In past seasons, The Crown has benefited immensely from its ability to operate episodically; some of the show’s most gorgeous and affecting story lines have been stand-alone chapters. This installment is probably the most experimental departure the series has taken so far, with the royal family operating as a supporting cast while we follow the lives of three men of color, most notably Mohamed Al-Fayed, an Egyptian Anglophile and self-made billionaire.
The show takes us to Alexandria, Egypt, in 1946, where Mohamed grew up. His father, citing the Anglo-Egyptian War, feels disdain for the British, but Mohamed feels disdain for his dad. He thinks his father lacks ambition, vision, and power, yet he sees the same qualities in the British and wants to match them. I feel like we’re wading into dicey territory.
Let’s fast-forward to Paris in 1979. The Al-Fayed family is putting in an offer for the Ritz hotel — it’s the highest bid yet, but there’s still resistance from the sellers. Mohamed says, with his son Dodi translating, that he wants to restore the hotel’s reputation and yet he’s being disrespected and discriminated against. The Al-Fayed crew get up to leave, but are stopped. They’ve got a deal.
With the Ritz acquired, Mohamed finds two people who catch his eye on opening night. The first is Heini Wathén, a blonde Finnish model whom he’ll eventually marry (he and his first wife, Samira Khashoggi, divorced shortly after Dodi was born). The second is a Black server working the event — a presence that will taint the hotel’s reputation, according to Mohamed. It’s a quick reminder of how anti-Black racism is pervasive even in other communities of color. Forced to do his father’s dirty work, Dodi reluctantly asks the server to leave while Mohamed dances with some friends.
But it doesn’t take long for Mohamed to change his tune; he learns the server is none other than Sydney Johnson, a Bahamian who worked as the personal valet to Edward VIII — the Duke of Windsor and once the king of England — for over 30 years. (Johnson’s employment seems especially noteworthy considering the royal household had discriminatory hiring policies until at least the 1960s.)
Mohamed asks to speak to Sydney. At first, they make chitchat, recalling when the Duke of Windsor visited Alexandria, but then Mohamed gets down to business: He wants to learn how to be treated as royalty, or at least as a proper British gentleman. He mentions how the country’s customs and manners rule the world — British society is seen as the finest. (Barf, but okay.) Admittedly, we often hear the queen talk about how the public looks up to her family as ideal, and here we have proof.
Watching Mohamed go from contempt to cordiality only after learning of Sydney’s proximity to royalty (and arguably, by extension, whiteness) is a bit uncomfortable. I’m not sure how factually accurate the scenario is — it’s certainly not an unrealistic dynamic — but the choice seems potentially messy and narratively unnecessary if it was indeed invented (we can already tell Mohamed is smug and elitist).
But since the Duke of Windsor treated Sydney with patience and kindness as he learned the ropes all those years ago, Sydney employs those qualities here, along with a forgiving attitude. So Mohamed enrolls in Sydney’s Eurocentric finishing school for grumpy, rich businessmen.
Time for a field trip! Mohamed and Sydney go to a horse show where the queen will be in attendance. Depressingly but unsurprisingly, they are stopped at the gates and asked to prove membership while posh white people walk past them unchecked. Mohamed learns that the VIP seated next to the queen happens to be the event’s sponsor and Harrods’ largest shareholder, so of course, he plans to buy the iconic department store. NBD.
But when Dodi hears of his dad’s intentions — which would come with a £600 million price tag — he’s worried there won’t be money left for him to pursue his dream of starting a film-production company. Not unlike Charles, Dodi wants a chance to pursue his independence and dreams, but Mohamed withholds support and mocks his son’s potential. It all goes to show that the tensions plaguing the Windsors can play out in other families, too. The elder Al-Fayed is more like a royal than he thinks.
Ultimately, though, Mohamed comes through and keeps Dodi’s dream alive. We see Mohamed and Sydney on set with him during the filming of what would go on to become an iconic scene: the running-on-the-beach sequence from Chariots of Fire. Mohamed is skeptical about the legitimacy of the film (“Where are the girls?”) but is won over when Dodi tells him the gist of the plot (of his movie but also this episode): “It’s an inspirational story where the outsider ends up becoming an insider.” (It also has one of the most epic movie anthems of all time. RIP, Vangelis.) Months later, the film wins four Oscars, including Best Picture, and both Mohamed and Dodi are thanked in the acceptance speech. The cherry on top? Mohamed still goes on to buy Harrods — an Oscar-win–win situation.
In not so uplifting — or, depending on how you look at it, not so tragic — news, Sydney learns that Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor, has died. Mohamed brings tea to Sydney, who is coughing lightly (no!) and looking at photos of his former life, including some taken at the late duke’s home in the Bois de Boulogne. They decide to visit in person, and Sydney laments the state of the once majestic, now dilapidated Paris residence. The duke and duchess’s belongings have already begun to be numbered and catalogued for auction. Troubled by the notion, Mohamed resolves to buy and restore the villa as well as the contents of the house. “It will be my gift to the British royal family,” he reasons.
Upon completion of the three-year renovation, Mohamed invites the queen to visit the property, which he has renamed Villa Windsor. Elizabeth’s not keen — things had long been fraught with her abdicating uncle — but she learns the home contains high-value items the Crown should retrieve, including the duke’s diaries and material that suggests he and his wife were Nazi sympathizers. It’s the stuff of royal PR nightmares.
The queen accepts the invitation, much to Mohamed’s excitement. But as Mohamed, Dodi, and Sydney wait together on the doorstep, there’s a change of plans; Elizabeth has sent workers to retrieve the items instead. Once the collectors leave, Sydney tries to comfort his boss: “Whatever thoughts you might be thinking, I imagine they’re no different from the thoughts the duke had about the royal family almost every day he was alive.” But Mohamed is incredulous, saying he’s happy to make the queen happy.
Remember Sydney’s cough? It has, of course, been getting progressively worse, so we sadly know that means his end is near. Not just near — it’s here! We watch Mohamed take care of his bedridden friend, gingerly helping him gulp down some medicine. (Much as when Mohamed brought him tea, it’s bittersweet to see someone serving Sydney for a change.) When Sydney’s breathing stops, Mohamed lays his slippers on the bed and releases a tear. Later, we see that his tombstone reads, “Sydney Johnson, Valet to the King.”
As normal life resumes, we’re taken back to another Royal Windsor Horse Show, but this time Mohamed is the event’s official sponsor. Despite the expectation that the queen will sit with him, she decides to go with Margaret and Porchey, her horse-racing manager. Stood up once again, Mohamed gets another seatmate (drumroll please): Diana! Talk about a consolation prize!
Diana claims the queen — a.k.a. “Boss Lady” — is allergic to her as well, not just to Mohamed, and reveals that she’s there to try to get back into the queen’s good books. Turns out even someone on the “inside” can feel like an outsider. The odd couple have a cute chat — a platonic meet-cute, if you will.
Dodi stops by to say hi and gets a quick introduction to Diana before leaving to join his party (he later looks back at her wistfully). Diana teasingly rifles through a gift bag Mohamed had prepared for the queen as Her Majesty watches, pleased with how her seat switcheroo has turned out. But it’s rare for us ever to see the queen ignore her sense of duty or obligation. Even with the lightness of the situation, this all feels chillingly foreboding as we know how it ends for Dodi and Diana.
Royal Diary
• This isn’t our first introduction to Sydney: He made an appearance back in season three. (This season, he’s played by Jude Akuwudike, but in 2019, he was played by Connie M’Gadzah.)
• Regardless of how you feel about Mohamed, Salim Dau does a wonderful job carrying this episode and has some really great comedic line deliveries in what’s otherwise a pretty hardened role.
• This whole story line exists at an intersection of so many different cultures, biases, and dynamics that it’s way too complex to discuss in a pithy way (e.g., I’m sure some people will criticize the portrayal of Sydney’s reverence toward the duke and duchess as well as Mohamed’s obsession with the monarchy). I’m not sure the show knows what it’s trying to say here either. Even so, I went into the episode skeptical but eventually found the departure from The Crown’s overwhelming whiteness refreshing, even if the narrative is still entrenched in that world. And at the very least, while the series steers toward the tragedy of Diana’s death, it’s worth remembering there were other losses that night too.
