The King Must ‘Perform’!

Tom Hooper’s The King’s Speech is apparently a heart-warming tale of how King George VI overcomes his speech impediment with the assistance of an Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue. But the film has larger political implications: it is not just about conquering a disability, it is also about the public role of the King, and that too the British King in the 1930s who must put up a majestic performance on the world stage, a performance that would have well-meaning impact not only in England but the numerous colonies to which he was the ultimate symbol of power.

The film at one level offers a common man’s story, the Duke of York (who later becomes George VI) stripped of the royal aura that circumscribes him; at another level, it unravels the pressures of becoming the King of England, the obligation of performing as a King must conventionally perform so as to keep inviolate the notion of the Protector and perhaps also the hallowed image God’s anointed  and appointed representative on Earth. In the face of the Nazi uprising in Germany, on the eve of World War II, the King cannot afford not to perform according to the expectations of his millions of subjects scattered across the globe. The personal and the political come into a major conflict which the King must resolve. He must overcome his speech impediment or tarnish his kingly image irredeemably. The film captures the psychological struggle of the disabled King with remarkable intensity without being preachy. Colin Firth carries off the role with panache and so much credibility that you fall in love with him.

It’s a story of the marginalized, ironically indeed. The King of England and marginal? The sublimity of The King’s Speech perhaps lies in its making this absolutely credible. The King is stripped off the aura that makes him King and the film imagines his private life with amazing sincerity. While probing into the psychological roots that may be the cause of the fumble, Lionel discovers how the young prince was forced to give up his left-handedness; how he suffered the painful treatment for his knock-knees; how his nanny hated him and pinched him in the presence of his parents so that he wailed to the disgruntlement of the latter. From early childhood, he was thrust into role-playing, and no form of disability or unconventional behaviour was encouraged in him; in fact, was mercilessly repressed. Here the King’s tale coincides with that of any unfortunate child who has gone through traumatic experiences for not being ‘normal’. This is exactly where the audience connects with the King’s story, and partakes his grief.

David Seidler’s screenplay which is a product of several years’ serious research is near flawless. However, the ensemble cast is perhaps something one should look forward to. Geoffrey Rush as the unrelenting speech therapist with an excellent sense of humour is a treat. Helena Bonham Carter as the King’s wife (I would not say queen and you would know why when you watch the film) is marvellous. She shares her husband’s insecurities with so much affection that she almost unknowingly ends up playing a caring mother to a helpless child. The rest of the cast is equally believable.

The King’s Speech is a must watch; it takes you within the walls of the imposing Buckingham Palace and reveals to you the emotional odyssey of a man beyond the grandiloquent mask of Your Highness that he wears and how!