“A
Heavy Head”
Her Majesty
A Review of The Crown: Season 4 by Nick Olszyk
Distribution Service: Netflix
Year: 2020
MPAA Rating, TV-MA
USCCB Rating, NR
Reel Rating, Four Reels
For
three hundred years after entering the Promised Land, Israel’s government was a
loose confederation of tribes united by a common faith and the occasional judge
but without a centralized human authority. While this was not without its
problems, the arrangement gave the Israelites an unprecedented amount of
personal autonomy. Yet by the turn of the 1st millennium BC, the
people had grown annoyed by their own freedom and divine favor. They demanded the
prophet Samuel appoint a king over them “so they could be like other nations.” “Give
them what they ask,” God told him. “For it is not you they have rejected but Me
as their king.” This would begin slow, sad spiral downward that would end in
exile and misery for God’s people. It’s an ominous warning for all monarchies,
but especially for the now middle-aged Queen Elizabeth II in the fourth season
of Netflix’s The Crown. At least Solomon had actual power, but what is
the point of such a figurehead in the modern world?
Jane
Austin opened Pride and Prejudice by saying, “a single man in possession
of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” Prince Charles (Josh O’Connor),
now in his early thirties, certainly has a good fortune but seems perfectly
content with his adulterous affair with Camilla Parker-Bowles (Emerald
Fennell). His family, especially Queen Elizabeth II (Olivia Coleman) and Prince
Philip (Tobias Menzies), thinks it high time he settle down with a nice girl “who
the people will love as a princess and, in time, as queen.” The second storyline
involves the rise and fall of Margaret Thatcher (Gillian Anderson), Britain’s
first female prime minister, although she has little interest in glass ceilings
but intense interest in the gutting the voluminous budget. In the 2nd
season, the Queen complained that all her prime ministers were “too old, too ill,
or too weak” and “didn’t last the course.” With Thatcher, she gets the exact
opposite and may soon regret it.
The
one thing this season had to get right was Princess Diana, and newcomer Emma
Corrin could not have given a better performance. Corrin portrays Diana Spencer
as a naïve teenager who got caught up in a world way over her head. She really
did love Prince Charles, but he saw their marriage as a convenient arrangement,
not a true relationship. Even still, there is evidence that it could have succeeded
had both partners been willing to put in the hard work any vocation requires.
Despite her flaws, Diana really did try, but Charles not only refused to stop
seeing Camilla but found ways to deliberately thwart Diana’s plans for reconciliation.
It was reminiscent of the relationship between another pair of royals: Saul and
David. While both were quite sinful, Saul never gave his heart to God and
always skimmed off the top. When confronted with his own evil, David repented
and prayed genuinely for the Lord’s help.
Rightly
or wrongly, Charles is the clear antagonist of the season. Not only is he
terrible to his wife, but, as a future king, demonstrates exceptional mediocrity.
He constantly complains about his problems, which are usually self-imposed, and
spends inordinate amounts of time in silly little projects like instructing his
gardener to prune the bushes of his summer home in a circular manner “to maximize
calm energy.” His ideas are small, petty, and “lack grit” in the words of
Margaret Thatcher. Charles never once feels duty bound and instead bases all his
decisions on personal feelings. He erupts at Diana when she outshines Camilla
in the public eye, yelling that when “she hurts her, you hurt me.” He sulks around
his estates, face constantly down at his shoes, like a depressed ghost. Even
his beloved sister calls him “Eeyore.” My
favorite moment of the season is when the Queen finally tells him off after his
whines about his marriage for the 27th time:
“You are not
suffering. We are all suffering having to put up with this. When people look at
you and Diana, they see two privileged young people who through good fortune
have ended up with everything. No one, not a single, breathing, living soul
anywhere sees cause for suffering. They know you betray your wife and make no
attempt to hide it. They know that, thanks to you, she has psychological
problems. All anyone wants is for the pair of you to pull yourself together,
stop making spectacles of yourselves, and make this marriage and your
enormously privileged positions in life work.”
Based
on Peter Morgan politics, I made a prediction when I heard Thatcher would be a
prominent feature of this season. In my mind, I foresaw her as cold and aloof
to the nation’s problems but nonetheless inspirational for her work ethic and
position as the first female prime minister. I was mostly correct. There are
many things that irk liberals about Thatcher, but their primary complaint is
her refusal to dabble in identity politics. She was far more interested in her
conservative policy agendas then celebrating her femininity. She surprises the
Queen when she appoints no women to her cabinet, finding them “too emotional
for high office.” She also never
compromises in her radical vision for a “self-reliant” United Kingdom and is
more than willing to make “enemies left, right, and center” in the process. This
hubris proves ultimately to be her undoing as she alienates even her closest
allies. Yet, beneath this, there is a sense of respect for what she
accomplished. No one worked harder and sacrificed more for her country, no one
except perhaps the Queen herself.
In
the 1st season, a young Elizabeth is sternly told by her grandmother
that her most important task as monarch is to “do nothing.” “The less we say or
think or exist, the better,” she warns. Elizabeth takes this fully to heart, but
Charles challenges her. What is the point a monarchy with not only no power,
but no soul? Elizabeth tries speaking her mind briefly in opposing Thatcher on
South African sanctions but quickly recoils when confronted. Perhaps that is
why her favorite child is Prince Andrew, who boldly volunteers to fight in the
Falklands War despite his privileged position. Without power, the only other
reason for the monarchy is an ideal, a symbol of British values. Yet, as the
family photo taken during the last scene indicates, that reason is crumbling
fast.
As
an American far removed from European history, it is easy to find the British
royal family fascinating, although with the recent crisis in the States, one
can sense a taste of monarchical despotism in the actions of governors across
this land. Yet, we are all called to be kings and queens in our own home. The family
is a domestic church. In that sense, a monarchy does have meaning when it
provides a model for its citizens to follow. When it does not, the meaning
ceases. Unfortunately, that is where The Crown seems to be heading.
This article first appeared in Catholic World Report on December 10th, 2020.
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