The King's Speech vs Damage

 

History backs me up on this: he makes the speech. The King in question is George VI, played by Colin Firth. At the start of the movie, George is actually Albert, third in line for the throne, behind his father and brother, Edward (Guy Pearce. Guy Pearce is in this. How does he make so many movies without me knowing? And then he’s always fantastic? Guy Pearce needs his own Oscar category called Most Fantastic Surprise. The winner? Guy Pearce, in He Wasn’t in the Trailer). Third in line is a nice place for Albert, because he prefers a quiet life with his wife (Helena Bonham Carter, wearing zero prosthetics) and daughters, and because public service, particularly public speaking, puts a harsh amplifier up to his near-crippling stammer. His father is soon out of the picture, and Edward takes up with Wallis Simpson (Eve Best. She and Pearce have a blast, and give the movie an odd jolt of warring classes within the royal family. There’s an entire other movie to make out of just these two), making him too controversial for the monarchy. Albert is going to be King, which in 1939 meant public speaking. Very public. Global.

Albert has become complacent with his speech disorder. He lives with it as a burden, and speaks as little as possible. When confronted, say, by a therapist who makes him hold marbles in his mouth, he becomes petulant and defensive. Luckily for him, he’s married to Elizabeth, whom Helena Bonham Carter instills with wit and patience. She’s able to be sympathetic and realistic at the same time. Carter is a gifted actor, and I’m always happy to see her in a movie. But it’s rare for us to get this effective a glimpse at her subtle gifts. No big costumes, no songs, no CGI. Just a good character and a talented actor. Eventually, Elizabeth finds Lionel, an unsuccessful actor who works as a speech therapist. What if he was played by Robin Williams?

Let’s all take a moment and pretend the role of Lionel in The King’s Speech was played by Robin Williams. It’s like the Fringe world where blondes have red hair and diseases have cures…BUT AT A COST.

Lionel is charmingly, wittingly, gracefully (and thankfully) played by Geoffrey Rush. Lionel is unconventional in his approach, in a way. I’m sure some might view him as wacky or unprofessional, but the true manner in which he’s rebellious is that in dealing with royalty, he refuses to bow down, literally. Lionel is in charge of the therapy sessions, and demands respect from Albert. It doesn’t come easily. Lionel wants Albert to talk about his childhood, and about his insecurities about his stammer. Albert would rather just fix his speech in one session and be done with it. Instead, he needs several sessions, full of songs, jumps, rolls, and in the dumbest reason a movie got an R rating this year: swearing. That’s right, parents. King George VI spent some time, pre-throne, saying “bloody”, “bugger”, and brace yourself, “fuck” in speech therapy.

Albert and Lionel become friends, over time, although Albert becomes combative whenever Lionel digs too deep or gets overly casual. Albert has been raised with and for a certain kind of decorum, and won’t broach protocol for friendship. In the film’s best scene, Albert and Lionel argue in a park, walking briskly, while the camera tries to keep up. The more flustered Albert becomes, the clearer his speech, and then when he notices his speech being clear, he clams up again. Lionel knows there’s emotional turmoil at least partly at play in Albert’s condition, but Albert won’t hear it, at first. As their friendship grows, Albert’s confidence level rises, he works harder, and if his stammer doesn’t disappear completely, it does begin to rattle him less when it surfaces. He gets stuck on a word, rocks back on his feet, and tries it again.

The King’s Speech is a smart, inspiring movie. Tom Hooper directs so that everything is authentic in terms of setting, period, costumes (I guess. Come on History, back me up.), but he brings his welcome, more modern eye to each shot. If you’ve seen The Damned United, you’ll recognize one of his signatures: a solitary character low in the frame, in the foreground, with the background—in The King’s Speech it’s often the tacky, rustic walls of Lionel’s workshop—given the most visual interest. It forces your eye to new places of the frame, and when the main character is the smallest thing in the bottom corner, well, Hooper’s got you right where wants you. He directs Colin Firth to yet another great, understated performance. Firth will undoubtedly get to put some of those public speaking tricks to use quite soon.

The King’s Speech might sound a bit like Flawless, in which Phillip Seymour Hoffman is a bawdy cross-dresser who has to teach a bigoted stroke victim Robert DeNiro to speak again. You might have fond memories of it, but trust me: I tried to watch it for this, and could not. First of all: Schumacher.

Watch Damage instead. It also involves protocol and class differences within a family of Brits. And there’s an unconventional relationship at the heart of the story. Damage, though, earns its R rating, by putting its f-bombed money where its mouth is (and its mouth is in a lot of places.). Damage is a weird, somewhat off-putting movie, but it’s so abrasive and dark, it’s a nice closer to The King’s Speech, which is so crowd-pleasing there are actual shots of crowds being pleased.

Jeremy Irons plays Stephen, a government bigshot who meets and flirts with Anna (Juliette Binoche). Stephen is happily, quietly married to Ingrid (Miranda Richardson), who is as smart and tactful as The King’s Speech’s Queen Mum. They have a son, Martyn, who has a new girlfriend, Anna (Juliette Binoche. Uh oh.). Hey, it’s an awkward situation, but they’ll be okay. Stephen and Anna could laugh it off privately, and not tell his son or wife about the minor indiscretion. Or, they could start fucking every chance they get, in increasingly unusual, aggressive ways (they get all Nineties about it, covering each other’s eyes, sucking fingers, flailing around stiff-armed like corpses. This was directed by the great Louis Malle, but dude was watching some Adrian Lynne and Cinemax for inspiration).

Something else happens. I won’t go into it here. Don’t watch the trailer for Damage, because it spoils a huge plot twist. Like The King’s Speech, much of the conflict in Damage arises from a lack of communication. Stephen feels muzzled in his role at home and work, and just won’t come out and say what might make him happy. Anna is a free spirit, troubled and immoral, but free, and Stephen feeds from her like some kind of stuffy vampire. Likewise Miranda Richardson spends the bulk of the movie buttoned-up, not voicing her true opinions or risking an emotional outburst. At one point, she explodes, and like Albert, finds that the words come easier if you aren’t watching your volume.

The King’s Speech: A-

Damage: B