Ryan McNeil
We’ve all had moments where we’re trying to express something and end up tongue-tied and tripping over our own ideas. Well what if one was a monarch in waiting who not only can’t articulate the idea, but worse – he can barely publicly enunciate two coherent sentences?
It would seem as though the answer is to put aside all of the pomp & circumstance, think less about the masses and more about the message.
THE KING’S SPEECH is the tale of King George VI (Colin Firth). When our story begins, he is still a prince – and still only second in line to the British throne. He is nonetheless a public figure, and expected to stand behind a mic and address large gatherings of his subjects. This is a problem, since The Prince has a terrible problem with stammering, making any bit of public speaking a torture to endure for anyone unlucky enough to be within earshot.
He has tried many forms of therapy to get past the debilitating problem, but so far it has all been in vain. Seemingly on a whim, his wife, the future Queen (Helena Bonham-Carter) finds a rather unorthodox speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). Logue is able to make measures of progress with his regal patient, and modest goals seem within reach.
However, just as he seems to be getting grasp on what will be asked of him as a prince, his father King George V (Michael Gambon) falls ill. Suddenly it’s not enough to be able to handle what’s required of a prince. The king’s death, and the questions surrounding his brother’s suitability as heir to the crown mean that our hiccuping hero must prepare himself to speak as a sovereign…which very quickly ups the ante on what results an eccentric would-be actor can achieve.
What THE KING’S SPEECH wants most to tell us, is that we are defined not only by what we say, but by how we say it. If we have it within us to speak with conviction, anything is possible. We can get a raise at work, we can defend a thesis at school, we can get an entire nation to go along with something they otherwise wouldn’t. Sadly, a lack of conviction – or worse, a complete inability to string a coherent sentence – leaves one feeling like they are capable of nothing.
Colin Firth embodies the plight of King George VI, not just in his broken words, but in his expression and body language. This is a man after all, who has trouble speaking and thus speaks only when he has to. The result is that Firth’s face and physical expression fills in the blanks. As he is being scolded by his father, like a schoolboy who has been naughty at school, his mix of shame and anger strikes to the heart.
Later, when he watches a newsreel of Hitler speaking with fire and force, Firth’s expression is one of awe. In that moment, it doesn’t matter that his words are in another language. It doesn’t matter that his words will directly lead to war with George’s very kingdom. It doesn’t even matter that those words are words of venom and hate. What has the King so taken aback, is the power of Hitler’s expression, and how naturally that power seems to come to him. In moments like these, Firth’s performance tells of The King’s deep desperation to be heard, and his frustration with how difficult a task it is.
In a subtle touch, this frustration is very much echoed in the way THE KING’S SPEECH was photographed. Visually, King George spends much of this film off-centre. He spends many-a-scene in the lower left corner of the frame – especially during his sessions with Logue. This sort of framing both creates tension, and likewise suggests that something isn’t right.
Perhaps he’s angrier about his stammer than he lets on…perhaps he’s intimidated by the challenge of getting past it. It’s a wonderful visual metaphor for his predicament, and for his life thus far. Of course to counterpoint this emotional imbalance, anytime he gets past his hang-ups and finds his voice, he is usually shown dead centre.
THE KING’S SPEECH wants us to understand how belittling it can feel to endlessly reach for our own words. Such difficulties can leave both prince and peasant wrestling with their station in life. What’s fascinating, is that sometimes it’s getting past the shackles of that station that allows us to finally be heard. For many of us plebes, it can be about momentarily getting in touch with our inner JFK or our inner Muhammed Ali. For King George, it’s very much the opposite. At the core of his struggle is trying to forget about addressing an empire’s worth of subjects, and instead express his thoughts to just one person.
I can’t help but be a bit amused at the fact that I found this film tricky to write about. After all, if a king should find himself lost for words, why should a humble blogger be above the same fate? At least on the bright side, after having watched this story of self-empowerment, I’m able to take this historical lesson and amply it to my own sheepish shenanigans.