The Staircase (2022) s01e08 – America’s Sweetheart or: Time Over Time

“The Staircase” finishes with some highs and lows. It’s got Odessa Young’s best acting in the series and some truly phenomenal work from Toni Collette. Young’s gets to be less problematic than Collette’s, as show creator, episode director, and credited writer Antonio Campos gives Collette a hackneyed final scene. It should be series-best work from Sophie Turner, but it’s not. She’s just okay, which is better than poor Rosemarie DeWitt. DeWitt sat around the whole show with nothing until now, and here she gets a bad wig and flat characterization.

It also ought to be Juliette Binoche’s best episode. It’s not. The show spent the latter half of the episodes setting Binoche up to be some kind of protagonist, only to make her another rube. “The Staircase” treats the audience as rubes; might as well treat its subjects the same way.

The episode does not have three or four possible reenactments of Colin Firth killing Collette, though it heavily builds toward the “truth” at the end. Except it turns out it showed its take a long time ago and then spent six or seven episodes saying it didn’t. There’s only one red herring, which the opening scene establishes, and then waiting the whole episode to see if it’s relevant.

There’s a lot with the kids, only not when it’s important. The episode splits between 2011, when Firth gets out of prison for a retrial, then 2017, when Firth’s giving his Alford plea to resolve that retrial. There’s nothing in between because it would give away the ending. Or at least make the conclusion less of a “surprise.”

Some of the best material in the episode—outside Collette’s final day or two (her white-collar business suspense story’s much more compelling, thanks to Collette, than anything else in “Staircase”)—is Young and Turner finally having their big sister moment.

Sure, they’ve been putting a pin in it for ten plus years, but it’s the closest thing to pay-off. Campos narratively cheaps out on everything else, including Patrick Schwarzenegger’s internal collapse as Firth no longer loves him the most and shuns him, in fact, in favor of previous screw-up Dane DeHaan.

Unfortunately, Campos does a terrible job directing Young and Turner’s scene—maybe his worst work in the episode, which is saying a lot.

Michael Stuhlbarg is around for the courtroom scenes. We find out he’s a rube, too, but it wouldn’t matter because he’s an, at best, amoral lawyer. Tim Guinee might not even get any lines.

But the real kicker to “The Staircase,” after the ending they lifted from “Daredevil,” is the reality. I intentionally didn’t look up the case, but the real guy is not a vaguely debonair, Southern gentleman on the spectrum Colin Firth type… he’s got the style of a used car salesman, and his vibe appears to be Kramer impersonating.

Changes the “based on a true story” thing, even as the episode reveals just how much of the show has been pure, exploitative supposition on Campos’s part.

Even before that Googling, however, Firth’s performance takes a real hit. He doesn’t land any of his scenes this episode, which makes sense because they’re waiting for the big reveal, but still.

Just like I’d worried from the start, it’s an outstanding Collette performance in an otherwise deficient production.

They haven’t created the awards she deserves for believably laughing at America’s Sweethearts.

The Staircase (2022) s01e07 – Seek and Ye Shall

Okay, so Toni Collette’s work subplot and the bat infestation in the attic have gone unaddressed to this point because they figure into the eventual motive. One of the reasons I didn’t have any interest in “The Staircase” was Collette playing the victim; it meant all her acting would be for naught. Almost to the end of the series, watching her go through the entire arc—I’m sure the final episode will have a “but what really happened was” sequence with Tim Curry narrating (or at least it should)—I was right. It’s a shitty, exploited part. Might get her an Emmy, hope it gets her an Emmy, but it’s a bad part.

Speaking of bad parts, the show does a last-minute reprieve on Parker Posey. There’s a red herring investigation from an innocence project, led by a good Deja Dee, but it’s clear it’s a red herring, so there’s only so much. She interviews Posey about corruption in the DA’s office and the “independent” investigation agency. We find out Posey only got into the prosecution racket after defending too many abusive men. It doesn’t address Posey being a bigot, but it does give her character more depth than… well, almost any other character on the show.

This episode’s main plot involves Juliette Binoche’s latest attempt to clear Firth’s name. The owl thing went nowhere and was just a fun way to burn an episode. She accidentally (or mysteriously) gets emailed an autopsy where the victim has the same wounds as Collette had ten years earlier and does a fake interview with cop Cory Scott Allen. It’s a good episode for Allen, who was barely in the first one but is one of the better performances. It leads to Binoche discovering Firth had affairs with lots of dudes while married to Collette, which somehow escaped her notice from the documentary she edited, including when she rewatches the raw footage of it.

It’s never been addressed before, so it seems late, and it makes Binoche’s character weaker, but then there’s no actual dramatic weight to it because the 2017 scenes—six years later—establish she’s still with Firth, so it wasn’t a big deal, after all. The show’s subtitle could be: “It Wasn’t a Big Deal, After All.”

There’s not much with the kids. In the 2017 scenes, Michael Stuhlbarg low-key gives Firth shit about his kids abandoning him. In 2011, Sophie Turner is now divorced and sad. Odessa Young is content, but Turner doesn’t believe it. There’s the strong implication Young’s never come out to any of her family. She goes to Germany to see her real mom’s place of death, visiting an again excellent Trini Alvarado, then hearing the whole story about Firth beating her as a kid from former babysitter Monika Gossmann. The last time Gossmann was on “Staircase,” it characterized her as an opportunistic liar. This time she’s a truth sayer. Whatever.

The real kick of the scene is it means Turner never told Young all the shit she found out about Firth before Collette died.

Boys Dale DeHaan and Patrick Schwarzenegger only come back for the finale montage, which is hilariously bad and made me feel better about crap-mouthing Antonio Campos’s direction. Campos is real, real bad.

I feel like “Staircase” can’t do only one more “did he or didn’t he” sequence for its final episode next time, and two would be underselling it, so maybe three?

Hopefully, it’ll get Collette (and Firth, though he’s not particularly good this episode due to material) better parts.

The Staircase (2022) s01e06 – Red in Tooth and Claw

If someone wanted to take the time—and I’m not suggesting it—analyzing “The Staircase” ’s moving thesis about subject Michael Peterson (Colin Firth in his future Emmy-winning performance, not undeservedly) as the series progresses might be interesting. This episode’s where the show wants viewers to feel bad for ever thinking Firth could’ve killed Toni Collette, even as it continues to reveal his petty, malicious parenting style, particularly to his adopted daughters. Just because Firth’s an asshole doesn’t make him a murderer; also, we spent four episodes trying real hard to convince you not to trust him.

This episode might be the first where no one calls Firth a liar, though son Dale DeHaan does talk about his untrustworthy nature. He and Patrick Schwarzenegger are having a chat in flashback about Firth cheating on first mom Trini Alvarado (who was delightful and isn’t back) with Collette, then hitting Alvarado up for money ever since. We also find out he wanted to give away one of the adopted daughters for having panic attacks.

Of course, since the show’s now through Juliette Binoche’s intrepid documentary editor turned freedom fighter’s perspective, Firth’s a tragic hero. It’s tonally all over the place; the show missed an opportunity to style Binoche after Joan of Arc, as she gives up her own life to save Firth’s while his family’s off doing their things. Lots of reveals in the various family visits to Firth in prison, with that part of the story taking place just after he’s lost his third appeal.

And it turns out Michael Stuhlbarg, in a competent but utterly phoned-in performance (it’s also the writing), wasn’t willing to do a lot of old-age makeup, so I think part of his beard gets grayer. Not sure he’s committed enough for an Emmy.

The main plot is Binoche and neighbor Joel McKinnon Miller coming up with the most likely, although most absurd sounding, explanation for Collette’s death. It’s a “stranger than fiction” solution and reasonably well-executed, but once they introduce the idea, it’s obvious it will pan out. Moreover, the close-to-present material—Firth about to plead manslaughter and get out on time served in 2017—heavily implies it.

Though, given it’s “The Staircase,” I suppose it could be another red herring. I’m not sure how they’re going to get another two episodes out of the story. I guess I could Google, but no.

The episode’s script credit is Emily Kaczmarek, who co-wrote one of the better previous episodes, so I’m guessing it’s her co-writer. Leigh Janiak directs. At least it’s not Antonio Campos. The most amusing manipulation bit this episode, other than the entire 2017 framing, is how the show wants to demonize Schwarzenegger and DeHaan simultaneously to juxtapose redemptions, but it’s set five years apart. DeHaan used to be a cheater but got his act together after dad Firth went to prison. Schwarzenegger… used to be a more functional alcoholic than after his dad went to prison and is now struggling.

Collette gets a slightly demonizing flashback subplot about being shitty to sister Rosemarie DeWitt on Thanksgiving. It’s notable primarily because it’s the only time the show’s been disparaging of Collette’s character, but also because I’d forgotten DeWitt was even on the show, she’s so immaterial to it. It’d be nice if prestige shows cared about the finished product as much as the casting announcements.

The Staircase (2022) s01e05 – The Beating Heart

So, the present action of “The Staircase”—minus Colin Firth flashing back to being a kid with a shitty dad so he could grow into a shitty dad himself—starts in fall 2001 and goes to 2017. This episode begins in 2004 when Firth’s character has been in prison for six months. Meaning the trial took more than a year. The show did a terrible job with the passage of time on it; it’s possibly the worst thing the show’s done, and it’s had some lows.

Amusingly, the kids get together in this episode and talk about the awkward passage of time; how it hasn’t been so long. Sophie Turner once again has to acknowledge neither Patrick Schwarzenegger nor Dane DeHaan care that Toni Collette is dead; the real question is, are Firth and sons sociopaths or just narcissists. If it were a better show, I’d say the time acknowledgment was intentional.

It is not a better show.

Though this episode’s definitely one of the stronger ones, again with a script credit to Craig Shilowich, whose episodes have been much better than show creator Antonio Campos. Who also doesn’t direct (he did the previous episodes); instead, it’s Leigh Janiak. So maybe less Campos means better “Staircase.”

Besides the kids selling off the house to pay for Firth’s appeals, the documentarians are the significant subplot. Producer Frank Feys wants the documentary to accurately represent the trial from the jury’s perspective; editor Juliette Binoche (who’s having her letter-writing friendship with Firth now) and director Vincent Vermignon want to emphasize Firth’s possible innocence. As a result, there are numerous pointless scenes about it, setting up Feys as an asshole.

Not sure a show entirely based on manipulative storytelling should get meta about manipulative storytelling.

Firth in prison is the main “present-day” plot. He’s in somewhat constant danger and more sympathetic than ever, since he’s got Neo-Nazi meth heads out to kill him. He also confirms he voted for Gore (meaning he’s not racist), which they could’ve established earlier.

Speaking of elections and manipulative storytelling, the episode reveals Firth lost his mayoral election in a landslide, making the first episode’s implication the establishment framed him because he was pushing them out a little much. Never look back, I guess.

In that vein, Toni Collette’s flashbacks are all about Firth being a piece of shit to Turner and nothing about the bats. They have a dinner party scene where he’s a controlling prick, but more interesting, it introduces friends who never appear again.

It’s scary this episode’s so much better than usual. It’s also got the least Michael Stuhlbarg; correlation doesn’t mean causation, but… it’s got the least Stuhlbarg.

Probably Firth’s best acting in the series. He’s outstanding.

And DeHaan finally gets some material, and he’s not very good; not sure why I was expecting him to be any good. But, then again, the material’s wanting.

Whatever.

The Staircase (2022) s01e04 – Common Sense

The episode begins in the near present with Colin Firth and presumably new wife Juliette Binoche headed off to court. “Staircase” isn’t ready to tell us what Firth’s up to in 2017, so the documentarians take Binoche aside for an interview on this momentous day. Throughout the episode, her monologuing for the interview about justice, fate, and the whole damn thing relevantly accompany various scenes, usually to good effect.

I’m about to trash this episode, but outside the profoundly deceptive plotting, the script’s probably the series’s strongest (credited to Emily Kaczmarek and Craig Shilowich).

The episode’s the trial episode, where we discover every single red herring the show’s been dangling about the case is bupkis. At best, it’s a fantastic example of what reasonable doubt means. Except there’s not much best to it.

It’s also the episode where Michael Stuhlbarg is clearly bad casting. He’s not bad. But he’s just doing a Ron Silver in Reversal of Fortune bit. Or a Dennis Boutsikaris in a Ron Silver part. The show’s already got a bunch of workhorse actors who never get to flex outside the lines—Tim Guinee, for example, though Parker Posey’s bigot isn’t any deeper—and Stuhlbarg’s just one too many. He’s never anywhere near bad; he’s just entirely pointless.

He does get to participate in the episode’s “misogyny’s okay if you think the lady’s bad” moment, which is just another disappointment for the list.

There’s very little Toni Collette this episode; the bat problem’s unresolved (Firth’s still not interested), and then she’s got a scene telling step-son Dale Dehaan he’s a screw-up. Dehaan’s yet another disappointment. Not bad, but I wasn’t expecting Patrick Schwarzenegger to act loops around him. “Staircase” isn’t paying off for its supporting cast like I’d assumed. They’re just in it for the prestige value, not because their parts need acting.

HBO gonna HBO, I guess. But, in this case, it’s even more appropriate it’s HBO Max because they’re not getting anything.

Collette and Firth do get a long take acting marathon to get through; Dog Day it ain’t, but they’re able to do it. Wish they were in a better project together.

Also in the background is Odessa Young getting more suspicious of dad Firth and Firth giving her every reason to keep getting suspicious and everyone else pretending he’s not. Eventually, her sister sister Sophie Turner starts down the suspicion path, but it might just be because she’s biphobic. Still, it lets Turner show a little more personality. Finally.

Then the final reveal is another humdinger of “you’ve been hiding this detail for the halfway point to manipulate.” It’d be nice for one of these shows to have confidence in their actual dramatic writing and not just their Shyamalan-lite twist reveals.

The show still hasn’t Westworlded, so I guess I should be happy.

It is, however, the most sympathetic Firth’s ever been on the show. Outside when he’s bullying and gaslighting.

The Staircase (2022) s01e03 – The Great Dissembler

This episode’s mostly about Colin Firth’s sex life. Assistant district attorney Parker Posey’s determined to expose Firth as a practicing bisexual, pursuing past partners, and so on. But it’s not just Posey’s even too bigot-y for 2001 North Carolina investigation; the episode focuses on it from Firth’s perspective too. While wife Toni Collette is stressing out from work or whatever, Firth is setting up rendezvouses. He gets her a massage, then heads to the adult video arcade, bringing home a DVD from Blockbuster when he’s done.

I’m curious about the accuracy of the rental format.

But the episode’s also about daughter Odessa Young having a girlfriend at college and not wanting to tell the family. Finally, it’s about Patrick Schwarzenegger, maybe possibly liking guys, with director Antonio Campos going overboard on the visual innuendo. Lots of love, lust, and sex on display in this episode. Lawyer Michael Stuhlbarg even addresses it, telling Firth he’s got marriage problems.

The episode does a bunch of stops and starts—this person’s testifying, wait, they’re not, this person’s coming out, wait, they’re not, over and over again. Credited to Campos, the script is just one red herring after another. Sometimes something’s suspicious because it lacks historical context, sometimes it’s because of the presentation, sometimes it’s suspicious. There’s an actually engaging scene where Tim Guinee, playing Firth’s brother, confronts him about his sexual indiscretions, calling Firth on the lies.

Even though Firth’s doing a lot this episode—with a whole lot of people—he’s playing an avatar, not a person. He’s a function of “The Staircase,” nothing more. There’s good acting, to be sure, but it’s disingenuous stuff.

Collette’s momentarily got a suspicion plot point, but then it turns out to be nothing. Just like when she heard the creepy noises upstairs last episode. They’re just bats. It’s a big problem, and it’s just going to worsen. Firth’s not concerned about it, though, because sons Schwarzenegger and Dale Dehaan (who doesn’t appear in this episode, just gets the mention) need money. Ex-wife Trini Alvarado doesn’t want to get another mortgage to help them out. Firth can’t do it because, despite his bravado, Collette signs the checks, and she’s almost out of a job.

Or not. Collette’s work subplot isn’t actually important. It’s a bummer she’s in this show so little.

There’s a big plot twist in the last twenty minutes—all these episodes run just over an hour; I guess streaming shows are just embracing possibly unadvisable verbosity—and they do a bunch to set it up for next time.

Alvarado’s great, it’s some of Guinee’s best acting on the show, and the kids are good. Schwarzenegger’s a controlling asshole, mimicking how dad Firth and lawyer Stuhlbarg strong-arm the girls, Young and Sophie Turner, but it’s far from unrealistic. The bullying is effortlessly authentic.

The episode’s got its moments, but they’re rarities amongst the red herrings swimming in circles.

The Staircase (2022) s01e02 – Chiroptera

So the person who looks the most like Rosemarie DeWitt but can’t be Rosemarie DeWitt is Sophie Turner. I then thought Maria Dizzia was Rosemarie DeWitt, but no, also not Rosemarie DeWitt. This episode of “The Staircase” has opening titles, which the first episode did not, and they’re a who’s who of actors I hadn’t recognized. At least, you know, Rosemarie DeWitt (she’s got blonde hair, sorry).

Also, apparently, Trini Alvarado’s going to be in the show. I think I know who she’s playing in this episode, but I also could be wrong. I’ll find out next time, which seems to be the theme.

DeWitt and Dizzia play Toni Collette’s sisters, who district attorneys Cullen Moss and Parker Posey pretty quickly convince was murdered. By husband Colin Firth, who says things like, “we’ve got to keep everyone’s story straight,” and totally innocent stuff along those lines. They’re not in the episode much because they’re avoiding him, obviously, as Moss tries to shave off family member support. It’s not hard; he and Posey are going to release Collette’s autopsy photos (they’re public domain, nothing to be done about it) and give wary family members the heads up. In this episode, they’re going after daughter Olivia DeJonge, who’s Collette’s biological daughter. The show still hasn’t laid out whatever Brady Bunch plus adopting orphans situation is going on, but DeJonge’s getting suspicious and sick of step-brother Patrick Schwarzenegger’s weak excuses for Firth’s exceptionally suspicious story.

DeWitt gets the really big “eureka” moment at the end, though.

This episode drops another giant truth bomb—Firth’s bisexual and having an affair (which he lies to everyone about after the murder) with some guy we haven’t met yet. He leaves it up to brother Tim Guinee to tell his kids he’s gay, raising the “is he guilty or just socially awkward” question. Complicating matters… did Collette know he was bi? He says, yes, and she was fine with it, while everyone else is kind of like, we’re North Carolina white Republicans, no way she was fine with it. When Posey’s pressing people, no one argues with her assessment: Collette would’ve been mortified. So Firth might be the bad guy, but he’s being vilified for bigot reasons.

And the evidence he smashed Collette’s head into a wall over and over, which defense attorney Michael Stuhlbarg’s team can only explain if Collette took a tumble down the stairs and slipped and slid in her blood for a long time. It’s an exceptionally rough sequence, punctuated by the team acknowledging they left out a bunch of other wounds she couldn’t have gotten except from someone attacking her.

Firth’s also being really suspicious with defense attorney Stuhlbarg, who shares a lot of knowing looks with his team. Even more alarming is when the French documentarians who come to town to tell his story can’t get him not to act incredibly guilty in interviews.

Collette—in the flashbacks, obviously—gets a lot more to do this episode and is excellent. Firth’s entirely suspicious now (and sometimes for the wrong reasons), which seems like it will limit his potential. DeJonge’s pretty good as the current canary in the coal mine, but the episode heavily implies her siblings are starting to question Firth too. Again, not for great reasons.

“Staircase” is compelling (manipulatively—I wonder how the show would play if they laid it out start to finish instead of the time jumps for effect) and well-acted.

The Staircase (2022) s01e01 – 911

I don't know anything about the actual "Staircase" case. My wife offered to tell me, and I said I'll wait until after the show; the only information I did get was the parents at the center of the story—Colin Firth and Toni Collette—adopted orphaned neighbor kids, which doesn't seem to matter yet. This episode quickly introduces the family—two parents, five kids, no pets—in an Ordinary People-esque montage where we find out son Dane DeHaan has a troubled history they don't talk about, and daughter Olivia DeJonge is jealous of at least one of her (presumably adoptive) siblings.

The episode—and presumably the series—uses a fractured narrative device to reveal various things about the case and the family, including how 9/11 will figure into the story. While the episode starts with old man makeup Firth putting on a tie nearer the present (2017), the main action occurs in fall 2001. Firth and Collette are sending youngest daughter Odessa Young off to college (here's where DeJonge's jealous), then later—after multiple flash aheads—Collette hurts herself at their empty nesters' party. Instead of being worried about her at the hospital, Firth mansplains 9/11 to her.

Because it's based on a true story, "The Staircase" is about whether Firth killed Collette one night in December 2001 or if she really did just get drunk and fall down a treacherous staircase in their Durham, North Carolina home. Shockingly good Patrick Schwarzenegger gets home from a Christmas party to find the cops all over and Firth freaking out. Schwarzenegger immediately believes Firth's story, though the cops are already talking about how Collette'd been long dead before Firth's 911 call (hence the episode title), where he says she's still alive.

The episode will then be Firth acting exceptionally mysterious and guilty, even before the episode reveals he's having an affair, even before we find out he lied in a mayoral campaign about getting a Purple Heart in Vietnam. There's the additional problem Firth's playing a Southern white guy and is immediately believable as a wife-killer. Hell, his lawyer brother Tim Guinee seems like he could've killed his wife, ditto district attorney with a vendetta (writer Firth is nasty to the cops in his newspaper column) Cullen Moss, ditto Firth's own defense attorney Michael Stuhlbarg, who's a Yankee transplant.

But Firth's excellent. Collette's really good too, but she doesn't get anywhere near as much, which is why I was really hoping she wouldn't be the victim. Instead, it's all about Firth straddling awkward and murderous.

The supporting cast is all good, with Parker Posey coming in at the end to knock it out of the park as a member of the D.A.'s team. Guinee's rote but okay; he's mostly just there for exposition dumps about how it's got to be a witch-hunt and to introduce Stuhlbarg to the plot.

The direction from Antonio Campos is fine. The draw's the large cast, who seem like they'll all eventually get more to do as the series progresses.

The King’s Speech (2010, Tom Hooper)

There’s a lot of fine direction in The King’s Speech. Hooper does exceedingly well when he’s showcasing lead Colin Firth’s acting or showing how Firth, who starts the film as Duke of York and ends it King of England, moves through the world as this sheltered, unawares babe. Of sorts. These successful sequences would stand out even if there weren’t Hooper’s really, really, really questionable distorted camera lens thing he does when he’s trying to show how uncomfortable Firth feels existing with his stammer. The film’s about how Firth, as the man who would be King George VI, gets help with his stammer leading up to him becoming the king as well as the country going to war with Germany. There’s a prologue set in the mid-twenties, the first time Firth has a public speaking engagement—in addition to everything going on with Firth’s complicated ascension to the throne, the Nazis coming to power, there’s also the radio revolution (David Seidler’s script does bite off a lot to chew)—with most of the film set in the middle thirties, as Firth starts working with speech therapist Geoffrey Rush.

The film gets a lot of humor playing Firth and Rush off one another. Rush is this patient, thoughtful, compassionate guy while Firth’s prince (most of the film occurs before he’s king) is sullen, quick-tempered, but incredibly gentle-hearted. Rush’s Australian doesn’t go in for the pomp and circumstance when it comes to treating royals, whereas Firth doesn’t have any idea how to interact with anyone not breaking their back coddling him. The film’s already established Firth’s gentle nature—with this devastating scene (for Firth anyway) where he tells his daughters a story, working his way through his stammer, the frustration and regret and adoration all over his face. Firth’s performance is magnificent. Rush’s great and all—so’s Helena Bonham Carter as Firth’s wife—but Seidler doesn’t give them great parts. Firth doesn’t even have a great part. He just gets to have this great performance. Speech is all about the change in Firth’s character and the resulting development of the performance. It’s all about the acting, even if the part itself is fairly thin. Yes, he gets to show vulnerability and Speech even goes as far to imply emotional abuse and bad parenting caused his nervous condition, which in turn caused his stammer, but the movie never gets too far into it. Speech avoids a lot. Like delving too deep on Firth, or giving Bonham Carter anything to do except fret about him, or continue Rush’s subplot—he gets more to do in the first act than anywhere else. The rest of the time he’s just Firth’s sidekick.

There are a lot of familiar faces in the supporting cast, some more successful than others. Michael Gambon is great as Firth’s father, Derek Jacobi isn’t as the archbishop; Timothy Spall’s in between as Winston Churchill. Guy Pearce plays Firth’s brother, first in line for the throne but willing to throw it all away for married American girlfriend Eve Best. Pearce is in some weird makeup, which does most of the acting for him. Sadly it doesn’t do a particularly good job of it. Best is merely ineffectual more than anything else. She’s not in it enough. Like many of the subplots, she and Pearce just disappear from the film when they stop being useful. You get through Speech seeing all these major events—some for everyone, some just for the royal family—without ever getting Firth’s prologued reaction to them. He’ll bitch to Rush about Pearce, but finding out Best is a Nazi sympathizer has no substantial effect. Because Seidler’s not willing to get into Firth’s head too much. Speech is the inspiring tale of an unlikely king who managed to overcome a not insignificant disability. Seidler or Hopper never do anything without that purpose in mind.

Including all the distorted camera lens.

Other than not telling Hopper those shots are a bad idea and simultaneously condescending and insipid, cinematographer Danny Cohen does an excellent job. Hopper has got a handful of really excellent shots, which Cohen executes flawlessly. There’s one great exterior shot of Firth walking where I kept waiting for it to cut away but Hopper kept holding it, every second making it better. Because even though the lengthy shot is unlike a many of Hopper’s other shots, it showcases Firth’s performance, which Hopper does a superb job with. Except when the lens are distorted.

The only other significant supporting cast member is Jennifer Ehle, as Rush’s wife. It’s a too small part, with Ehle not getting anything much to do when she’s in the film, but she’s good and rather likable. It’s a shame Speech didn’t take more time with Rush. Not even once he and Firth form a sincere friendship; it’s all about Firth, not about Firth and friend. So certainly not about Firth’s friend’s family life. Other than the occasional sweet scene.

The film looks great—sets, costumes—sounds great; even though Alexandre Desplat’s score is a little bland, the sound design itself is outstanding. It’s a good production.

The King’s Speech showcases a spectacular performance from Firth, which is basically all it needs to be a success (as far as its own ambitions go). Rush and Bonham Carter both being excellent as well—Bonham Carter and Firth are lovely together—doesn’t really matter. It’s a shame Seidler and Hopper weren’t more ambitious but they still got that phenomenal Firth performance.

The Importance of Being Earnest (2002, Oliver Parker)

Oliver Parker takes an interesting approach when it comes to adapting The Importance of Being Earnest from play to screen. He doesn’t worry much about opening up the film; at the beginning of the film, he showcases late nineteenth century London and later does quite a bit with Colin Firth’s country estate… but during the lengthy, dialogue-heavy scenes, he just lets the dialogue do its work.

The playfulness of the dialogue, the combination of sincerity and humor the cast imbues in it, makes Earnest seem open even when it’s closed. Tony Pierce-Roberts’s sumptuous photography and Charlie Mole’s playful music help quite a bit–and there are some distinct, memorable outdoor sequences (not to mention a singing montage). It’s quite an interesting adaptation.

Of the two male leads–Firth and Rupert Everett–Everett gets to have more fun. It’s appropriate, because of their love interests–Frances O’Connor for Firth and Reese Witherspoon for Everett–O’Connor gets to have more fun. It all balances out.

The film moves through a few phases, with the focus switching between Everett and Firth, before it becomes their dual effort to win back their love interests. That structure also allows for some nice scenes with O’Connor and Witherspoon. O’Connor and Everett are outstanding.

There’s some nice support from Judi Dench, Tom Wilkinson, Anna Massey and Edward Fox.

As the film winds down and the contrivances stack up, it does appear a little flimsy. Luckily, Parker saves some good jokes for the finale and recovers.