Anyone who has read my ramblings so far will know that a) I like films, and b) we have a Date Night here once a week where we see a movie, sometimes eat out but always have a little sweet treat to go with it. Tonight it was The King's Speech, the multi-Oscar -nominated Colin Firth film, with Butterkist popcorn. We'd had free tickets to see it right at the start of the year but didn't go for one reason or another and then every time we saw it advertised I kept saying 'Oh, I wish we'd gone to see it when we had the chance'. So this evening we saw it.
This is clearly the Royals as America sees them, despite it being a British film. All cuddly and warm-heartedly egalitarian beneath their stiff upper lips. I can go with it being a true story in as much as King George VI, the Queen Mother (as she became) et al really existed but I'd say that's probably all that's true about it. Some of the scenes between Colin Firth as Bertie, and Geoffrey Rush as his speech therapist were just cringe-making. I'd go so far as to say ludicrous in fact. That's not to say that the performances aren't splendid - they are (despite Helena Bonham-Carter's teeth being far too good for her to really pass as the Queen Mother). It's just that the whole thing is Royalty Lite - Royalty how silly people might like to think they are. Just like us underneath. Well d'oh. For one thing we all know that you can't put a hand on any of them - remember the uproar a few years back when the Prime Minister of Australia, or maybe Canada, put his hand on the Queen's back to usher her along? If they're like that now, what were they like in the 30s?
No, I'm sorry King's Speech. You've disappointed me deeply. Epic fail, as Mr Charming would say. And don't expect too many Oscars....the accents are all wrong.