The Women of THE CROWN

Elizabeth II    

 

 

 

 

 

Claire Foy, Olivia Colman as Elizabeth II     

 

 

With the array of powerful women inhabiting the television series THE CROWN, there is no question which one of them is the center of the universe. However, rather than present a hagiographic documentary of the current queen, Elizabeth II, the series offers insights into history by taking the viewer through scenes relating to world events beginning with Elizabeth's marriage and coronation. Elizabeth wears the crown, and in doing so, she accepts the weight of acknowledging it is her God-given right to do so. Right there, we lower-case democrats puzzle at the concept--which THE CROWN invites us to do. It is clear the writers have an agenda of illuminating the sometimes inscrutable behavior and attitudes of all the royals, and, as the 20th century unfolds before us in the series, forgotten tales and apparently insignificant sidelights take on new meaning.

We learn not only about Elizabeth and her nuclear family, but also of incidents in the lives of the women around her including her sister Margaret (portrayed by Vanessa Kirby and later by Helena Bonham Carter). Princess Anne, the royal daughter, is captured valiantly by Erin Doherty. Season 4, airing now in the U.S. brings us Emma Corrin as Diana Spencer, Gillian Anderson as Margaret Thatcher, and Emerald Fennell as Camilla Parker-Bowles. 

All these characters are known to us but not quite as they are shown here. This Princess Margaret, whom we have seen in newsreels as physically attractive and confident, if a bit rebellious, comes over as self-centered and small-minded, but always a trifle more vulnerable than anyone else, and perhaps consequently more human. To present the many stories, dialogues between two people that illustrate a relationship or further the story line, may be unlikely ever to have happened. Yet something similar surely must have--so we are drawn into the stories, scene by scene.  

At first, we are told it is all about Elizabeth. Her father tells her new husband, "She is your job now," and so it goes as the series proceeds. There are bumps in the marriage but the couple remain committed. Philip is complex and not always transparent or lovable, yet Elizabeth rises above the everyday conflicts and challenges as she must. Whether or not the real Elizabeth is as insightful is a question, but her ability to remain confident and unbending would be daunting to any adversary. She is disarmed by Jacqueline Kennedy, only to be hurt days later learning Mrs. Kennedy spoke rudely of her. She never masters the demands of motherhood, apparently because she has no tools to do so, having been raised in the bubble she was. Her needy son is a mystery to her, and not one she has much interest in solving. At one point she marvels that her husband has the ability weep, as shedding tears has never been possible for her. She is above it all, and that is difficult work for woman or man.

She is not unaware of what is happening around her, and there is a scene late in the series in which she asks her daughter Anne to give her the details about Charles and his unhappy marriage to Princess Diana. Anne lays it out precisely, mainly with the phrase, "Diana is young for her age and Charles is old for his age, and they should not be together." The conflict springs from the fact that Elizabeth was never a good mother, and being asked overtly, as she is in the series by Diana, for maternal solace and affection, she is as offended as she is perplexed.  There is an episode with scenes of genuine warmth and love between Diana and Charles, but the two are in reality so mismatched we know it will not last. We have, of course, the advantage of knowing how it will turn out--pleasant as the love scene is, we know better.

THE CROWN does present, in no small part through its female characters, a question of whether the reality is that royalty creates unconquerable pressures on all who surround it. We see a stoic Margaret Thatcher attempting to foist her fierce world view onto a frozen monarch trying to suppress her own shock. We see a princess sister throwing royal tantrums as a way to wrest power and significance on a par with her sibling, whom the state declared entitled to it years before. We see a prince as a lonely boy growing up confused about his own competence and yearning for the support of either parent. We see Elizabeth lavishing her concern and compassion only on her horses and dogs. 

We can marvel at the pageantry, the tradition--the beauty even--of having monarchs to observe the government of a nation without the ability to participate in it except ceremoniously. But what the institution of the monarchy itself does for anyone is left to ponder. They are just people, after all, who happened to be in a certain place at a certain time.  The only thing special about any of them is that they have been indoctrinated with the view from birth that they are special and demand respect without a clue of how to earn it and without any levers of real power. 

The moment early in the series when Elizabeth makes her vow to her god to defend the crown she will wear is probably the most important revelation we are to get. It is the solemn testimony, given by English monarchs for centuries, that endows this particular one with a kind of divinity that transcends time and feels completely anachronistic in the 21st century.