[7.8/10] I like the glimpse we get of what can charitably be called the before times. No one knows that the King’s death is coming (or at least not so soon), so we get to see life as it was when an ailing but vibrant king was the norm.
At home, we see the wheels of politics roll. Anthony Edens begs the king’s intervention with a prime minister who’s clearly ailing himself, only to be gently rebuked for making such an inappropriate suggestion while receiving a benediction from a monarch who sees momentous things in the man’s future. We see heartwarming scenes between King George and his daughter, driving together, singing together, enjoying the kind of bond that can exist with an offspring not expected to wear the crown. Their ease and rapport is wholesome and endearing in turn.
Most of all, we can see a King George who seems happy with his lot in life. On his final day he feels like a “new man.” He bemoans the day that Arthur Widnor ceased to exist, all but damning the brother who gave him this curse, but he ends the day smiling and contented, awash in the glow of family and what’s yet to come.
At the same time, we see the last days of Elizabeth and Philip as a normal couple, or at least as normal as life can get for the royals. For Philip’s part, we see the yin and the yang of his related attitude toward everything. He treats the locals in Nairobi with a casual disrespect, demeaning their metals and calling a ceremonial crown a “hat”. And yet, his relaxed attitude allows him to bond with the locals in the way his stiffer counterparts cannot. Despite some curtness with his bride at times, he risks his life to save hers from an angry elephant, with the thematic significance of his facility in dealing with a monarch, be they human or pachyderm. And he can make Elizabeth laugh, taking their fine dining less seriously and goofing off with her in their little bungalow. It’s he who breaks the news of the King’s death to Elizabeth, and despite the cowardice of the secretary who carries the difficult responsibility, you’re glad it comes from him.
We also see the final days of Eizabeth as a free woman, or something closer to it. We see ehr baking in the majesty of Nairobi's countryside, in the glimpses of wildlife making their way through the dark that stills the soul. And most importantly (and a bit too cutely), we see her resolving to get her father’s permission to return her family to Malta, to enjoy more of their “normal” life before the pull of royal duties resumes. This is the last holiday, the last time when she will be Elizabeth Mountbaten, and she doesn't even know it.
And then the unthinkable but inevitable happens. The king is dead. Long live the queen. And the sudden, sorrowful, glorious, and freighted transition to a new era begins.
It’s superb to watch all of this come together, the combination of private grief and a substantial public event merged into one. The wheels still turn. The occasion still positions Edens as Churchill's successor, whether Winston likes it or not. There’s a mildly tiresome interlude with Group Captain Townsend, the married man Princess Margaret is having a dalliance with. Most interestingly, there is a mad dash to try to get the news to Elizabeth despite her being on another continent, so that she doesn’t simply hear it on the news.
But the thrust is simple. A family has lost a loved one, a has lost its figurehead, and a woman’s life is forever sacrificed on the altar of what her father left behind.
The back half of the episode is centered around that idea. Everything is different now. Elizabeth and Philp lose their personal secretary, one who was “their man”, in favor of the next one up the chain, due to her change in title. Grandmama writes an encouraging but bracing letter about how the crown must win out over the life Elizbeth used to lead. Philip must wait and follow behind his wife, rather than walk beside her, because now the sovereign takes precedence. The sovereign is to take precedence in all things.
The show lays it on a little thick, to be sure. If you didn’t get the point of these motifs, you must have practically been falling asleep. And even if you were, the slow zooms and gasps and voiceovers will hold your hand through it. But the actors do great work not only reacting with grief to George's death, but reacting in shock and even dismay to the realization that all they once knew, all they once were, is gone now, and all that’s left is the titular weight soon to sit atop Elizabeth’s head. The wrongness of one's grandmother bowing to them drives that home better than all the flashier elements of the episode.
And yet, apart from the succession, the transition and acclimation which I expect to define this season, the other bit of grand significance here is the depiction of Nairobi and its people. There is something uncomfortable to the modern eye to see representations of 1950s colonialism in force. To hear Elizabeht herself refer to the area as having recently been a land of savages is galling. Philip’s flip attitude toward their culture is appalling. Watching an all-black group of servants waiting hand and foot on these privileged, powdered-bottom people feels distasteful.
Nonetheless, The Crown walks the line nicely by not having anyone express anachronistic views, while also suggesting in its own way, through choice cuts and shots, that much of this is not okay, and unduly dismissive of a people who are no less valid, caring, or sophisticated than the descendents of the people who barged their way in five decades prior.
Stil, one of my favorite parts of this, lily-gilded though it may be, is the moment when Elizabeth is driving to the airport, and one of the locals who was at her welcome ceremony steps out into the road with his people to see her off. He wears the headdress-like adornment that Elziabeht herself recognizes as a crown. And the implication, from the shot selection and editing, is that there is some sort of recognition between the two of them, that however patronized or infantilized the leaders of Nairobi are by the English, this man too, is a monarch, and in some cosmic sort of way, he understands, in a way no one else does, exactly the sorts of challenges this new member of the cub will have to face. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, no matter what culture they hail from.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2023-05-30T01:10:25Z
[7.8/10] I like the glimpse we get of what can charitably be called the before times. No one knows that the King’s death is coming (or at least not so soon), so we get to see life as it was when an ailing but vibrant king was the norm.
At home, we see the wheels of politics roll. Anthony Edens begs the king’s intervention with a prime minister who’s clearly ailing himself, only to be gently rebuked for making such an inappropriate suggestion while receiving a benediction from a monarch who sees momentous things in the man’s future. We see heartwarming scenes between King George and his daughter, driving together, singing together, enjoying the kind of bond that can exist with an offspring not expected to wear the crown. Their ease and rapport is wholesome and endearing in turn.
Most of all, we can see a King George who seems happy with his lot in life. On his final day he feels like a “new man.” He bemoans the day that Arthur Widnor ceased to exist, all but damning the brother who gave him this curse, but he ends the day smiling and contented, awash in the glow of family and what’s yet to come.
At the same time, we see the last days of Elizabeth and Philip as a normal couple, or at least as normal as life can get for the royals. For Philip’s part, we see the yin and the yang of his related attitude toward everything. He treats the locals in Nairobi with a casual disrespect, demeaning their metals and calling a ceremonial crown a “hat”. And yet, his relaxed attitude allows him to bond with the locals in the way his stiffer counterparts cannot. Despite some curtness with his bride at times, he risks his life to save hers from an angry elephant, with the thematic significance of his facility in dealing with a monarch, be they human or pachyderm. And he can make Elizabeth laugh, taking their fine dining less seriously and goofing off with her in their little bungalow. It’s he who breaks the news of the King’s death to Elizabeth, and despite the cowardice of the secretary who carries the difficult responsibility, you’re glad it comes from him.
We also see the final days of Eizabeth as a free woman, or something closer to it. We see ehr baking in the majesty of Nairobi's countryside, in the glimpses of wildlife making their way through the dark that stills the soul. And most importantly (and a bit too cutely), we see her resolving to get her father’s permission to return her family to Malta, to enjoy more of their “normal” life before the pull of royal duties resumes. This is the last holiday, the last time when she will be Elizabeth Mountbaten, and she doesn't even know it.
And then the unthinkable but inevitable happens. The king is dead. Long live the queen. And the sudden, sorrowful, glorious, and freighted transition to a new era begins.
It’s superb to watch all of this come together, the combination of private grief and a substantial public event merged into one. The wheels still turn. The occasion still positions Edens as Churchill's successor, whether Winston likes it or not. There’s a mildly tiresome interlude with Group Captain Townsend, the married man Princess Margaret is having a dalliance with. Most interestingly, there is a mad dash to try to get the news to Elizabeth despite her being on another continent, so that she doesn’t simply hear it on the news.
But the thrust is simple. A family has lost a loved one, a has lost its figurehead, and a woman’s life is forever sacrificed on the altar of what her father left behind.
The back half of the episode is centered around that idea. Everything is different now. Elizabeth and Philp lose their personal secretary, one who was “their man”, in favor of the next one up the chain, due to her change in title. Grandmama writes an encouraging but bracing letter about how the crown must win out over the life Elizbeth used to lead. Philip must wait and follow behind his wife, rather than walk beside her, because now the sovereign takes precedence. The sovereign is to take precedence in all things.
The show lays it on a little thick, to be sure. If you didn’t get the point of these motifs, you must have practically been falling asleep. And even if you were, the slow zooms and gasps and voiceovers will hold your hand through it. But the actors do great work not only reacting with grief to George's death, but reacting in shock and even dismay to the realization that all they once knew, all they once were, is gone now, and all that’s left is the titular weight soon to sit atop Elizabeth’s head. The wrongness of one's grandmother bowing to them drives that home better than all the flashier elements of the episode.
And yet, apart from the succession, the transition and acclimation which I expect to define this season, the other bit of grand significance here is the depiction of Nairobi and its people. There is something uncomfortable to the modern eye to see representations of 1950s colonialism in force. To hear Elizabeht herself refer to the area as having recently been a land of savages is galling. Philip’s flip attitude toward their culture is appalling. Watching an all-black group of servants waiting hand and foot on these privileged, powdered-bottom people feels distasteful.
Nonetheless, The Crown walks the line nicely by not having anyone express anachronistic views, while also suggesting in its own way, through choice cuts and shots, that much of this is not okay, and unduly dismissive of a people who are no less valid, caring, or sophisticated than the descendents of the people who barged their way in five decades prior.
Stil, one of my favorite parts of this, lily-gilded though it may be, is the moment when Elizabeth is driving to the airport, and one of the locals who was at her welcome ceremony steps out into the road with his people to see her off. He wears the headdress-like adornment that Elziabeht herself recognizes as a crown. And the implication, from the shot selection and editing, is that there is some sort of recognition between the two of them, that however patronized or infantilized the leaders of Nairobi are by the English, this man too, is a monarch, and in some cosmic sort of way, he understands, in a way no one else does, exactly the sorts of challenges this new member of the cub will have to face. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, no matter what culture they hail from.