Fodder for actors, Tom Hooper's The King's Speech is an emotional, careful, and noble nod to what has of late become regarded as traditional awards-worthy cinema. No great achievement, the film plots the aided and gradual triumph of an admirable underdog, circumscribed by glitzy and forceful personages of his age. At the center of his circle, under much technique, Colin Firth (last year a solid nominee to Best Actor in film) taps in for a fair par, adding another respectable if unriveting performance to his credible repertoire in the profession. His sparring partner and (in all senses) coach, Geoffrey Rush, plays more admirably and brings a great supersession of humor to his lines that, read by another less nimbly tongued actor, could have fallen much flatter. However, of the adult trio who headlines the banners, Helena Bonham Carter, as the king's wife, is alone extraordinary, imbuing delicacy, empathy, steadfastness, and real charm into every nuance of her time before the lens; rarely than here has she been better.
Following them - somewhat idly - are Mr. Desplat's tidy score, Ms. Stewart and co.'s regally appointed environments, and Ms. Beavan's costumes to match. Remarkable only otherwise the supporting turn of Guy Pearce, it should nevertheless agglomerate further accolades as the "awards' season" rolls on.
Grade: B, fine, good, yes.
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