Tuesday, October 1, 2019

The King's Speech or: A By-the-Book Drama that Truly Works in its Traditional Approach (Film Analysis)


In 1925, King George V reigns over a quarter of the world's people.  It is a time of relative peace, yet drastically increasing tension.  The Great War has since concluded, yet an even greater war is closing in on the horizon.  The British Crown no longer has the same authority they once had before, yet they are still the United Kingdom's figurehead—a representation of that country's power and dignity.  In the older days, all Kings had to do to represent such aspects was to look respectable in uniform and not fall off their horse.  With the advancements and increase in radio broadcasting, however, royals are expected to, as King George V (Michael Gambon) puts it himself; "invade people's homes and ingratiate ourselves with them." a duty he humorously does not think very highly of; "This family's been reduced to those lowest, basest of all creatures. We've become actors."

As such, the King has asked his second son, Prince Albert—Bertie, as he is known by his family—The Duke of York (Colin Firth) to give the closing speech at The Empire Exhibition (the largest exhibition staged anywhere in the world at the time) in Wembley, London.  The film opens by showing all the preparation that goes into giving these radio broadcasts.  In a confined, soundproof room, a broadcaster prepares by rinsing and gargling his mouth, practicing sounds, and measuring the distance between him and the microphone to ensure the ideal broadcast.  The scene really builds up tension as Bertie goes to give his big speech at the exhibition.  There is but one crucial element not yet addressed, however—Bertie has a severe stammering problem, revealed to the audience in a painfully embarrassing moment as the Prince struggles to get any of his words out during the speech.  The Royal Family has hired many physicians to try fixing such an "undignified" trait, from talking with a bunch of marbles in his mouth, to smoking cigarettes which will "calms the nerves, and give [him] confidence."

Surprisingly, none of these tactics are effective, with the Royal Family merely putting more pressure on Bertie.  King George V is nothing but aggressive towards Bertie's stammer, shouting at the man to get his words out as if it were that simple.  Bertie's older brother David, who mocks the stammer on occasion, is set to be the next King (relieving Bertie of being in the spotlight), yet has his sights set on marrying a divorced woman, something unacceptable within the Royal Family.  Given the ultimatum of accepting his role as King Edward VIII, after his father’s passing, or marrying the divorced woman, David chooses the latter—foregoing his royal heritage and making Bertie the next-in-line to become King George VI.  This is a nightmare for the newly appointed King, who now has to worry about the increasing threat of Nazi Germany and their new leader Hitler.  Unlike King George VI, Hitler is a far more capable, potent speaker, something Bertie gets to see first-hand from newsreels:

Daughter: Papa? Papa, what's he saying?

Bertie: I don't know, but he seems to be saying it rather well.

Doubtful of the Royal physicians’s abilities to help Bertie's stammer, his very supportive wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) goes to meet an unconventional speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush).  One of The King's Speech's strengths is its sharp comedic wit that balances out it's more potently dramatic moments.  An example of this is when Elisabeth goes to meet Lionel, who is unaware of her royal status.  Both actors give some sharp witty dialogue here as Lionel treats Elisabeth as any other commoner before quickly backtracking as he realizes who she is:

Elizabeth: My husband is, um... Well, he's required to speak publicly.

Lionel: Perhaps he should change jobs.

Elizabeth: He can't.

Lionel: Indentured servitude?

Elizabeth: Something of that nature, yes.

Lionel: Well, we need to have your hubby pop by. Uh... Tuesday would be good. He can give me his personal details; I'll make a frank appraisal and then we'll take it from there.

Elizabeth: Doctor, forgive me. Uh, I don't have a "hubby." We don't "pop." And nor do we ever talk about our private lives. No, you must come to us.

Lionel: I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson, my game, my turf, my rules.

Elizabeth: Mmm. And what if my husband were the Duke of York?

Lionel: …The Duke of York?

Elizabeth: Yes. The Duke of York.

Lionel: I thought the appointment was for Johnson. Forgive me, Your...

Elizabeth: Royal Highness. Yes, Johnson was used during the Great War, when the Navy didn't want the enemy to know he was aboard.

Lionel: Am I considered the enemy?

Elizabeth: You will be, if you remain un-obliging.

The setup reappears later on when Lionel's family discover who his secret client has been; "I don't think you know...King George VI."

The latter scene is almost certainly, albeit witty, filler.  The King's Speech takes liberties with telling its story, more often than not adding comedic bits and/or rearranging history to craft more fluent, dramatic storytelling.  Depending on how much of a historical buff you are, one's result may vary from these changes.  I will say, however, that these deviations are not one of those instances where the truth is more interesting, yet altered for more generic fiction.  As far as I am aware, there's nothing omitted and/or changed here that would have made the story a whole lot better.

The sessions between Lionel and Bertie have a rough start.  Lionel matches Bertie's low self-esteem and short temper with wit and blunt casualness, insisting that in order for him to fix his Royal Highness, they must be equals during their sessions—going as far as to call him Bertie, something the other physicians wouldn’t dare try.  Lionel further differentiates himself from the other physicians by telling Bertie to stop smoking:

Lionel: Please, don't do that.

Bertie: I'm sorry?

Lionel: I believe sucking smoke into your lungs, well, it will kill you.

Bertie: My physicians say it relaxes the...the throat.

Lionel: They're idiots.

Bertie: They've all been knighted.

Lionel: Makes it official, then.

Lionel starts having Bertie practice a variety of goofy-looking, yet effective vocal exercises.  There’s a montage that cuts between them practicing the various comedic exercises—such as a breathing activity where Elizabeth sits on Bertie’s chest as he inhales and exhales (which she finds fun) and Bertie swinging his arms into the air while reciting nursery rhymes like Jack and Jill—and Bertie gradually improving upon giving public speeches to the public.

It becomes apparent that Bertie's stammer is entirely psychological, as seen when he can speak fluently while listening to loud music, when he's angry, and when he's swearing.  There’s a great scene where Lionel has Bertie swear up a storm of curses (particularly the F-word), humorously startling Lionel’s son who is in the next room.  The scene is a prime example of the Motion Picture Association of America's absurd rating system, as it made the decision to give The King’s Speech an R-rating due to this particular scene.  The decision was, and remains to be, downright idiotic.  The King's Speech presents encouraging themes surrounding insecurity and public speaking, two aspects teenagers have to deal with on a daily basis.  An R-rating limited the number of teenagers that could go see the film in theaters, and for what!?  A bunch of swears—something teenagers frequently exclaim and/or hear on a daily basis.

Lionel gets to the heart of Bertie's issue in a lovely scene of comedy and potent somberness.  Lionel allows Bertie to paint one of his plane models—something King George V never allowed his children to do; "He... collected stamps, so we had to collect stamps."—if he sings about his problems.  To the tune of various melodies such as Camptown Races and Swanee Riven, Bertie begins spilling out all his inner turmoil:

Lionel: Did David ever tease you?

Bertie: Oh, yes, they all did. "B-B-B-Bertie." Father encouraged it. Said, "Get it out, boy!" Said it would make me stop. He said, "l was afraid of my father and my children are... damn well gonna be afraid of me!"

Lionel: Are you naturally right-handed?

Bertie: Left. I was... punished, and now I use the right.

Lionel: Yes, that's very common with stammerers…Who were you closest to in your family?

Bertie: Nannies. Not my first nanny. She... She loved David. Hated me. When we were... presented to my parents for the daily viewing, she would... she'd pinch me so that I'd cry and be handed back to her immediately. And then she would...

Lionel: Sing it.

Bertie: Then she wouldn't feed me. Far, far away. Took my parents... three years to notice. As you... as you can imagine, caused some stomach problems.

The tortures and torments of Bertie's childhood formed the basis for his current stammering and insecurities.  Lionel encourages Bertie to move past these traumas, not just as a professional, but as his friend:

Bertie: If I fail in my duty, David could come back. I've seen the placards. "God save our... King." They don't mean me. Every monarch in history has succeeded someone who's dead or just about to be. My predecessor is not only alive, but very much so. It's a bloody mess. Couldn't even give them a Christmas speech.

Lionel: Like your dad used to do? He's not here anymore.

Bertie: Yes, he is. He's on that shilling I gave you.

Lionel: Easy enough to give away. You don't have to carry him around in your pocket. Or your brother. You don't need to be afraid of the things you were afraid of when you were five. You're very much your own man, Bertie.

The King’s Speech reaches its titled climax when Bertie must address his Empire as King George VI—broadcasting the terrifying news of Britain's declaration of war on Nazi Germany in a manner that encourages and unites together such a large portion of the world.  Using all he's learned, all the tricks that he's been given, and with Lionel at his side, conducting Bertie inside the broadcasting room, King George VI delivers a powerful, fluent speech much to the joy of his family and the politicians.  Lionel, however, acts completely casual to the speech, knowing he could always do it—even humorously giving some constructive criticism to Bertie, who responds back with his own wit:

Lionel: It was very good, Bertie. You still stammered on the W.

Bertie: Well, I had to throw in a few, so they knew it was me.

The film concludes with a title card stating that this unconventional friendship remained until Bertie's death in the 50s.

The King's Speech is one of those by the book dramas that truly works in its traditional approach.  There's nothing breakthrough or innovative in its approach, yet the film ends up being great nonetheless.  It delivers an effective balance of sharp wit and potent drama from an impressive array of talented actors giving strong performances.  The film is also effective in tackling specific issues like stammering and broader issues such as insecurity and public speaking.  Out of the many conventional dramas that came out of the 2010s, The King’s Speech is certainly one of the best.

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