Colin Firth nails it again in The King’s Speech portraying George VI as he reluctantly assumes the throne after his brother’s abdication. Plagued since childhood with a stammer he undergoes every form of speech therapy practiced in the realm. His wife stumbles upon Lionel, an eccentric but very convincing practitioner and we have our story. The screenplay is wise and witty with much verbal sparring between Firth and Rush and we watch as a friendship grows amidst suspicion, distrust, misunderstandings and the imminent threat of war. It is beautifully filmed with some splendid sets, most notably Lionel’s almost dingy office and home. People pay small fortunes to achieve this tattered elegance and formal shabbiness. The rooms are painterly and almost impressionistic in their color and lighting. The period details are clever and the costuming is splendid. And poor Mrs. Simpson is sliced up and served like a badly concocted apple pie. It’s a wonderfully entertaining film with a generous dose of unfamiliar history. Watch for Timothy Spall as Churchill; I still think there should be an award for scene-stealing minor roles. Firth graciously sat through a so-so interview and fawning questions from his adoring subjects.
