On the surface, The King’s Speech plays like another obligatory Oscar season melodrama rife with weighty performances, lofty prestige and convictive import. It is all that. But deeper within its soul, where few filmmakers have the courage --  much less the talent -- to go, The King’s Speech has another layer of substance. Beneath the stuffed-shirt eloquence resides something far more accessible and more charming -- a heart-warming buddy story in which the kinship comes from a theme of “the royals are really just like us” and the comedy is driven by the running joke of a jester’s naiveté poking at the royal aristocracy.

The royalty in this story is Albert (Colin Firth), the second son of King George V (Michael Gambon), who grew up with a speech impediment, which caused him to stammer and stutter for much of his life.  About the only expectation of a turn-of-the-twentieth-century king was to “look respectable in uniform and not fall off his horse.” But with the advent of radio, with its relentless stare of the red “on the air” light, came the necessity of public speaking, which didn’t fall within the realm of a stutterer’s strongest suits.  But Albert is eventually forced to face his greatest fears when his father dies and his brother, Edward (Guy Pierce) abdicates the throne to marry a twice-divorced American woman. Albert becomes King George VI, and periodic live radio broadcasts will become an expected part of a king's duties.

Following several failed attempts to treat his ailment -- including marbles in the mouth and heavy does of nicotine -- Albert finally consents to the behest of his wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), and seeks the help of Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), a speech therapist who lacks not only a medical degree, but also an obligatory respect for the protocols of British royalty. Lionel insists on calling Albert “Bertie,” and possesses the uncanny knack of emerging from the loo – having just flushed the toilet – each time his royal charge arrives for sessions.

The film begins to crackle with life the moment Rush and Firth first appear on screen together. The story’s gloomy backdrop -- stippled by the looming European invasion by Hitler’s army -- is beautifully offset by the playful and witty banter of two actors at the top of their game. The film’s supporting performances are to near perfection as well, especially that of Bonham Carter who brings a measured sense of patience and acerbic bite to her role as supportive wife. She perfectly channels the queen mum as a take-charge kind of woman who shaped the role of the monarchy for years to come.

The film’s course could have easily tipped over into absurd farce or fake nostalgia, but in the skilled hands of director Tom Hooper, and with the seasoned experience of Rush and Firth, it maintains a delightful path of touching, witty, significant, and at times, even moving. And that’s what really puts The King’s Speech on the map. It’s so much more than just another British period piece or costume drama steeped in historical significance or factual accuracy. Like The Queen (2006), it’s a story about the effect of ordinary people on the vitality of the monarchy and, specifically in the case of The King’s Speech, how a sympathetic teacher befriended a reluctant king and helped him overcome his fears and disabilities to help lead the free world to victory over Hitler and his Nazi army.

(Released by The Weinstein Company and rated “R” for some language.)

Review also posted at www.franksreelreviews.com.