It’s never fun to watch a cherished TV series run out of steam before it’s reached the last episode, but I regret to say this is what is happening in Part Two of The Crown’s final season.
“Ruritania” is just a rehash of well-trod storylines punctuated by a few historical events and even more bizarre creative decisions. In short, it’s a mess. The first half feels like a weak reboot of The Crown’s Queen vs. Margaret Thatcher rivalry from season four, with Prime Minister Tony Blair usurping Queen Elizabeth’s popularity in the late 1990s. (The episode seems to be The Crown’s editorial take on the long-held rumors that Tony Blair was one of the Queen’s least favorite prime ministers.)
The second half of the episode, which focuses on the tired plotline of “Let’s modernize the monarchy!” pulls from season two’s “Marionettes” and season three’s “Bubbikins.” But the episode is no different from The Crown’s countless episodes that all end with the same message: “Don’t try to modernize the Queen because she knows what she’s doing, and that’s why the monarchy has endured for centuries.” Yawn.
In a scene that may just surpass Ghost Diana and Ghost Dodi as The Crown’s weirdest narrative choice, episode co-writers Daniel Marc Janes and Peter Morgan kick off the cold open with a literal nightmare: Queen Elizabeth dreams that she’s renounced the throne in favor of Prime Minister Tony Blair. While a downtrodden Elizabeth walks the empty streets of London alone, the rest of her family attend the coronation service in funereal attire. They watch as Elizabeth’s traditional monarchy is wiped out and immediately replaced by a way cooler “New Britain” presided over by “King Tony” and a new national anthem — the 1993 D:Ream dance/pop tune “Things Can Only Get Better” (no, I never heard of that song before either). Instead of lords and ladies, club kids — and a random redheaded woman who looks like she’s supposed to be Geri “Ginger Spice” Halliwell — fill the pews. I’m no monarchist, but this is terrifying.
As soon as Elizabeth wakes up with a start, we learn why she’s having these dreams: Tony Blair’s popularity is skyrocketing, and she feels threatened that she’s no longer the “unifying national symbol.” So, she asks her private secretaries to find out why, and in doing so, she admits that she’s — wait, what? — willing to turn inward. Even her secretaries are skeptical about the Queen’s sudden enthusiasm to receive constructive criticism. It’s not like she’s done terribly well with that in the past.
Focus groups are conducted and the findings are presented to the Queen and other senior members of the family. Shocker, the public believes the royal family is out of touch with the regular people. We know this, and frankly, the Queen and Co. should know this by now, too. Yet for some reason — likely for the sake of episodic drama — Elizabeth still believes Prime Minister Blair, unlike previous ministers, could pose a long-term threat.
If Blair is a threat, we’re certainly not seeing it, at least not yet: The beginning of “Ruritania” is set in early 1999, when Blair spent a good part of his energy drumming up support for NATO’s invasion of Kosovo, where President Slobodan Milosovic was engaging in genocide. Blair’s biggest challenge at the time was persuading President Bill Clinton to send in American ground troops.
Meanwhile, the Queen is living her best life during a Women’s Institute speaking engagement. Americans may not be familiar with this organization, but Elizabeth describes them to a T: “The uncomplaining, hardworking countrywomen of Middle England.” Translation: Her kind of people. In their sensible skirts and sweaters, singing the hymn “Jerusalem,” the drab, grey-haired, jam-making WI members hardly seem intimidating at first glance. But it’s wise not to forget Elizabeth’s foreshadowing to her private secretary, Robert Fellowes, before describing the WI as the secret backbone of the United Kingdom: “You underestimate them at your own peril.”
Tony Blair continues in his relentless pursuit of American ground troops in Kosovo, with The Crown recreating a real speech that Blair gave in Chicago in April 1999 that appealed to the American public conscience. The speech boosted Blair’s popularity even higher, especially in the United States, with a New York Times article even using the term “King Tony.” So the Queen is not pleased in the slightest when Fellowes informs her the prime minister achieved an “extraordinary political feat” by ultimately persuading Bill Clinton to send in ground troops — which in turn resulted in Milosevic’s swift defeat. When she greets Blair during their weekly meeting at Buckingham Palace, she’s positively snarky: “I hope you didn’t slip on the way here — it can’t be easy walking on water.” DAMN.
Since Elizabeth can no longer deny Blair’s level of influence on the world stage, she decides to relent and asks the prime minister what the royal family can do to improve their own social standing. She might as well have asked Blair and his staff to enter Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Room because they go to town.
This was my favorite part of the episode because The Crown finally got to make fun of all the inane honorific roles that populate the royal household. Ceremonial roles that, to anyone outside of the United Kingdom, or even just the royal family, sound ridiculous and pointless. Blair encourages the Queen to consider purging her household of such very real positions as Queen’s Herb Strewer, Warden of the Swans, the Rouge Dragon Pursuivant, and the Maltravers Herald Extraordinary.
Now, I don’t know about the Maltravers Herald, but I’ll tell you one person who is extraordinary in this scene: Imelda Staunton. The subtle crossing of her ankles, as well as Staunton’s uncanny ability to exude passion through a poker face, beautifully illustrates Elizabeth’s underlying fury.
So, the Queen and Robert Fellowes interview the numerous, seemingly superfluous royal household members. What Her Majesty is pleasantly surprised to learn is how seriously they all take their jobs and how, yes, being Yeoman of the Glass and China Pantry is indeed a source of personal pride.
When she meets with Tony Blair again to discuss her findings — which somehow occurs after an awkward time jump into late 2000 (there’s talk of the Al Gore/George W. Bush election) — she has more than a few words for the cocky prime minister. And those words are, to paraphrase, “Stay in your lane.” She doesn’t believe that the royal household is a hotbed of extravagance but instead a place where “precious expertise” is nurtured. The Queen then offers her progressive head of government the same reminder she’s given most of his predecessors on this show: The royal family survives through its magic, its mystery, and its immutability — which means tradition will almost always trump modernity. But she promises she’s not against reform, either. I can’t argue with that statement because when you look at Elizabeth’s 70-year reign, there are a couple of reasons why she lasted on the throne as long as she did. Has the monarchy changed enough? Absolutely not. Just ask Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. Still, Elizabeth knew how to do the job better than anyone, and she did allow change, slowly and subtly. For example — and this was briefly mentioned in “Ruritania” — the rules of succession were amended to end the displacement of female royals by male siblings and to allow royal marriages to Catholics.
Still, Queen Elizabeth, as she always does on The Crown, has the last laugh. Tony Blair, looking to strengthen his support base, decides to give a speech at a large Women’s Institute conference. A speech espousing “drastic action” and “radical changes” over “old-fashioned practices.” These women may be traditional and salt-of-the-earth, but remember what Elizabeth said about them earlier in the episode: “You underestimate them at your own peril.”
And that’s exactly what Blair did. Uncomfortable shifts soon turn to sneers, slow clapping, and angry walkouts. As Elizabeth listens to a news report about the prime minister’s disastrous WI appearance, she can’t help but gloat while sipping her tea.
For the record, yes, Tony Blair did give a tone-deaf speech at the Women’s Institute’s national conference in June 2000. While he was jeered, the appearance wasn’t a complete disaster as The Crown made it out to be. This speech also occurred in June 2000, and The Crown’s version appears to take place much later in the year.
“Ruritania” then wraps up with a typical Buckingham Palace meeting where, once again, the Queen puts her too-big-for-his-britches prime minister in his place, clapping back that there’s no such thing as being “too royal.” At least, not if you’re doing it right, like her. You know what? Good for her. I may not agree with the royal family in most cases, but I applaud Elizabeth for standing up to her bully.
Crown Jewels
• If the hymn “Jerusalem” sounded familiar, it’s probably because you heard it while Hugh Grant frantically searched for the wedding rings during Wedding No. 1 in Four Weddings and a Funeral.
• I am the antithesis of a military expert, but it does appear The Crown took liberties (as it does) with the timeline and details of the U.S. involvement in Kosovo, especially when it comes to Blair’s insistence that American ground troops were the key to a NATO victory. The U.S. had already launched airstrikes in March 1999, and Blair’s transformational speech occurred in April.
• The Yeoman of the Glass and China Pantry is also responsible for “folding all 170 of the embroidered white linen napkins.” Which has to be a joke inspired by this pitch-perfect Crown parody, right?
• I am so sick of The Crown portraying Prince Charles as the monarchy’s great modern savior. He’s the only member of the royal family who appears open to Blair’s changes, while everyone else remains aghast. While it’s true that King Charles wants a more slimmed-down monarchy, there was no shortage of pomp or splendor at his coronation this year.
