The King’s Speech
“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them”. William Shakespeare in Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V
In January of 1936 King George V of England died, leaving the throne to his son David, who reigned as Edward VIII for 325 days before abdicating in order to marry an American divorcee, Wallis Simpson. His brother, Albert, then became King George VI and reigned until his death in 1952.
Tom Hooper’s splendidly entertaining film The King’s Speech is the story of Albert’s unlikely ascension to the throne and of help he received along the way from an equally unlikely source.
In America we’ve long celebrated the right of an individual to shape his or her own life. It is, as we are fond of saying at All Saints, part of our DNA. In pre-World War II Britain, things could not have been less American, especially for the royal family. The young Albert, it seems, was left-handed. As this was considered inappropriate for a prince, he was forced to use his right. Bertie was also slightly knock-kneed, thus his boyhood years were spent in braces to create a good, royal bearing. Unfortunately all of this shaping also created a strong stammer that haunted Albert throughout his life, and for a man whose professional purpose is to be a public figure this was, to say the least, awkward.
In The King’s Speech Albert’s search for help with this problem leads him through a frustrating procession of doctors who treat his problem with less-than-effective therapies ranging from marbles –in-the-mouth to smoking. (FYI Albert died in 1952 from lung cancer brought on by smoking.) When his wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter)in disguise seeks the help of yet another therapist, he simply suggests her husband “change jobs,” and when she says “He can’t,” he wants to know why: “What is he, an indentured servant?” Her ironic answer—“Something like that”—captures Albert’s dilemma: he is not free to decide which role his life will play. His only choice is how that role will be played and with war looming much is riding on Albert’s performance.
Enter his redeemer. Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush) is the antithesis of Albert (Colin Firth). He’s not only a commoner, he’s a (mostly) failed actor, who makes his living as a self-styled speech therapist. He’s a man who determinedly lives life his way. He treats speech impediments his own way, too. The King’s Speech is rated R because of a scene in which Lionel encourages Bertie to curse extemporaneously. The result is one of the most delightfully vulgar things I’ve ever seen on film. In the process Bertie not only learns how to give a speech, he learns how to serve.
The bell tower here at U.T. is engraved with a quote from the gospel according to John: “You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.” It’s a goal students here at the University of Texas celebrate everyday, not the pursuit of knowledge, but the freedom to define one’s self. In the name of freedom Americans choose not only their careers and spouses, we can choose to change our sex, our appearance, and whether or not to keep our children. For us, freedom is doing what we want. It’s not what Jesus had in mind when he spoke. According to JI Packer Christian freedom is first freedom from: freedom from the power of sin and freedom from the tyranny of pleasing ourselves. As people who have been set free, we’re called to see what freedom is for: to love and serve God and our neighbor. Service is what we were made for, so freedom is found in serving.
Does Bertie live happily ever after? At the risk of spoiling the film, I’ll answer, “No more than we do.” The hope of the gospel isn’t that if we work hard, everything will be all right. Our hope is in what Christ has done and is doing in our midst. But Bertie does find that necessity isn’t the opposite of freedom.
I recommend The King’s Speech to you. Well-acted, well-scripted, a delightful story. It’ll get lots of notice come Oscar time.
If you liked this movie, you also might find this article interesting in the Wall Street Journal:http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704415104576066180967679912.html
It’s called “The Captain and The King”
The film portrays Logue (successfully) using a therapy technique wherein he records Albert’s reading of a Shakespere passage while he (Albert) listens to music over headphones. This supposedly masked Albert’s voice and allowed him to completely the passage without mistake or hesitation. This seems perfectly plausable, however, is there any evidence that this technique was actually used in the way it was depicted? If so, then please explain why this technique was not also employed for the salient speech around which the film pivots? Given the (depicted) privacy of the speech’s setting, it would have been easily accomplished and would have virtually guaranteed a flawless reading of the speech, thereby eliminating all the drama (hyped to a fair-thee-well in my opinion) that accompanied the scene. But I guess there wouldn’t have been much of a movie then, eh? Sorry, this glaring inconsistency ruins the film for me.