God Save the King

Sometimes you want a film to be really good, but when expectations are so inflated, the outcome can turn out to be less than its estimated value. That sort of thing happened to me back in early 2009 when I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I don't think I'd ever before been so ready to embrace a film, to immediately rank it upon my favourite films of all time, only to be disappointed. I felt the film was too prestigious for its own good. It was over-long, too drawn out. All style, luscious cinematography, visually capturing its different time periods, but not really having much heart. To me it cried out 'Oscar-bait'.

So I awaited the release of 2010's The King Speech with some caution. Generally I'm a fan of period dramas, but lavish costumes and art designs can't save a weak story. But it has it turned out, the film was engaging, depicting a moment in history and giving it the royal treatment, so to speak.

The film follows the ascension to the throne by King George VI (played notably by Colin Firth). It isn't the most notable ascension, as George himself notes. After his father passed away, his brother Edward was meant to be the next monarch, but an ill-fitting marriage to twice-divorced Wallis Simpson makes it improper for him to keep his position. So younger brother George, plagued with a speech impediment, gets the throne by default. A little earlier in the film, his wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) had already sent for the eccentric Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), but it is when George becomes king that Logue really becomes of service.

Such a short summary doesn't really get to the heart of the film. It really is somewhat of a parallel journey between two men (Firth and Rush) who forge an unexpected and moving friendship. King George is a man with a self-confidence crisis fuelled by his stammering. I think Firth's performance becomes amazing when you really examine what he does with it. King George shouldn't be the most exciting character, not with his awkward introversion and his temper. Yet Firth, supported by the story arc, taps deeply into George's insecurities and invites us to empathise with them. Here is a man who wants to succeed, with a sense of duty and integrity so lacking in his brother. That added quirk of his character is his self-deprecating dry humor which reveal an insightful, perceptive, sensitive man. Firth's is a performance which adds layers with every scene, and so by the end of a film you feel the enrichment of a complete, whole character with whom you have developed an acquaintance.

Rush is equally effective in his characterisation of Lionel. On the outside he's a peculiar man with non-orthodox techniques of speech therapy that are incredibly effective. Deeper inside he's a man who didn't fufill his full ambitions, and who, as the film progresses, settles his energies on helping the king become the fulfilled man he is capable of being. There's a slight case of living vicariously through another that registers in Rush's performance. But Lionel pushes any subtle hint of this aside, and his unrelenting belief in Firth is inspiring. He holds King George's emotions, just as any good therapist would, and there's one scene in particular where Firth is describing some of his childhood, where a shot of Rush's face shows complete sympathy. It too is a layered performance, and perfectly balanced by the pro that Rush is.

Helena Bonham Carter doesn't have quite as much to work with as Firth or Rush, but still it is nice to see her outside of a Tim Burton film once in a while. Her major asset to the film is the constant support she shows to Firth's King George. She's almost Myrna-Loy-esque wife and mother of the year calibre. There's a genuine classiness, sweetness and assuredness to her role that makes her an ideal balance to her stammering husband.

If I have any qualms about the film, it is with the score than with anything else. While Alexandre Desplat's score is lovely and moving, I couldn't help but feel it was overused and too obvious a ploy for sentiment. I felt some of the scenes had enough strength within the story and performances and didn't need the score overhead. I wouldn't be surprised if this is a minority opinion, but I just felt the score sometimes went against the film. But hey, maybe it wouldn't have been such an emotional experience without it?

As period dramas go, I felt the film was very evocative of its 1930s setting, with the costume and art design being very good. There was a nice piece of cinematography during the king's important wartime speech near the end, in which the king waits for the red buzzer to stop flashing for him to start his speech. Well, rather than turning to the buzzer, the camera stays on Firth's face as the red flashes on and off upon it. I thought that was a pretty effective little touch to the scene.

Overall I really enjoyed this one. The story and performances in particular elevate it from standard period drama to something more inspiring.

Merry Christmas!

An Autobiographical Notice

I haven't been active here since August, except for the occasional lurking [which sounds spooky]. I guess I put it down to writer's block. I've tried a few times to type out something only to resign after a few sentences.

One thing I've been getting hooked on lately is autobiographies. I'd been meaning to start this habit about two or three years ago, but my local library never really had what I wanted to read and I wasn't willing to make blind buys either. So in comes university, and the realisation that I can borrow from other libraries, and well the access to star autobiographies begins.

Self Portrait: Gene Tierney - This was a very interesting read. It solidifies Gene Tierney's intelligence, that she was certainly more than a pretty face. Gene's book has its share of heartbreak, notably being let down by her father, the birth of her first child, marriage failure and then her subsequent breakdowns. I guess such a summary makes it sound like a potboiler of a book, but in truth Gene's story is frank and open, not sensationalised. I find the book is more about her depression than her film career, which isn't a bad thing, because it reaches out to all those out there with mental illnesses. Gene doesn't sound ashamed at what she went through, and her book endorses \better nurture towards mental illness.

Still Gene does explore other elements of her life, including her relationships with Howard Hughes, Prince Aly Kahn and JFK. Out of the actors she worked with, you get the vibe that she found Henry Fonda and Richard Widmark as the most easy to work with. Of her films, she of course mentions Laura in some detail. She had nice things to say about Leave Her to Heaven - I figure it might be the one she's most proud of - and she says words to the liking that Edmond Goulding, the director's confidence in her helped along her performance. I was a tad disappointed to find she didn't think much of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, as I'd rank that among her finest films and performances. It's a minor disappointment as ultimately, the book is compelling and presents an extra domension of Gene outside of her onscreen characters.

The Moon's a Balloon: David Niven - I heard that Gregory Peck couldn't write his autobiography after realising that he could never top Niven's writing skills. Fair enough, after all Niven is indeed one talented writer. His autobiography (first of two memoirs) is thoroughly full of comical anecdotes, all of which are seamlessly put together. There's a bit of sadness though. After the death of his first wife Primmie, there feels a shift in tone and even though Niven finds Hjordis, you can't help but feel the earlier tragedy has marred the rest of his life. Still, Niven got by, probably with more than a little help from friends. He appeared to be one of the most likeable men in Hollywood, and his list of celebrity friends is enviable: Laurence Olivier, Vivien Leigh, Ronald Colman, the Astaires to name a few.

As for Niven's acting career, you get the sense that it had a few bumps along the way. He signed with Samuel Goldwyn in the late 30s, a relationship which built up some friction near the end of it. Some of his films Niven doesn't appear too proud about [he doesn't really talk much at all of late forties and early fifties films, at a time when he was written off as being washed up]. But he seemed happy to have gotten the role of Phileas Fogg, although today Around the World in 80 Days is seen as one of the worst Best Picture winners. Of course the icing on the cake is his win for Separate Tables, but if I remember correctly he seemed modest about it and felt that the screenplay was actor-proof, that it was impossible to stuff it up.

It's a great read, very difficult to put down at times. I look forward to Bring on the Empty Horses.

Life's a Banquet: Rosalind Russell - A very good read, and Rosalind keeps it somewhat light, never going into detail about her battle with cancer. The book lives up to the title, and Roz seems like the kind of person who seizes the day. It's evident that she's a go-getter from the beginning of her story, detailing lengths she'd go to stand out, and then of her embarkment towards an acting career. She speaks of how after a string of 'Lady Mary' roles - where she momentarily stole Gable or Powell from Harlow or Loy - she graduated to dramatic leading ladies, and then stepped out as a comedienne. Her time spent with great directors like George Cukor and Howard Hawks is great to read for gaining insight into their working habits.

The book turns a leaf when Roz meets future husband Freddie Brisson, who on board a ship to America saw that Roz's Sylvia Fowler from The Women was playing almost everywhere, thinking in his head that he'd either murder or marry that woman. They turned out to have one of Hollywood's more successful marriages.

The book is full of little funny scenarios, similar to Niven's book, and it's interesting hearing Roz brush shoulders with several people through it. One of the highlight, if not my favourite moment, is when Freddie and Roz plan on having a 25th anniversary, but don't want to have too big a celebration, because somebody always gets left out. Well Frank Sinatra, one of their friends, takes it into his hands to organise the anniversary. It is settled that there will be 25 guests, including the Sinatras, the Dean Martins and the Cary Grants among others. Roz recalls it as one great night that nobody involved would ever likely forget.

Rochefort, Aspic and the Bourgeoisie

Yet another segment of brief and fleeting film reviews.

Les demoiselles de Rochefort (1967) - This is my second Jacques Demy film after Les parapluies de Cherbourg. If two films by the same director could be any different from each other, this is it. In saying that, they're still both clearly Demy films. They're both colourful in their ways, they both star Catherine Deneuve, they both feature music by Michel Legrand - indeed both are musicals. The difference is one is melancholy (and set in winter), while the other has yards of joie-de-vivre, and definitely evokes late spring/early summertime. For its sheer mirth and optimism, I'll take Les demoiselles de Rochefort.


A Dandy in Aspic (1968) - I'll watch practically anything of Mia Farrow's early work, so I was quite happy to get a hold of this film. Needless to say, waif-like late 60s mod girl Farrow's acting is not really tested here, she'd have to wait till Rosemary's Baby - her next feature - for that. What is here is an interesting late entry into the 60s spy/espionage craze. It's directed by Anthony Mann (Winchester '73), except he unfortunately passed away during filming. This might explain the strange post-production choices such as fast zoom ins and loud, booming voice echoes that are supposed to reflect the protagonist's (Laurence Harvey) dishevelled consciousness. Though the techniques come off unsubtle - even unintentionally comedic - I guess they go a long way in shaping the film's often bizarre atmosphere. It's a confusing, at times hard to follow film, but it's most watchable.

Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie (1972) - I really like this film's title (among other things) because it sounds quite rhythmic. The film was written and directed by Luis Bunuel, which should be enough said. It's, in other words, often surreal. Similar to Belle de jour, it's hard to distinguish between what's meant to be 'real' about the narrative and what isn't. Pervading the film is the fears, desires and plain ennui of a small band of bourgeois friends during a series of dinner dates. It doesn't all make sense at all times, but I suspect Bunuel doesn't want the viewer to simply come away with a full understanding. That is to say, a little - or a lot - of uncertainty goes a way in keeping one interested in the film. Or frustrated with it. But certainly engaged with it.

it's heaven

Back on blog duty...couldn't tell for how long though.
I thought I'd do some re-capping of film venturing and discovering.

Some news from real life before entering the reels: I'm currently volunteering at acmi, which hosts film exhibitions (currently a Tim Burton-themed one) and screenings, every Friday. It's more fun than work, I'll admit, and time flies while there. Volunteers mostly greet visitors and inform them of what acmi has to offer, and it's been unexpectedly enjoyable for me. It definitely takes me away from my comfortable, solitary zone.

Otherwise things have been fairly ordinary for me this winter break. Next week I return to university in the haven of film, television, literature and human rights. Hodge-podge of subjects - what can it be but an arts degree.

But for the moment I'll take a detour to distraction. I'll talk movies. Here's a summary of some that have chanced my way in the last two or so months:

Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell in a Borzage World ~ actually the title - or titles - of the films are Seventh Heaven (1927), Street Angel (1928) and Lucky Star (1929). Before coming across Gaynor and Farrell, I thought I'd already seen the final word in screen couple chemistry with Fred and Ginger and Bill and Myrna. But no, before either of those couples, there was the romance, idealism and youth of Janet and Charles. Two beautiful looking late silent era stars who seemed ardently in love when paired opposite each other. With a drought in good modern day romances (well I think so), it's wise to take oneself back to the late 1920s and see Borzage give love its fervent due.

Belle de jour ~ an example of blending the real and surreal in a lavish, bourgeois world. Or something akin to that. Catherine Deneuve equals her neurotic ice blonde from Repulsion, only this time her character puts her demons to a test rather than recoils from them. The result is a strange, somewhat disturbing film wrapped in exquisite colour and set designs.

On the Road with Hope and Crosby ~ I've seen my first four 'Road' movies with Bing Crosby, Bob Hope and Dorothy Lamour. The first two - Singapore and Zanzibar - are really just warm-ups as the trio find their footing (still, the second one has that added bonus of Una Merkel), but with Morocco and Utopia, the laughs really start coming. Crosby and Hope have a great rapport and it's fun witnessing them trade good-natured insults to one another. Theirs might just be the ultimate 'buddy' films.