THE KING'S SPEECH (2010)

Oscars. That's what everyone is saying whenever this film is brought up. Some are even saying its a sure fire winner, playing the Royal Card - the Yanks love a film about the Royal family. I've had some bad experiences over the years though when seeing films that have Oscar hopes (Titanic for example), so I wasn't sure how this would sit with me.......

So I made my way down to the lunchtime showing at the Richmond Curzon (staggeringly good value at £5 per ticket with my membership) to see what all the fuss is about.



I can tell you that they are all spot on. And the some. Everyone who says this film is great, every critic who says Colin Firth is brilliant in this, every punter on the street who says it moved them to tears throughout, they're all right. The truth is that all the hype still didn't prepare me for how good this film is.

At the centre of it are two mesmerising performances, Colin Firth as George VI (getting the majority of the plaudits) and Geoffrey Rush as Lionel Logue, a speech therapist enlisted to help the Duke of York overcome a debilitating stammer. Firth's George is riddled with insecurities, deeply introverted with a lack of confidence that stems from his condition. His depiction of a stammerer is so convincing, it's incredible, with it only really surfacing when nervous and under pressure. Whilst relaxed with family, it barely surfaces - a nice touch that adds to the teetering, fragile personality of George.  Logue is the opposite. Charming, sure of himself, over familiar with his regal patient. Their evolving relationship is very much at the heart of the film, the historically significant issues of war and abdication become subplots as the friendship blossoms and the future king becomes more dependant on Logue (similar in this respect to the director Tom Hooper's last film, The Damned United with Brian Clough and Peter Taylor's relationship being vital). It's an absolute pleasure to see two such fine actors up against each other in so many scenes, at times battling each other, at others complimenting one another. A real masterclass. Like Federer v Nadal.

The two leads are supported more than ably by a stellar cast that help push the film into the 'special' realm. Helena Bonham-Carter (a joy to see her in something that isn't either a Potter film or directed by her husband) is great as George's wife Elizabeth (who many would know as the Queen Mother). She is a pillar of strength to her husband's vulnerability but is also mischievous with a cheeky sense of humour. You can tell from her looks at George that she is really in love with him and every stammer that he makes is like a jolt of pain on a nerve to her. Guy Pearce as King Edward VIII is perfectly suited as the playboy King (dare one suggest that he is a possibility of what might occur if Prince Harry was made up). Michael Gambon is excellent in his few scenes as George V, throwing gravitas around as King and father. Timothy Spall turns in brilliant show as Winton Churchill, all be it a slightly hammed up version. Derek Jacobi as the Archbishop, conservative and straight, but compelling with it. It just goes on and on. On paper the strength in depth of the cast is astounding but on screen it's ten times better.

The tone of the film was far from what I expected as well. The subject and the cast would suggest a typical British period piece, perhaps suited to the small screen better, however we are treated to a proper cinematic film. Tom Hooper really makes this feel like a proper film and has not let normal expectations hold him back. Sweeping montages, epic camera shots, moody London streets. Special mention must go to how he shows how daunting the prospect of public speaking is to George VI - a first person view where spectators and crowds seem huge, towering over the microphone at the forefront of the screen. You are with George, and you too are overawed.

It's a comedy too. Not in a Jane Austen, chortle kind of way, but proper comedy. There are some hilarious moments of banter between George VI and Logue, confident one liners from the latter, self-deprecating humour from the former. There are some nice, subtle jokes about out of touch Royals, Elizabeth trying to figure out how to use a lift for example, and  Hooper and the writer David Seidler (barely a noticeable credit to his name before this) get real mileage out of the remarkable situation, the King being so dependant on an average speech therapist.

For every laugh though, there is a lump in the throat. It's not just a touching finale, as is so often the case these days. I honestly can't remember the last time that I was so moved, so many times during a trip to the flicks.

I can't recommend this film enough, everything about it is top class, acting, writing, direction, it's pitched absolutely perfectly. Then you consider that it is about one of the most amazing stories in the history of our country and it becomes utterly unmissable.

We have yet to see what the film and it's stars will be up against when it comes to Oscar night, but if something beats this film, Firth and Rush (what a battle that could/should be) to the gong, it will be a hell of a movie or performance.

The best film I have seen in a long, long while.

BRIDGET JONES' DIARY (2001)

Saturday night in, snow causing chaos on the streets outside, red wine flowing, my mind numbed by the trash that is ITV's Take Me Out to the point where any sort of decision could cause me to spontaneously combust so the easiest thing to do is just to leave the channel unchanged. And that is how I came to be watching Bridget Jones' Diary.



One of those literary phenomenons where every single person on any mode of transport seems to be reading the same book (other examples include Harry Potter, Stieg Larsson, The Da Vinci Code and The Time Traveller's Wife), Helen Fielding's memoir of a 32 year old singleton, desperate to improve herself and to meet the right man, seemed to grip women of all ages. A film adaptation was inevitable. Fielding stayed on writing credits with the assistance of British rom-com stalwart Richard Curtis. Dependable leading men Colin Firth and Hugh Grant came on board, with the slightly unusual, but safe, choice of Texan Renee Zellweger as the title character. Everything is in place.

Jones herself is a familiar character to all of us of a certain age. Early thirties, drinks a lot on school nights, smokes, dates the wrong men, in a job she doesn't really enjoy but does it to get by. No wonder it struck a chord with so many people, Fielding had tapped into a nation's frustrations and insecurities with Jones being a steady personification. She is bored of being set up with bad men by her mother (desperate to live her life vicariously through Jones), such as Mark Darcy (Colin Firth). She betrays her new years resolution to meet a nice sensible man, by shacking up with Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), her womanising boss at the publishing company she works. Needless to say, as with all rom coms, things don't go as well as they might.

Now, I must lay down my marker. I'm not a rom-com fan. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Having said that, the Brits do it far better than our American cousins. Pretty Woman is the only decent one from across the pond that springs to mind, but I could easily watch Four Weddings, Notting Hill and About a Boy to pass the time. Bridget Jones just about manages to fall into that category.  But only just. There are one or two funny moments, it's predictable to a point, but it doesn't exactly conform to the usual plot points - Boy meets girl, girl falls for boy, girl and boy argue, boy and girl make up and live happily ever after. The characters are charming, their clumsy British eccentricities make you side with them.

However, I can't help feeling that it's all a bit fluffy, like scatter cushions, all for show.....all of the above Hugh Grant vehicles make me cry. This didn't come close. Even with the always excellent Jim Broadbent heading up the sub-plot geared to generate the tears.

It ticks the boxes though. Hugh Grant doing what he always does, but enjoying himself as the bad guy for a change, Colin Firth criminally underused and clearly going through the motions, only Zellweger looks as though she's really trying, and likeable she is for it. It's watchable enough, you don't get bored, but you also aren't really invested in it either.

I've not read the book, but I can't help but imagine that this is the adaptation equivalent of Watchmen - a decent job, but hollow and lacking the soul of the source material. Ultimately it should have been better. Having said that, lots of women I know are quite fond of the film, so it must have done something right. Not for me though.

Amusingly bland.