We haven’t been to watch a film at the cinema for over two years. Why? We don’t really know, as there have been films we’ve wanted to see after all, so there’s no real reason for our non-attendance. But, Thursday night saw us at the Odeon in Chelmsford to watch the five-star reviewed The King’s Speech.

There with three other members of my Starfish Project stammering recovery group and their other halves, we didn’t really know what to expect from a two-hour film depicting King George VI’s struggle with his stammer, played out against a subtle backdrop of the abdication of his brother Edward VIII (who was to marry Wallis Simpson), the ensuing accelerated ascension to the throne, and the outbreak of World War II.

What we got was certainly deserving of the much-praised five-star reviews in the press; a brilliantly honest, and, at times, emotionally touching account of ‘Bertie’s’ stammer and how he overcame it with Australian ‘speech defect’ specialist Lionel Logue. Tom Hooper’s film starts with George VI reluctantly and uncomfortably addressing the 1925 Empire Exhibition at Wembley Stadium, and chronicles his and Logue’s journey, resulting in his 1939 three-page radio speech declaring the start of World War II.

What’s interesting is the close friendship that the two men developed. Through a mixture of honesty and trust (much like that of a speech therapist and a patient), the viewer sees them go through ups and downs, and scenes both hilarious and hysterical, all accurate portrayals of how nearly all stammerers feel during the varying degrees of their recovery.

A stellar cast certainly helps the film tells its story. Colin Firth is breathtakingly accurate in his portrayal of ‘Bertie’, while Geoffrey Rush plays the part of the understanding Logue brilliantly. Helena Bonham-Carter is the ever-supportive Duchess of York (later the Queen Mother), while a supporting cast of Guy Pearce (Edward VIII), Michael Gambon (George V) and Timothy Spall (Winston Churchill) make sure that all the pivotal characters play their part.

With beautiful cinematography depicting a 1930s London, the film’s script was reportedly updated after the discovery of some of Logue’s original notes. Years in the making due to the late Queen Mother’s apprehension about its release, it’s one of the best films I think I’ve ever seen. And while that may in part be down to personal reasons, The King’s Speech shouldn’t be overlooked. To enchant an audience with what could be a particularly difficult or dry subject for two hours is something both truly special and inspirational.

Spending three days with fellow stammerers, you learn the basic costal breathing technique, and how to manage the feelings around stammering. Through various exercises and lots of chatting (something many stammerers haven’t been able to do before, remember), many people begin to find their voice at last.

It’s much more than a residential course spent at a hotel in the Sussex countryside. You meet so many people who understand what you’re going through and are about, and who you would not have met before; you immediately become one of the Starfish family. The first course has a fee, but after that, repeat attendances are free, and as a ‘refresher’ speaking from experience, you get so much more out of the second time than the first, because you are helping other people, just as other people helped you.

The Starfish Project is the passion of Anne and David Blight. Born from a vision in 1999, Anne moved away from the more well-known McGuire Programme, and started to teach her stammering toolbox of approaches to eight to 10 people at a time. Even though she has never stammered herself, she seems to know the frustration and occasional pain that stammerers feel. Making no claim to cure stammering (as that cure is non-existent), it’s quite literally breathtaking what results the course can have.

Just take these situations as examples. Some attendees haven’t been able to order a takeaway pizza, buy a coffee, or ask for what  they would like in a shop, as the stammer has always taken control of the situation. A mundane, everyday task very often becomes a herculean one. To see these people overcome their stammer and finally get some self-belief and reclaim back their lives is truly inspirational. But, every stammerer is as individual as their stammer, and the way if affects them.

I first became a member of the Starfish (Supportive Training And Recovery For Individual Stammerer’s Harmony) family some five years ago, and went back the following year as a refresher, but, like some distant and lost cousin, have been away for some time. There’s been no logical or genuine reason for that, although I think that being a covert stammerer and sometimes hiding my speech problems meant that I didn’t practise either the technique or the thinking as much as I should have done. My covertness often lead to complacency; my speech wasn’t as difficult as other people’s, so should I worry that much?

But, you know what? In those four years, my speech was, at times, as difficult as other people’s. So, I made the resolution to go back on a course this year, and although something came up on that particular occasion, I was heartened to read of a workshop day, right on my doorstep in Chelmsford. That was on Saturday, and after a fantastic day meeting over 40 other Starfishes, I’d like a think that I’m once again on the way to becoming a not-quite-so-distant member of the Starfish family.

I’ve joined the Essex support group, which handily meets in Chelmsford every fortnight; my first visit was last night. They’re a lovely bunch, and very supportive of each other, making hopping on the getting back train and staying on it so much easier. It’s good to be back, too, and the ‘comeback’ visit down to Sussex will happen, I’m sure of that. This week has been a little strange at times, though; as it seems that even just talking about the course – always in an excited and energised way – makes me stammer.

But, all of us know that everyday won’t be perfect, and if we have a good day, we have a good day. And, if we don’t, it’s nothing to beat ourselves up about. At the moment, I’m taking each day at a time, and setting myself minor goals, almost rewinding to the start of that first course. It’s been hard, and you do sometimes forget, but if you continually think Starfish, then just like the stammer has been, it becomes a whole new way of life.