TV Crown of thorns for royals
JWELL, aren’t we lucky? Only another year to go before Season 5 of The Crown starts on Netflix. And if that’s too long to wait for your next dose of palace poison, lord knows there’s plenty of rubbish around to fill the gap.
Like Diana The Musical, the TV movie reviewers have called the most excruciating musical of all time, featuring Diana singing to her second son in his cot: “Harry, my ginger-haired son / You’ll always be second to none!”; while
Charles croons this immortal line: “Darling, I’m holding our son / So let me say jolly well done!”
Good, eh? Roll on Christmas panto! And if this schlocky horror show doesn’t float your boat you can always try the new movie Spencer, described by the producers as “a fable from a true tragedy”. Critics describe it as an Alice In Wonderland nightmare in which Charles is a snarling brute and the Queen has such lines as: “The only image that matters is the one on the pound note.”
Why do they always write such rubbish?
Which brings to mind the last season of The Crown, the only purpose of which was to blacken the characters of the Royal
Family. Olivia Colman’s Queen was cold and snobbish, Charles was selfish, tortured and cruel. The only character who came out worse than the royals was Margaret Thatcher, portrayed by Gillian Anderson as a stooped, husky caricature of a woman, despised by the royals as laughably suburban. I hated it.
But it’s coming back next November and already the publicity machine is cranking up. Jemima Khan, once a friend of Diana, has pulled out of her involvement, saying she’s unhappy with the direction the series was taking and she’d hoped Diana’s story would be handled “respectfully and compassionately”. Fat chance. The Crown isn’t into compassion, or even accuracy in my opinion. It’s a moneyspinning cartoon masquerading as a beacon of historical importance. I think its cruelty targets people who are still alive, but unable to defend themselves.
Who knows what will happen in the next year as the royals struggle through an inevitably distressing and turbulent time?
Who knows what insults they’ll hurl at our frail, aged Queen?
I certainly won’t be watching – that’s a promise.
JTHE husband is presently self isolating in a cottage many miles away. At the moment he can use his phone but he’ll shortly be cut off completely and, for a while, I won’t know if he’s dead or alive. It’s all very odd.
November gloom always depresses me; fortunately my kids have rallied round and I’m rarely alone. And it may sound shallow but what really cheers me up is planning my fantasy kitchen. It will be news to my husband, but it’s happening next year.