1x07 Scientia Potentia Est

[7.6/10] It goes without saying that the acting, direction, and cinematography on The Crown remain impeccable. The tears in John Litghow’s eyes as he gets dressed down by the Queen, the portentous shot of Tommy scowling through his office window at a tree being trimmed, the impressive sequence of the palace staff going to extraordinary lengths to prepare for a state dinner are all outstanding. In truth, I take that part of the show for granted at this point, which is unfair, because none of it’s easy, and many shows fall down on the job.

But I also find myself bristling a little at the message that The Crown is (maybe?) sending here. I find myself sympathizing with the basic ideas, and blanching a bit at where the show goes with them.

The education throughline is a great example. I love the idea of Queen Elizabeht being frustrated, even embarrassed, about what she wasn’t taught and doesn’t know from her upbringing. Her insecurity about rubbing elbows with the Great Men:tm: and diplomats of the era, given how much she feels like she’s ignorant of is sympathetic. And her effort to rectify that with a tutor who can bring her up to speed is noble.

But I don’t love where the show takes that idea. On the one hand, it’s natural to be upset by something and project that feeling onto the nearest outlet for it.On the other hand, Elizabeth is kind of mean to her mother about the whole thing, who was part of the same system and probably had the same type of education herself. (For South Park fans, their opening discussion over the newspaper felt like Bebe’s “Those are two entirely different numbers” conversation with her mom.) Not for nothing, it’s worth noting that while we see Elizabeth trying to rectify her own dearth of education, there’s no scenes dramatizing the idea of her trying to see that her own kids are provided a different sort of instruction.

More than that though, the storyline then spills over into the cheeky professor who’s tutoring her basically giving her a “You know all you need to in order to deal with these statesmen” speech. Which, no! No she doesn’t! It’s fair for her to want to be educated! It’s fair for her to acknowledge that there’s gaps in basic knowledge that are worth filling. I get the show wanting to continue to convey the idea that Elizabeth is more capable than she thinks, and I like that tack. But I find the, “It’s okay that she doesn’t know math since she remembers one lesson on the constitution” thrust of this one baffling.

Part of it may be simply that I’m too American to jive with what the series is pitching here. The political angle here, featuring both Churchill and Eden ailing and hiding the true state of their health from the public, is an interesting one. I appreciate the betrayal Elizabeht feels from being lied to, and I particularly like her wrestling with how to handle the situation, particularly at a time when she’s already insecure about her stature and worldliness in front of these storied statesmen.

But I have real qualms about Professor Hog’s encouragement to give them a good dressing down over it. I get and like the overall project of Elizabeth coming into her own as a young monarch finding her sea legs on the job within a system she wasn’t quite ready for and that wasn’t quite ready for her. At the same time, though, I get real heartburn from the unelected, hereditary figurehead of the country telling the actual elected representatives what they should or shouldn’t do, and draping it in notions of God and constitution. That type of thing is anathema to me, and I have a hard time rooting for it, and Elizabeth, with those sorts of motivation and methods, even if she’s in the right on the merits.

I’m intrigued, if a bit put off, by the consternation over who the Queen wants as her private secretary. She naturally wants Martin, the guy she spent more time with as a princess. Prickly Tommy, on the other hand, wants Michael, the next in line, to get the job. It’s another clash on the show between the “tradition” camp and the “evolution” camp. My natural sympathies go to Elizabeth here, both on the principle that slavish devotion to tradition is a dead end, and on the personal point that she has more of a rapport with Martin and would value having an ally within this cold and indifferent system.

And yet, even if I low-key hate the guy, I’m fascinated by Tommy’s perspective on the whole thing. His basic point is that individuality is a slippery slope toward disaster. (If they ever need a new villain for The Owl House, I hope he’s available.) I don’t agree with him at all, but I’m fascinated by the idea that he attributes King Edward’s abdication as the result of a steady stream of personal liberties taken in defiance of time-tested methods and safeguards. I still don’t like the guy, but I understand his perspective, which is the sign of good writing.

His fears come with a touch of irony since Elizabeth turned out to be England’s longest-reigning monarch and one who, if anything, helped bolster the institution with her personal reputation. But there’s weight behind his concern over how Edward surrounded himself with spineless sycophants.

All that said, the choices the show makes in how to progress things with Elizabeht are defensible, even if I have my personal objections to the message that seems to be implied. What’s far more baffling is how they end this serious, dramatic episode with a tonally bizarre scene that closes with the heavy implication that Elizabeth’s about to give her husband a blowie. Uh...okay?