“The King’s Speech” is as great as all the hype. At least it was for me. I love period peices, and I love Helena Bonham Carter, and now I love Colin Firth (sp?). I always liked him, even in Mama Mia, but this movie had it all. Except singing. Well, actually, singing was used as an exercise to improve his speaking. Oh, that’s right, there was no sex to speak of; but they did talk about sex.
I was transfixed by this problem of the speech impediment. What makes a quiet movie like this work is that the filmmakers kept the focus on this one problem. They kept the class bigotry, family dysfunction, adulterous affairs, and world war secondary to the problem of “Bertie’s” speech impediment. Even Hitler is shown, and the only point made is that he is a talented orator. They raised the stakes so that the fate of England itself hinges on Albert’s ability to speak in public.
And I’m sure it did. Most English people talk funny as it is, and a stammer is a bit much, even if you’re king.