The King's Speech is like the noble, virtuous version of Black Swan's self-centredness. Both movies are about people overcoming performance pressure. Both are almost claustrophobically focused on a very small group of people, and express this with numerous closeups (and while Black Swan's camera trails Nina around like a puppy, The King's Speech's camera regularly stands in for people so that you get the characters looking straight out of the screen at you). Both movies trace the struggles of their protagonist as they are thrust into the limelight (albeit one reluctantly and one with relish). And both show the unconventional means that are needed to break through to a powerful performance. But there the similarities stop.
The differences are more stark. While Black Swan concerns the narcissistic world of ballet and its protagonist's struggle is to become a fawned-over star and "princess", The King's Speech traces a prince's struggle to fulfil his duty to his family and nation despite his desire for obscurity. Unsurprisingly, with goals so morally separated, the means used to achieve them are also morally diverse. Black Swan depicts an obsessive, lonely, self-indulgent and ultimately destructive process leading to its climactic "triumph". The King's Speech, on the other hand depicts an endeavour that involves new friendships, powerful encouragement, humility and ultimately real achievement in service. The two movies are like black and white.
The King's Speech follows Prince Albert/King George VI (Colin Firth) through the beginning of his relationship with Lionel Logue (Geoffery Rush), an Australian speech therapist. "Bertie", as Logue insists on calling him, has struggled with stammering since early childhood. Against her own interests, his wife, Elisabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) encourages him to work on this defect so that he can fulfil his duty as a prince and, in an unexpected and undesired turn of events, as king. Part of Logue's treatment is to treat Bertie as an equal. Rush excels in this role of wry, wise adviser and assistant (and eventually, friend) and deserved an Oscar probably more than Firth did. Of course Firth does an excellent job in his role, too, portraying the prince's slow softening and deep sense of duty with as much facility as one would expect, given his previous roles. Bonham Carter surprises with a well-judged performance as Elisabeth, displaying the wry humour some of us may remember from the Queen Mum. Guy Pierce and Derek Jacobi do well in minor roles as the annoying Edward VIII and Archbishop Lang, and Michael Gambon is as good as usual as King George V (it's genuinely distressing to see him in his confused state just before his death). However, Timothy Spall is slightly grating as Winston Churchill, sounding like someone trying to do an impression rather than providing a convincing characterisation.
The script is well paced, starting and finishing at points in Bertie's life that are appropriately dramatic, but do not feel artificial at all. Sufficient time is given to his family, including the scandal that led to Edward VIII's abdication, and to Logue's family, to make the major characters human. While Black Swan flaunts its artistic sensibilities with its clever mirroring and fantasies, The King's Speech shows real people with real lives. It has heart, and at that heart lies a superbly written script (deserving of its Oscar). There is drama and humour aplenty in the story, but it is all natural and unforced, flowing from the material rather than forced onto it or even worked into it. At its heart, this movie is a buddy story -- the story of two very different men becoming friends in a shared adventure facing shared adversity. Like all stories that build on this theme well, it is both moving and affirming. (I can't help but compare this to Black Swan, in which the trajectory of relationships are all headed in the opposite direction: towards dissolution.)
Technically the film calls little attention to itself, apart from the regular use of closeups and first-person perspective (involving people talking to the screen). There are a few startling, ultra-wideangle shots intended to convey Bertie's intimidation, but perhaps the cleverest technique is the way the film portrays mid-20th century London. Most of the scenes of outdoors London are filmed in heavy fog, thus allowing the producers to expend little effort on dressing up the streets, and allowing the viewer to fill in the gaps themselves, all while avoiding the claustrophobic, small-scale feel of an interior-bound production. Music is used sparingly but well, and the music over the closing credits in liltingly uplifting.
I mentioned at the start that this movie was almost claustrophobically focused on Bertie, however this doesn't prevent large-scale scenes of crowds listening to the king. This is a story about a major public figure, after all. But what this film does, is to humanise that figure. To provide a glimpse into the soul of an ordinary man, thrust into an unusual role, struggling with a common problem in order to fulfil his duty. There is a lot to relate to in this story for everyone. The King's Speech is a movie with plenty of heart. (But, I should point out, it is still a very conventional movie, not to be compared with the true greats like Babe or Breaker Morant.)