by Chris Marshall:
It’s hard to believe that I’m at a point in The Oscar
Project where I’m watching a movie that I originally saw in a theater in Ohio.
While watching The King’s Speech, my
main thought was, “Didn’t I just see this?” It has, amazingly, been a year and
a half now, but it still seemed so fresh in my memory.
I genuinely enjoyed the film, both this time and the first
time, but I also believe it was nowhere close to the best movie of its year. I
thought that honor went to The Social
Network, and I say that even though I hate, hate, hate Aaron Sorkin. But
there’s nothing wrong with The King’s
Speech, and it certainly feels like the type of movie that the Academy
loves.
It recounts the true story of George VI’s[1]
struggle with his stuttering problem and his efforts to overcome it, at least
to a great enough extent that he could deliver speeches when World War II broke
out. His speech impediment was quite severe, and it was made worse considering
how, shall we say, insensitive people were back then. If you look back at the
Best Picture winners from the 1930s, you will often see stutterers portrayed as
the bumbling comic relief.
There was also the fact that George VI didn’t even want to
be king, nor did he even anticipate it. His older brother, Edward VIII[2],
was the rightful heir to throne, but he abdicated so he could divorce his wife
and marry Wallis Simpson. George found himself in the middle of a pretty
explosive situation. He suddenly had to be king, he had a major stuttering
problem, and World War II was about to start.
After many speech therapists tried and failed to fix his
problem, all hope seemed to be lost. That is, until George’s wife, Elizabeth
Bowes-Lyon, discovered Lionel Logue, an Australian therapist and aspiring actor
who used some quite unorthodox methods for treating his patients’ speech
problems. Of course, thinking back on it, I don’t know how orthodox putting
marbles in one’s mouth and trying to speak is either, a strategy used by George’s
first therapist.
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| Nice hat! |
Logue’s technique involved doing things seemingly unrelated
to speech. He had George quit smoking, and he forced him to do calisthenics and
other exercises, in an attempt to strengthen his diaphragm muscles. Most
importantly, he demanded that he be treated as an equal while in George’s
presence. The king (well, future king at this point) was initially resistant,
but ultimately, after time and success had weakened his stubbornness, the two
became close friends.
The cornerstone of this film is its acting. Even if the film
as a whole didn’t deserve its Oscar, Colin Firth certainly did, and Geoffrey
Rush’s portrayal of Lionel Logue was spot-on as well. Firth does such a
masterful job of nailing George’s speech patterns; it actually feels like you’re
watching a king, not an actor. It was also weird seeing Firth in a role where
one of the Fiennes brothers wasn’t stealing his lady away from him. Oh, and
hey, there’s Guy Pearce again, playing the role of Edward VIII. He pulled off
the relatively rare feat of appearing in back-to-back Best Picture winners.
Films like this are difficult to write about because I don’t
have any passionate feelings about them one way or the other. As I said, I like
the movie, and that’s true. But I don’t love it in the way that allows me to
write about it at length. Outside of the performances, there’s nothing
spectacular about it; how Tom Hooper won for Best Director remains a mystery to
me.
So I guess I’ll wrap it up here and start preparing myself
for the final Best Picture winner of The Oscar Project. If I thought The King’s Speech felt recent, I wonder
how it’ll feel watching The Artist. I
just saw it five months ago. I’m now 100 minutes away from the finish line,
though, and that’s all that matters.
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