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turning to page one
The King’s study, which resembles an orderly naval captain’s cabin, except for a desk littered with stamp albums, has been converted into an ad hoc broadcasting studio. KING GEORGE V is a barrel-chested man with Naval beard and uniform.
He is giving his Christmas address via the radio.
KING GEORGE V (CONT’D)
...within our borders, to regain
prosperity in this time of
depression without self-seeking and
to carry with us those whom the
burden of past years has
disheartened or overborne. To all,
to each, I wish a Happy Christmas.
God bless you.
The red light next to him goes out, indicating the broadcast is complete. Robert Wood, the BBC technician from Wembley, stands by as well as an official photographer.
King George V looks at Bertie, who is standing next to him.
KING GEORGE V (CONT’D)
Easy when you know how.
PHOTOGRAPHER
Sir?
Bertie moves away and the photographer captures the King, seated at his desk.
KING GEORGE V
(to Bertie)
Have a go yourself.
WOOD
Congratulations, Sir.
KING GEORGE V
Ah, Mr Wood. Splendid fellow. Chap
taught me everything I know: let
the microphone do the work.
WOOD
Sir.
KING GEORGE V
Thank you.
Wood and the photographer take that as their cue to leave.
KING GEORGE V (CONT’D)
Sit up, straight back, face boldly
up to the bloody thing and stare it
square in the eye, as you would any
decent Englishman. Show who’s in
command.
Bertie regards the BBC microphone as though it were an alien creature.
BERTIE
D-d-don’t thu-thu-think I c-c-can.
In the presence of his father, Bertie’s stammering returns in full form, his breathing short and shallow, the neck muscles in spasms.
KING GEORGE V
This devilish device will change
everything if you won’t. In the
past all a King had to do was look
respectable in uniform and not fall
off his horse. Now we must invade
people’s homes and ingratiate
ourselves with them. This family is
reduced to those lowest, basest of
all creatures...we’ve
become...actors!
BERTIE
Papa, we’re not a family, we’re a
firm.
His father shoots Bertie a surprised look: does the lad have a brain after all?
KING GEORGE V
The most successful institution in
history. Our cousins wear crowns
throughout Europe. A dozen of them!
Sitting on thrones is our business!
Yet any moment some of us may be
out of work. Your darling
brother... The only wife he appears
interested in is invariably the
wife of another!
BERTIE
(tries to brighten things)
He’s broken off with Lady Furness.
KING GEORGE V
And taken up a Mrs Simpson, a woman
with two husbands living! Had the
audacity to present her to me at
Georgie’s wedding. I told him
straight no divorced person could
ever be received at court. He said
she made him sublimely happy. I
imagined that was because she was
sleeping with him. “I give you my
word we’ve never had immoral
relations,” he replied. Stared
square into his father’s eyes...
and lied.
Bertie groans.
KING GEORGE V (CONT’D)
When I’m dead that boy will ruin
himself, this family, and this
nation, within twelve months.
Who’ll pick up the pieces? Herr
Hitler, intimidating half of
Europe, Marshall Stalin the other
half? Who’ll stand between us, the
jackboots, and the proletarian
abyss? You? With your older brother
shirking his duties, you’re going
to have to do a lot more of this.
(nodding towards the microphone)
Have a go yourself.
Bertie tries to read the King’s speech.
BERTIE
Through one of the m-
KING GEORGE V
Get it out boy!
BERTIE
...m-marvels of m-
KING GEORGE V
Modern - just take your time - form
your words carefully
BERTIE
Science, I am enabled, this C-
KING GEORGE V
Relax!
(off Bertie’s continued inability)
Just try it!
BERTIE
...this Christmas Day, to speak to
all my p-
KING GEORGE V
(all patience lost)
Do it!