[
While it may seem like America and Britain have a lot in common, Season 6 Episode 6 of The Crown points out a few sharp differences between our great nations: First of all, as an American, I have never been sought out to be a part of a focus group about the monarchy as, it seems, so many Britons have over the years. Also, it’s true, I’m one of the dumb Americans who probably couldn’t point to Yugoslavia on a map. And three, I have no idea who D:Ream is, the pop band whose 1994 song “Things Can Only Get Better” is used as the soundtrack to Queen Elizabeth’s N:Ightmare in the show’s opening scene where she finds “King” Tony Blair usurping her throne. Come to find out, this song was a #1 hit in the UK in 1994. Like, I have lit-er-al-ly never heard of this group. I’ll blame this cultural blind spot on my nonstop obsession with the Reality Bites soundtrack that year.
But anyway, there’s a lot happening between the U.S. and the U.K. in this episode of The Crown (not to mention a lot of Bill Clinton impressions being tested out at the Blairs’ house! Cherie’s definitely was better.) now that Slobodan Milosevic is committing genocidal war crimes all over Yugoslavia. Prime Minister Tony Blair (Bertie Carvel), whose Labour Party now holds a majority, is the hip, young (relative to the senior royals!) politician of the moment. He’s a PM with popularity that’s comparable to Winston Churchill in wartime, and much like Churchill in 1941, he’s desperate for America’s military help in dealing with a war on the continent. Bill Clinton is apprehensive about sending in ground troops to the region since getting involved in a war would totally damage his approval ratings, but Blair goes to America and convinces Clinton to threaten American intervention in Serbia, and Milosevic backs down. It’s a global success that makes Blair the man of the hour, and with such high approval ratings, the Queen (Imelda Staunton) seeks him out for his advice.
See, the Queen’s approval ratings are in the toilet. For what seems like the 20th time on this show, the British public is polled to find out whether they think the monarchy is relevant, in touch, and worth keeping around, and the majority of the public thinks they are not any of those things. She asks Blair to make some recommendations on how to repair the royal image (if watching Cherie Blair impersonate Bill Clinton wasn’t exciting enough, watching her take gleeful digs at the monarchy is just as fun).
When Blair presents the Queen with a list of way that the monarchy could modernize, he suggests some bigger items, such as financial transparency and allowing royals to marry Catholics, and some smaller cost-cutting ones, like eliminating roles such as the royal bargemaster and the warden of the swans. “Someone has to oversee the swans,” Elizabeth says, coining my new favorite saying. Elizabeth visibly bristles at every suggestion, despite the PR victory that it might bring in the eyes of the public.
One by one, she meets with the real people who hold these ceremonial roles: the hereditary royal falconer, the lord high admiral of the wash, etc. – and it pains her to think of even eliminating one of them. (The gravity and pride with which her royal glassware caretaker who is also the royal napkin folder says “Few have truly mastered the Dutch bonnet fold,” is splendid.) The Queen resists making changes because, as she tells her family, there’s nothing typical or rational about the monarchy. To transport people to another realm and create a sense of magic in an otherwise mundane world. And for that reason, she tells the Prime Minister it’s the crown’s duty to uphold the ancient traditions these roles preserve and protect, and she won’t be getting ride of them. “Modernity is not always the answer,” she tells him. Unfortunately for the Queen, her private secretary, Robert, has decided that he’ll sacrifice himself instead. The optics will appear that the Queen is scaling back her staff, and she won’t have to sacrifice any of the ceremonial posts she holds dear. (While this guy has been present throughout the past two seasons, this isn’t a loss that hurts that much, considering I always think his name is Peter.)
Of all The Crown‘s types of episodes, (i.e. The Ones Where Their Personal Lives Are In Shambles, The Ones Where There’s A Big Tragedy, The Ones That Reveal More About Margaret or Philip) this one of my favorite kind: The Ones Where The Queen’s Relationship With The Prime Minister Is Scrutinized Within The Context Of A Real Historical Event. I enjoy watching the show depict actual moments in history, and that was nearly absent from most of the episodes surrounding Diana’s death. The show depicts the contrast between Blair, now a celebrity politician who represents progress and change, and Elizabeth, who represents centuries of tradition, by showing them deliver two speeches, both to the Women’s Institute. Elizabeth’s speech, which she wrote herself, is filled with humor and appeals to the hard-working women in her audience who appreciate the fact that she acknowledges the role they play in society, keeping things orderly and running on time ever since the war.
By contrast, Blair’s speech, which closes out the episode, gets political and focuses on progress and all that hopey changey stuff, and gets him booed off stage – and it’s based on an event that really did happen in 2000.
Elizabeth had assumed there was no audience Blair couldn’t win over, but here, she gets her moment of glory, realizing that her message of preserving the past still has an audience after all.
Liz Kocan is a pop culture writer living in Massachusetts. Her biggest claim to fame is the time she won on the game show Chain Reaction.
