Can anything derail The King’s Speech?

On Baftas weekend, a look at this year’s blockbuster British film.

Last year's Baftas set the tone for the awards season, with five winners of top-tier awards – The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow, Christoph Waltz, Mo'Nique and Up – going on to glory at the Oscars.

This year, of course, the chatter is all about The King's Speech, which has 14 nominations. But, as the Independent's behind-the-scenes guide to the awards notes, it could suffer from having its votes split betwen the Best Film and Outstanding British Film awards.

The Independent article also offers an interesting analysis of why so few films get all the attention. (This year, it's The King's Speech, Black Swan, True Grit and The Social Network.) Although 207 films were entered in the various categories for the Baftas, the average number seen by the academy's 13,000 voters was 37. Understandably, most people don't have time to watch 400-plus hours of movies in the run-up to the awards, and so the films with the biggest marketing budgets and a critical head of steam benefit from their high visibility.

This year, that means that the top gongs at the Golden Globes were split between The King's Speech and The Social Network; the latter did better at the London Critics' Choice awards, beating the British film four to one. The Screen Actors Guild, meanwhile, gave Colin Firth and his film an award each, with Natalie Portman taking Best Actress and The Fighter the other two movie awards.

The other obvious trend during awards season is the bias against "commercial" films. As the Telegraph notes here, the Harry Potter franchise has had 23 Bafta nominations over the years but only one win (for production design). Similarly, last year's Oscar votes went to the determinedly small-scale Hurt Locker, rather than Avatar. (Say what you like about the blue aliens and the plot that was oddly reminiscent of Pocahontas, but James Cameron did invent a whole new type of film-making . . . )

Not that the Baftas are averse to films that happen to rake in the cash. The King's Speech is about to pass $200m worldwide at the box office, from a reported budget of £15m. (By comparison, The Social Network, with the advantages of a well-known writer and director and a subject that everyone has an opinion on, has taken $220m.)

The Guardian's Andrew Pulver and Xan Brooks report that the success of The King's Speech gives hope to the "lost middle" of the world film industry – movies that are neither giant money-hoovers nor tiny indie flicks. If so, a Bafta triumph would be a huge boost for a sector shaken by the scrapping of the UK Film Council.

The full list of Bafta nominees is here.

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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