I finally saw The King’s Speech last week. Yes, I know, everyone has seen it several times, got a copy of the DVD for Christmas, critics have hailed the film, and why would I wait so long to see it? I must admit, when everyone seems enthusiastic about something, I’m generally more cautious about attending. Well, in this case, I was more than pleased with the film, led by two remarkable actors, Colin Firth and Goeffrey Rush, and supported by some very beautiful photography.

It was also most interesting to examine how classical music was woven into the narrative structure. Mozart’s overture to Nozze di Figaro is used as background -  or rather drowning – music when Bertie, not yet king, records a monologue from Hamlet for Lionel  and excerpts from the sublime Clarinet Concerto accompany the speech therapy montage. Beethoven shows up twice as well, with excerpts from the slow movement of the “Emperor” Concerto but especially with the Allegretto of this Seventh Symphony, used when King George makes his first wartime speech, adding density and emotion to the moment. I must admit that the night after I saw the film, that particular music haunted me several times…

Here is the scene, for your enjoyment.

The film had been loudly saluted in Europe so I seized the first chance I got to see The Concert (with English subtitles in some cinemas), a Radu Mihaileanu movie.

The story is as as extravagant (some moments are truly unplausible but we go to the movies to escape the real world, right?) as it is delicious. The movie is essentially the story of Andrei Filipov (Aleksei Guskov, particularly expressive with his eyes and hands), the once famour conductor of the Bolshoi orchestra, whose carreer was abruptly interrupted 30 years ago under Brejnev when he refused to let his Jewish musicians go. He is still on the paylist of the Bolshoi however, but this time as janitor. One late night he is stuck cleaning up the director’s office, he intercepts a fax from the Théâtre du Châtelet, an invitation for the Bolshoi to become quick replacement for the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He gets the crazy idea to make this opportunity his own, and to bring his own team of old friends (who all have tedious jobs) on a Parisian tour.

Together with best friend Sacha (endearing Dmitri Nazarov) and the help of one time adversary Ivan Gavrilov (Valeriy Barinov), an ex-KGB agent who ruined Filipov’s career, they raise funds and sponsorship and finally make it to the stage of the mythical French hall. Will Filipov be able this time to lead a complete performance of the Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, with the help of Anne-Marie Jacquet? That is the (easy to answer) question.

The Concert won the Cesar for Best Music Written for a film and Best Sound, and it’s not difficult to see why. The ensemble cast is more than convincing (François Berléand as Châtelet’s manager Olivier Morne Duplessis is a pure joy to watch), the music is of course great (and made me love  Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto once again). Through the laughs (numerous), the director was clever enough to integrate a (soft) critique of the communist system, a reflexion on the neccessity of filiation (the young violinist has never known her parents) and, of course, the importance of music. The scene in the restaurant in which Filipov explains what the concerto and music mean to him is remarkable in that sense.

I was certainly not as shaken when I left the theater than after viewing Polanski’s The Pianist (a very different story, of course) or even as sweetly moved then after Les Choristes. Nevertheless, The Concert is a movie that reconcilies anyone with the musician herewithin, wheter you are a professional or a simple music lover.

Lucie