice to rally his country in the face of Nazi aggression does have more staying power, after all. Who knows!
Even though I agree Facebook was a game changer, I usually like David Fincher’s movies, and I’m not an older member of the Academy, I preferred The King’s Speech, too. So did my husband. We weren’t motivated by animosity. (Well. Maybe my mother was. She could not stand The Social Network!)We simply preferred the experience of watching this one. Of course the subject matter interested us! I studied English literature, loved English history. We’d honeymooned in London.
Why these two completely different movies must be pitted against each other is another question. Do others still think of Oscar rivals in conjunction, or is it just me? Now that we’re into the twenty-first century, I almost never encounter a Best Picture winner without also calling to mind its perceived competitor for the big prize of the night, not to mention whatever bizarro “scandal” gave one the edge or dethroned the other. Should I blame Harvey Weinstein for that? But maybe my own brain feeds on antithesis, or maybe giving out awards has always bred rivals.
The King’s Speech is so pleasant to experience. Watching George VI learn to trust someone enough to work through his speech impediment is satisfying and rousing at every turn. I remember being so happy when Helena Bonham Carter won a BAFTA for her performance. I wanted her to win the Oscar, too. (And so did my mom who, for some reason, super had it in for Melissa Leo.) Helena Bonham Carter has the most expressive eyes. She almost steals the movie with her stolen glances. I remember her mentioning in her BAFTA speech that she wouldn’t win at the Oscars, and I thought sadly, “Aww. Are you sure?”
If you enjoy her performance as Queen Elizabeth (the Queen Mother), good news! You can watch her play her own daughter (Princess Margaret) on The Crown.
The Good:
Do you know what I love best about this movie? It comes right at the beginning. Helena Bonham Carter shows up at the (somewhat dinghy) office of Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush) and starts talking about the needs of her husband, Mr. Johnson. She makes some unusual requests, then finally asks, “And what if my husband were the Duke of York?”
I can’t resist stuff like this! In Genesis, the sudden reveal of, “I am your brother Jospeh!” after that elaborate charade with Benjamin and the cup. Or in the New Testament when Mary Magdelene assumes Jesus is the gardener until he says to her, “Mary.” There’s Odysseus and his scar, and the later, “Who moved my bed?” moment. I live for stuff like this. I cannot get enough of, “Surprise! Look who I am!” scenes. (I think of them as discovery scenes, but strictly speaking, that’s not the right term.) (Well, it might be with Odysseus and the bed.)
It’s great that this moment comes right at the beginning (and then happens again near the end when the royal couple meets Logue’s unsuspecting wife) because it sets up a story that is all a big discovery. That’s exactly what happens to Bertie (Best Actor winning Colin Firth) in this journey of his. “Surprise, you’re the king!”
That’s what the whole movie is about. First, he doesn’t expect to be the king. Then he doesn’t believe it. The King’s Speech is about Bertie, surprised to be King George VI, discovering his own voice.
“What was your favorite scene?” I asked my daughter just now.
“I like when Logue’s wife finds them,” she replied, validating all my views on this movie. (It’s like a fun little surprise for us viewers, too, that Logue’s wife is played by Jennifer Ehle, whom Colin Firth fans no doubt remember as Elizabeth Bennet. It’s like a little Pride and Prejudice joke that she comes home to discover he’s visiting her house. Mr. Darcy!)
Colin Firth is superb in what must be a difficult role. The only acting award I ever won in high school was for playing Mary MacGregor in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. I enjoyed that part because stuttering realistically was tricky. I couldn’t usually do it cold. I had to grow into the character. (On the other hand, staring off into space and looking convincing in a Catholic school girl outfit came naturally to me.) Not only does Firth make Bertie’s speech impediment realistic and consistent, but he also plays such emotionally charged scenes as he’s suffering through therapy with his vocal coach/friend. Colin Firth doesn’t really resemble George VI. (I saw in imdb trivia that the part was originally intended for Paul Bettany, who seems a much closer fit physically.) I like the approach of letting Firth look like himself and act like the king. In a story about finding his voice, finding himself, I think it’s better not to bury him under prosthetics and make up. That would probably be distracting.
Rush is very engaging as Lionel Logue, too. One of the film’s more compelling elements is that it’s based on a true story not often told (stateside, anyway). Who would expect the King of England to learn to speak proper English from an Australian who isn’t a doctor and can’t even get cast in amateur Shakespeare? It seems like some bizarre, reverse My Fair Lady. I mean, wouldn’t you expect the Australian immigrant to learn to speak English properly by listening to the king’s speeches? It’s a jarring surprise that he’s the one teaching the king to speak. Honestly, if you didn’t know this was a true story, the premise would sound like a kooky sitcom pitch.
This time I watched knowing the filmmakers had Logue’s diaries at their disposal. That makes the movie even better. Stories from history that are this heartwarming aren’t usually so true. For whatever reason, at a fair number of moments (usually when he’s silently reacting to things) Rush’s performance as Logue kept reminding me of Alec Guiness (and sometimes Robert Preston). I can’t think of any reason Rush would be channeling either of those actors intentionally. I’m just mentioning it because the thought kept crossing my mind. (Maybe it’s because he’s often making a, “Hmm, how puzzling,” face, and both of them do that a lot.) Since George VI is working on speaking, Geoffrey Rush does a lot of listening in this movie. He finds a variety of immensely captivating listening faces and encourages us to listen, too.
One minor detail that I love is that early on, Logue auditions (unsuccessfully) for the lead in Richard III. I would love to know if this is historically accurate. (I’m sure Logue’s love of Shakespeare and frustrating auditions is accurate. But did he really get rejected (and looked down on as an Australian) as Richard III just before becoming the speech therapist of another usurping Duke of York? (I’m not trying to insult George VI. His brother abdicated, and I’m sure he never drowned anyone in a vat of malmsey or misplaced any princes.) (Of course, I’m not completely sure Richard III did all the stuff he does in Richard III either.) But it is pretty wonderful to be laughed out of the theater after the play’s first line for being an uncouth Australian and then go and act a key role in a similar real-life crisis of state. It’s such a delightful literary flourish it almost seems to good to be true. (I’ll have to look it up.)
The rest of the cast is good, too, and some characters seem quite well drawn, despite limited screentime. Somewhat eerily, just minutes after watching Michael Gambon die on screen as King George V, we learn that the actor had passed away in real life. He’s properly austere as the intimidating George V. And Guy Pearce makes an appropriately exasperating Edward VIII (known to the family as David). In fact, it’s one of my favorite Guy Pearce performances. That probably sounds surprising, but Pearce is convincing and fairly naturalistic here, which is not always true of his performances. Without needing to go to spectacular lengths, he convinces us that he is David and seems at ease playing the character (who is ill at ease being the king).
Timothy Spall is kind of hamming it up as Winston Churchill, but honestly, I don’t see how else you play Churchill properly in such a small role. I mean, Churchill played Churchill. It’s almost like he’s there himself in a celebrity cameo. “I’m Winston Churchill, so you can see this is one film about the beginning of World War II you can trust.” (Irrelevant detail: My daughter was surprised to learn Churchill had a tongue tie. Her little brother did, too, and when he was a baby, he looked just like Winston Churchill!)
I find Alexandre Desplat’s score haunting and lovely. And (particularly to me as a writer), it’s inspiring that David Seidler won his first (and so far only) Oscar for Best Screenplay in 2012 when he was 74 for a project that had fascinated him for so long. The film won four Oscars in total, for Picture, Actor, Original Screenplay, and Director.
Best Scene Visually:
I love the haunting moment when Bertie and Logue are walking in the park, and Logue pushes his patient just a little too hard. The Duke of York fires him and walks rapidly ahead, leaving Logue trailing behind for a moment, then finally coming to a full stop in the fog. The look of the scene is so hazy and sad. It’s visually arresting.
The reason I truly love the moment, though, is that almost immediately after this, Logue’s wife asks him what’s wrong, and he replies that he’s having trouble with a patient. So he’s not upset that he’s been fired. In his mind, he hasn’t been fired. That’s not the issue. He’s still in his patient’s head, puzzling out how best to help him.
Logue has many reasons to be insecure about the loss of the Duke of York’s patronage. He’s Australian. His credentials may not be what people assume. He can’t even get cast in amateur Shakespeare productions (despite his love of and familiarity with the material). This could become a catastrophic blow to his ego. But it’s not. He’s still considering how to treat his patient, concerned about the fate of the man and the nation.
It’s also pretty epic when Colin Firth turns around to discover Geoffrey Rush lounging provocatively in the coronation chair. Rush should have won an Oscar, too, just for the expression on his face in this moment. (He was nominated.)
On an unrelated note, I’ll unhelpfully add (with my lack of technical expertise) that the cinematographer is very good at filming women in hats.
Best Scene:
Not surprisingly, the best scene comes at the end when—you’ll never guess—we finally hear the king’s speech. (Yes, obviously, the title has a double meaning, but it would be somewhat anticlimactic for a film like this not to build to a theatrical, historically significant speech at the end.)
I’m struggling with anticlimax myself at the moment. Not in the bedroom. Well. In my bedroom closet where I’m busily revising the nonfiction book I’m working on, making sure the narrative has a suspenseful enough shape. (I like writing in there in the dark because I’m a natural night owl trying to fake my way through being a day person, and too much sunlight makes me spiral out in crushing, panicked recriminations, worrying alternately that I’m Gale Weathers and that I have no right to tell this story. (Neither of these things is rational. I worry if I say things like this, people will exclaim, “Oh my God! What are you writing, Sarah?” Something perfectly lovely and in keeping with my normal self-presentation style. My bizarre paranoia is not warranted.) Non-fiction involves such accountability, though. I feel the weight of it. (I know nobody is beside themselves worrying what I’m up to. But there’s still no need to go around announcing, “I’m not a murderer,” if you are, in fact, not a murderer. I worry my energy sometimes gives off that vibe.)
My own struggles make watching a film about someone else working through his struggles quite satisfying. When we started the film, my daughter asked me, “Why do people stammer?” And I was like, “Um….”
So we were both quite glad to listen to Logue discuss the psychological aspects of the condition, and it’s wonderful. Just today, I was thinking, “Okay. I took a break from writing this book to write an entire autobiographical novel, just so I could cannibalize that novel, finally discover the thought I wanted and distill it into one sentence.”
But it takes Bertie quite a long time to speak confidently as George VI. It’s a whole process.
Best Helena Bonham Carter Moments:
I’ve mentioned already that I love those discovery scenes. Helena Bonham Carter makes the most of all her screentime in this movie. I would have given her the Oscar (if I didn’t give it to Amy Adams). (It’s a good thing the Academy Awards aren’t decided entirely by me. Somehow, I feel it would be less of an honor.) (“This was decided by who?”) (Think of the Golden Globes scandals. This would be much worse.)
Possibly my favorite of her moments is when she graciously turns down Logue’s wife’s impromptu invitation to stay to dinner, though it would have been “such a treat.” My God! Can you imagine if the Queen of England showed up at your house for dinner? “Your Majesty, would you like some taquitos?”
I also love the seeming My Fair Lady reference near the beginning where she questions one therapist’s pebble technique. Hasn’t anybody come up with any better methods since Demosthenes? She doesn’t want Henry Higgins treating her husband, thanks. It may be true that, “If it’s good enough for Demosthenes, it’s good enough for Eliza Doolittle.” But that doesn’t mean it’s good enough for the Duke of York. He has a name of his own. They’re not looking for names to drop. They’re looking for a treatment that works.
Her gentle speech to Bertie about her reasoning for marrying him is so well delivered, too.
Watching this time, I suddenly realized, feeling old and out of touch, that my daughter does not remember Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, because she died before she was born. My grandma always had such a fond feeling for her.
Best Action Sequence:
Just before a crucial turning point in the film, there’s a wonderful moment when Bertie pursues his also brother, running after him all through the house. He’s chasing him. He’s putting pressure on him. He’s trying to help him. But he pushes too hard and is abruptly stopped short by him and reduced to a stammering mess. It’s a great dramatization of how and why he developed the stammer. I also thought, “But the way to undo the stammer is to play the scene backwards.” When he yells in anger (charging forward), he speaks fluidly. Logue eventually teaches him an even more helpful method.
The Negatives:
“The King’s Speech,” I murmured to myself aloud. “I don’t know what to say about it.”
“The king gave a speech,” my husband mused.
“Took him a while,” my daughter joked belligerently.
Then she said more seriously, “I don’t know what you could say is wrong with the movie. Nothing is objectively wrong with it. Even though it might not be your type of movie, I can’t think of any flaws cinematically.”
I mused, “I remember at the time people were upset…”
“That England existed,” my daughter joked. “But there’s not much we could do about that really.”
Honestly this is such a quick, enjoyable watch. The only objection I can think of is that it romanticizes the royal family and perhaps downplays Edward VIII’s more serious flaws, like being a Nazi sympathizer. (We do get a hint that Wallace Simpson is friendly with a particular Nazi and a security risk for that reason.) I remember this being a criticism of the film at the time.
I guess for us, the big criticism is that it’s not The Hurt Locker. I can’t believe I skipped that one! I was talking with my sister about it. I interrupted a conversation to ask as a non sequitur, “Have you seen The Hurt Locker?” She said she had, but then she remembered she was thinking of Zero Dark Thirty. (I love Zero Dark Thirty!) (Apparently, that’s the one my sister likes, too.) My husband initially insisted he hadn’t seen The Hurt Locker. (He has.) My daughter has seen it, too, but she was barely a year old, so I’m sure she’s also forgotten it. Looks like we could all use a refresher. Overall:
The King’s Speech is a quick and enjoyable watch. It tells an inspiring (true) story and features fantastic performances from Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, and Helena Bonham Carter. I was excited to show my daughter The Artist next (because I know she’ll like that). But I guess it will have to wait.