Thoughts on "The King's Speech"

The head of the largest Empire on Earth, on the cusp of the greatest War in History can barely say a complete sentence.
In a nutshell, that is the premise of The King’s Speech. For those of us who have difficulty speaking, a crowded room or a face across the table is intimidating enough. For a man with a severe stutter to speak to the entire British Empire...words fail to convey how terrifying that must be. This film, however, succeeds.
For those who have no difficulty speaking, it can be hard to convey just how frustrating, how humiliating the sensation of not being able to say what you want can be. The King’s Speech makes sure everyone in its audience knows exactly how it feels in the very opening scenes, where Prince Albert (excellent Colin Firth, forever Mr. Darcy to me) has to deliver a short speech opening the British Empire Exhibition before a huge crowd. As he falters and begins to stammer every silence, every half-word, every inarticulate sound coming out of his throat is magnified a hundred times over, reflecting his shame and embarrassment. Later his father makes him practice with the Christmas broadcast the King has just finished giving. As Albert struggles through the first few sentences, his father yells at him: “TRY!” As if that was his problem.
Seeking help, Albert’s wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter, also excellent) seeks out of the help of a rather unorthodox Australian speech therapist and failed-actor named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush, excellent). And so begins a remarkable relationship between the Duke of York and this slightly eccentric colonial, which soon develops into a surprising friendship...perhaps the first real one the Duke has ever had, baring his wife. As Logue points out, he can help the stammering only to a certain extent: to really make progress he has to reach deeper to find the underlying issues, which will require Albert to confide in him.
The film evinces incredible understanding of those with speech difficulties, and any person watching who has such a problem will find themselves nodding in sympathy with poor Prince Albert as he struggles to so much as tell a bed-time story to his daughters. Also refreshing is how Albert (or Bertie has his family…and later Logue…call him) doesn’t make immediate progress. Indeed, he is never completely cured during the film, and the ending indicates that he never was. The important thing isn’t whether he stammers, it’s whether he can perform his duties with it.
Duty is something of a subordinate theme in this movie. One of the reasons Bertie’s speech therapy is so vital is that his brother, Prince Edward, is too wrapped up in his famous romance with Mrs. Simpson to attend to his duties as heir to the throne…even after their father dies and Edward becomes King. Edward is too completely taken in by Wallis Simpson to really understand the gravity of the situation…or the fact that Mrs. Simpson has ties to the Nazis.
This is dramatized in a scene where Bertie and Elizabeth visit Edward (Guy Pearce, who is, yes, excellent as a decidedly not excellent man) and Mrs. Simpson at a royal retreat in Scotland…where Edward has set Mrs. Simpson up and is holding a raucous party. He we have one of the most heart wrenching moments in the film. Bertie follows Edward around the castle, trying to convince him to do his duty, to impress upon him the seriousness of his position (“What of Kaiser Wilhelm? What of the Russian Czar? Where are they?”), and reminding him that he can’t marry a divorced, American, Nazi-supporting woman and be King. Edward cheerfully ignores him, until finally Bertie starts putting his foot down and demanding his brother act like a King. At this, Edward viciously resorts to mocking Albert’s stutter, bringing the discussion to a brutal halt. Here we see one of the worst parts of having a speech impediment: the fact that there is always something people can easily attack and there is nothing you can do about it. Like going through life with a gaping wound you can’t protect or cover. Albert can’t respond to Edward’s mocking, since any attempt to do so would only give him more fuel, more material to turn into mockery. All he can do is back down, despite the fact that he is clearly in the right.
The worst part about this scene is that, up to this point, Edward has been a fairly pleasant character: weak, but basically good natured. The two brothers have gotten along fine. It was only when Albert tried to disrupt Edward’s foolish little world that Edward turned on him. It’s a brutal, shocking scene.
There is another element to that scene, though, which is the thought that here is a man who’s speech impediment makes it impossible for him to stand up to his own brother. How can he be expected to stand up to Nazi Germany?
This very point is illustrated in another striking moment. Edward, of course, soon abdicates to “be with the woman I love” (bleh) leaving his infinitely more admirable brother with the unenviable task of being King of England. Not long after this, King George (as Albert is now called) sees his future nemesis in a newsreel and realizes that Adolf Hitler has exactly the power that the King of England so conspicuously lacks. A power he will need to develop if he is going to lead his people through another war with Germany. All this leads up to his pivotal moment: his first war time speech, with which he will have to rally his Empire to fight the most powerful army on Earth.
Despite the subject matter – the deaths of kings, the fates of Empires, World Wars – the film staunchly remains an intimate human drama…and occasionally a human comedy, in some hilarious moments in Logue’s therapy (including perhaps the least offensive stream of profanity imaginable) and in a repeated gag involving a single shilling. Then there is the delightful moment when Logue’s wife (whom he has not yet informed of the situation) returns home unexpectedly to find the Queen of England sitting at her table while the King and her husband panic in the other room (Logue’s wife, incidentally, is played by Jennifer Ehle, who played Elizabeth Bennet opposite Colin Firth’s Darcy. They get a brief moment to exchange a look that, while completely in character, comes across almost as a shared joke. As if that wasn’t enough, David Bamber, who played Mr. Collins, also shows up briefly, still oozing slime as if he never stopped). Completely floored, she finds herself asking their royal majesties to stay for dinner…an offer which the Queen graciously deflects to the relief of all.
The film abounds with well observed little character moments, such as the aforementioned bed-time story Albert tells his daughters (“We want a story about a penguin!”), which they adore despite the difficulty he had in saying it. After he is made king comes another moment with the girls, as they uncertainly courtesy to him instead of running for a hug. One of my favorite moments, however, comes almost at the end. As Albert prepares to give his all-important speech, Winston Churchill (Timothy Spall) informs him that he himself once had a speech impediment. It’s a good example of saying a lot with very little and relying on the audience to make the connection: Winston Churchill, one of the greatest orators of the twentieth century, himself once could not speak.
As the reasons for Albert’s speech impediment come to light, we begin to wonder how he turned out as well adjusted as he is. The slow, disjointed tale of abuse gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “oh, to be king!” As our sympathy for Albert builds, however, so does our admiration. Here is a man who never wanted to be king, who never thought to be king, and who never believed he could be king. “I’m not a king!” he sobs at one point, completely overwhelmed by the unfairness of his position. In another scene he sums up his whole, horrible position in remarkable speech. “If I’m a king, where’s my power?” he asks. “Can I declare war? Form a government? Levy a tax? No! And yet I’m the seat of all authority because they think when I speak I speak for them. But I can’t speak.”
But, unlike his brother, Albert does not abandon his post. With help from his friend and his loving wife, he manfully shoulders his duty and finds, to his immense surprise, that he is equal to it after all.
I myself have a very minor speech difficulty: I would hardly even call in an impediment, more of a slight stumbling block. It’s just enough that I have some inkling of what my friends who do have speech impediments go though, and I have seen the difficulty they sometimes have in this world that seems to think a stammer is an attempt to personally inconvenience it. That is one of the best things about this film: that it provides a window into what it is like to live that way. This is largely due to Colin Firth’s acting, which, as noted, is incredible. We feel his frustration as he struggles to get his words out, his shame when he simply cannot speak, his resentment and fear of those who expect him to simply “make himself” speak well. Compare his performance with the usual presentation of stutterers: actors simply repeating the first letter of a word a few times. Firth gulps, mouths soundlessly, makes inarticulate noise, everything that someone who really has this affliction does. In short, he actually seems to be trying to talk. His acting simply cannot be praised highly enough.
Geoffrey Rush also succeeds in his rather more conventional role. He does a wonderful job of showcasing Logue’s own personal doubts, as well as his frank uncertainty about having to treat the Duke of York (and later the King of England) as just another patient, but also the awareness that that’s the only way he can help him. The relationship between Rush and Firth constitutes the heart of the film, and both actors rise marvelously to the occasion. Helena Bonham Carter is also delightful as the beloved Queen Mother and gets many of the film’s most delightful moments, such as when she has to take a moment to figure out how to use the lift down to Logue’s office. As we learn more about Bertie’s life as a member of the royal family, we can’t help but be amazed and grateful that he found and married such a wonderfully normal woman.
This is a film that should be seen by everyone, and especially anyone who has or who knows someone with a speech impediment, or a social handicap, or anything of the kind. It is a brilliant, touching, funny reminder that all great men are, first of all, just men.