The Conclave
We open with the Queen Mother having a bit of a wobble, as she's too upset to speak at the unveiling of George VI's statue. Margaret says she should do it, especially as she was, after all, his favorite. "What, you're going to deny it?" she says innocently to Elizabeth (an exchange they repeat nearly verbatim later, as if the producers forgot they kept it in both places). Margaret throws it to the QM as the head of the family, but Elizabeth briskly points out that SHE is the head of the family and thus she shall do it. So SIT DOWN, Margaret. Are you even 24 yet? This is late-twenties business, child.
The Cigar
Churchill seems to have bounced back from Strokegate. The Queen is set to undertake a 23-week Commonwealth tour, and Winnie's advisors are concerned that too many nations are protesting British rule and that she's not ready to visit the areas where the most rabble is being roused. Like Gibraltar. "If Britain had a habit of backing down, we'd be living under the yoke of fascist tyranny!" he growls. So he, at least, seems to have gained a glimmer of faith in Elizabeth since last week, when she both rapped him on the knuckles and didn't rat him out to anyone else. She's a good secret-keeper. I bet QE2 totally knew the location of the Order of the Phoenix.
The Salon
If Elizabeth seems glazed, it's because she's been shown 100 dresses, 50 pairs of shoes, and 36 hats for her tour, and can't economize and downsize because of each nation's expectations of something specialized and personal. To wit, Norman Hartnell puts an array of flowers in front of her, all while Elizabeth looks both pretty and tense. This blue and black dress is nice, but the color scheme DOES evoke a bruise, which I'm sure is how her spirits are feeling at the prospect of the dog and pony show.
The Wardrobe
Many of these dresses will make an appearance later in the recap -- or, at least one of them. I love the old-school use of models walking each outfit past her, presumably so she can see how it moves and catches light. (I wonder if he had to put out a call for a boatload of women in Elizabeth's exact size.) Honestly, this would help out a lot of actresses with their red carpet issues, too.
The Scowl
It will not shock you to learn that Philip's fittings are about 143 percent more whiny, and boy does Peter Morgan let him monologue about it. He is complaining about the "Commonwealth road show" and likens them visiting the crumbling Empire to putting a quick and cheap coat of paint over an old car to convince people it's still good. "If the costumes are grand enough... the titles preposterous enough, the mythology incomprehensible enough, we'll still be fine," he postures. He then calls his outfit a "costime," and when he's corrected that it's a uniform, he sniffs, "You wear uniforms to battle. This is a costume fitting." Well, it was good enough for you once, Philip. Just because you hitched your wagon to a shrinking empire doesn't mean you need to knot your knickers. Your heating and booze bills will still get paid.
The Mustache Returns
The Queen Mum helpfully exposits that, no, we are not crazy; Tommy Lascelles IS retired but he's just doing her a solid today. (I feel like the show didn't want to fully drop the Tomshell just yet, because why WOULD you part ways with that mustache? Also he looks a fair bit like the real George VI, actually.)
ANYWAY: The QM is Liz's Counsellor of State -- aka deputy -- while she's on the roadshow. But QM is still feeling fragile after bursting into tears in her car after the statue unveiling, and wants to buzz off to Scotland, where she deos her best healing. (Scotland is like One Tree Hill's River Court, apparently.) So she tells Tommy to make sure Margaret gets some jobs: "She needs to shine."
The Lounger
Margaret, meanwhile, is curled up in bed and shining through the telephone at Peter Townsend, who's in a dead-end job in Brussels and being closely supervised to make sure there are no clandestine booty calls. "Without you to protect me, guide me... I feel quite unanchored," she pouts. I wonder if that's actually the clue to her infatuation. Maybe he really was the great missed love of her life, but I also wonder if he was a George VI surrogate for her -- at first because G6 was often otherwise occupied, and then because of the whole dead thing.
The Coat
All right, so I've been REAL CRANKY about this characterization, but a friend indicated to me that Elizabeth the QM did in fact come into her own more once she settled into Emeritus status, and was able to be a cool old lady who drank a lot of gin. I still find this actress physically wrong -- I'm not sure the QM was ever so meek or frail, and she's been weirdly cruel in past episodes in a way that I don't buy -- but if the show does follow through on sassing her up in her dotage, well, I can relax.
The Doubt
The QM tells E that she's been thinking, and the HIGHLY IRRITATING response from Liz is, "Don't think too much. It gets one in a muddle." SAYS THE WOMAN WHO SPENT THE ENTIRE LAST EPISODE EMBRACING DOING A LOT OF THINKING AND USING HER BRAIN. Also, that's a terrible attitude. That's Philip talking.
The QM repeats her plan to empower Margaret, but Elizabeth is REALLY skeptical that M can handle any of it because she's immature and unreliable. "She need to SHINE that one. And as elder sister you ought to be confident and generous enough to respsect that," says QM. "I AM," insists Elizabeth. "ARE YOU?" is the response. In case you weren't clear where this is going.
The Sword
Elizabeth then goes to help Margaret practice what the QM called "standing still and looking pretty and putting a sword on people's shoulders." E asks about Peter, and Margaret huffs, "GUILTY CONSCIENCE?!?" while dropping it onto Elizabeth's shoulder with the sharp edge and a trifle harder than is STRICTLY necessary, yielding this great Claire Foy expression. Do not give a jealous, slighted sibling a sword. That's the lost 11th Commandment.
The Piano Picture
This is a magnificently cool shot of Margaret with it, though. I have never looked this cool holding anything.
The Smug
Margaret, still supposedly 23 and yet still DISTRACTINGLY NOT, smirks that she will try not to upstage Liz despite her natural abundance of character. "Too much character. An excess of character," Elizabeth says. "Look at me and tell me you didn't say that with a little bit of envy," purrs Margaret. I live for the sharp, ever-so-British way they say "character." The R and the T could slice butter.
The Eyeroll
This accidentally ugly grab is actually quite perfect, because Elizabeth's response to Margaret is basically to be like WHATEVER GIRL.
Then: "Remember who you're standing in for." "My characterless sister?" "The Queen. Not a showgirl." Score one for QEII. She's not holding the blade but she's packing a sharp tongue.
The Tears
The Queen Mum owned a lot of sapphires but I can't find any in ring form; QEII herself did have a sapphire set that included a similar ring, and obviously the Kate/Diana ring is also like this, but neither of them were ever the QMs. Oh well.
The QM is visiting friends in remote Scotland -- picture Skyfall and you've basically got it -- and unleashes a tearful speech about how much she has lost: a partner, daughters (who no longer depend on her), a routine and sense of purpose, and the Crown. "Imagine 17 years experience as queen... and at the precise moment they should be giving me more to do, to stop me falling into despair, they take it all away. And put it all in the hands of a girl who's totally unequipped for it." That's fine, but y'all, you JUST had a scene where they gave her all QE2's stuff to do and instead she was all, "Mmm, I think I'd rather fall into despair, thanks. HARD PASS."
The Urgency
Churchill hustles onto Elizabeth's plane to tell her, before she leaves, that she should totally relax and all, but OH YEAH THE ENTIRE FATE OF THE EMPIRE HINGES ON HER. "Never let them see the real Elizabeth Windsor," he prattles. "Never let them see that carrying the crown is often a burden. Let them look at you but let them see only the eternal." I had no idea Winston Churchill had a side gig as a wacky old mystic. Next he will tell her that her star chart portends her eldest son growing up and telling his mistress that he'd like to be reincarnated as her tampon.
The First Stop
We open the tour in Bermuda, and again, however they did this, it was not cheap. Apparently this was the first time many of the Commonwealth nations had been visited by the sitting monarch, so it was a Big Effing Deal that she did it. Philip, of course, just wants to be at his Lunch Club drinking scotch with guys named Pip and Wanky and Wodge, or whatever. So when they head for their car and Elizabeth's secretary congratulates her on a fine speech that conveyed a great message, he goes, "Yes, 'stay loyal or die,' is that it? Can we knock off now?" Somehow she doesn't punch him in the throat.
The Quick Change
Here's a shot of her as she's about to get Dress No. 1 torn off and replaced. Yes, Philip is having a tantrum about keeping to a schedule: "It's like being in the Navy again." Oh, go iron your pants, you turd.
The Second Dress
We can't see too much of the ensemble, but there's a bit of the pattern and the hat -- it's a bit Von Trapp Family Playclothes, if I'm being honest -- and of course Pouty Philip the Human Frown. On the plane, as they wave through the window, he crabs that hopefully now that TV is more common, people won't bother to come out in droves. HA HA HA. Philip. Never were you more wrong. People LOVE a drove. They will never skip an opportunity for a good droving.
The Sneer
Margaret, not 30 but trying, devours the TV coverage with a look of death on her face, and then reads the speech she's been told to give to a bunch of visiting ambassadors. She then summons both her editing pencil and her secretary, who is...
The Bertie
... good old Martin "Mr. Edith Crawley" Charteris, and you can tell from his face exactly what he thinks of Margaret's plan to rewrite the speech and make it less dry. "It's not the sovereign's place to entertain," he ventures.
The Smirk
CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. By Margaret, not yet 34.
The Tiara
Any theories on which tiara that's meant to be, if any? It bears a passing resemblance to one that QE2 got as a wedding present and passed down to Anne, but that's about it.
Anyway, Margaret, a decade-plus younger than 35 (please note: It's not that I think Vanessa Kirby looks old herself; just that she's 28, and Margaret's costuming and makeup give her an older air rather than younger), glares at it and then asks for the Cambridge Lovers' Knot, at which point she's reminded it's the Queen's. "She won't mind," Margaret lies, before going full Ursula The Sea Witch: "They came to see a queen. SHOULDN'T WE BE GIVING THEM ONE?" Those poor unfortunate souls.
The New Tiara
Margaret goes out there and dazzles the room with a stand-up comedy act all her own ("sharp-witted rather than deeply intelligent," one article wrote of her in the 90s). She cracks wise about the lousy food, and how gorgeous they all are compared to Elizabeth's arduous task of sailing upon perfect tropical waters, then singles out three people: The US Ambassador ("The only honest thing to come out of Washington," which feels like a too-modern joke), the Libyan ambassador ("He's single, ladies"), and some Greeks ("a country which has brought us many things. Philosophy, democracy... my brother in law...," on which she drips with mischievous condescension to great laughter).
The Whaaa
Martin Charteris is TERRIBLY SKEPTICAL INDEED. Perhaps if he'd been more open, he could've invented Britain's Got Talent in 1954 and made himself a pretty billion.
The Hair
Margaret crows to Peter about her achievement in delighting the crowd, so high on rebellion that she thinks he should come visit ("The papers love us. We can do no wrong"). But what I really love about this shot is that she has total tiara-head. It genuinely looks like she just took that thing off after four hours and it dented her coif.
The Gloom
Elizabeth and her uncomfortably visible slip are VERY vexed after reading about Margaret's spectacular evening of diplomacy. (In trying to discover if said night really happened, I found the BEST old Chicago Trib headline: "Setting Patient On Fire Costs a Surgeon $1,300." If you are a surgeon who enjoys lighting patients on fire, that is a STEAL.) Philip finally notices something other than the nose on his face, and gets her to admit she might be hoping Margaret will screw up so as not to outshine her. "This isn't like you," Phil says softly, before suggesting they cut their itinerary down. "No. We keep every appointment. No cancellations. NOT ONE," Elizabeth resolves. O SHIT. IT'S A MOTHERF**KING SCHEDULE-OFF.
The Castle
The QM takes a nice amble with her pals to squizz a nearby castle, which is in disrepair and for sale. They call it the Castle of Mey, but in fact during this period it was called Barrogill Castle and she resurrected its original name after she SPOILER bought it. You can go visit; the gardens are supposed to be great. Anyway, the old guy who owns it can't put his finger on why he recognizes the QM, and she gleefully doesn't tell him.
The Injection
Elizabeth has been smiling so much that her cheek is spasming. But she can't stop smiling because, and I'm only barely paraphrasing, she believes she has Resting Bitchface. I hope we're witnessing First Botox.
And yes, while Elizabeth is in facial agony, Philip IS making it about him: He claims he woke up with his arm poking out the bed, because he was having a dream about waving to people all day. YOU POOR LAMB.
The Scold
Peter watches a newsreel of Margaret visiting a coal mine, in which she offers political opinions about working conditions and then winkingly notes that she misses Peter -- and rather more than her sister. He tells Margaret to button up and keep The Crown on their side. In this episode, I felt like Peter suddenly seemed a lot older and more fuddy-duddy than Sexy Dashing War Hero, and not just because of those pants. If deliberate, it's a clever way to make the various distances between them exceedingly clear.
The Frog
You also badly need to know this obscure fact: During this time in 1953, Margaret was chosen to co-direct a West End play called The Frog, and apparently IT WAS A DISASTER. Noel Coward wrote of it, and you are going to love this: "The whole evening was one of the most fascinating exhibitions of incompetence, conceit, and bloody impertinence... the entire cast displayed no talent whatsoever... It was a hilarious evening on the whole, if only it hadn't been so irritating." He ends with noting that backstage Margaret was eating foie gras and Champers and complaining about the audience. Please read. It's a STUNNING two or three paragraphs. Can we get an episode devoted to The Frog PLEASE.
The Glare
This scene is AWESOME. Okay: Everyone is tired. They're in Australia now. Philip is complaining AGAIN about how they're essentially the dancing bears in a traveling circus, and he grabs a cigarette because -- he says -- Elizabeth has taken away all his other pleasures. And of course she hates smoking (and he knows it) because it killed her father, so she RIPS IT OUT OF HIS OBNOXIOUS HAND. If I can't borrow "YAAS QUEEN here, where can I?
The Glare II
Snivel McSnitface then says George probably started smoking because cancer looked like more fun than this tour. Liz bellows, "SHUT UP." And here's where it gets HORRID and I would love to know if it's true: He asks what Liz is doing this for, and whether it's because she longs to hear her father say how brave and steady and reliable she is, IMITATES GEORGE'S STUTTER THE WHOLE TIME before concluding that she'd like most to hear George say, "Now finally I love you more than I love Margaret."
ICE COLD, PHIL. THAT IS NUCLEAR. And I have to say, I wholly believe that guy fights dirty. Speaking of...
The Throw
Elizabeth's reaction is to SCREAM and SMACK HIM and hurl anything breakable she can find STRAIGHT AT HIS HEAD and it's extremely therapeutic for me as a viewer. She even chases him outside abd throws a tennis racket at his face...
The Crew
... and is greeted by a friendly Australian news crew that was waiting to tape b-roll of them wandering around happily. (The show does not actually explain AT ALL why the crew was there. I had to turn to the Interwebs.)
The OOPS
"WELL THAT'S A SPOT OF BOTHER."
Apparently this did happen, or at least some iteration of it. This article makes it sound like E and P knew the crew was due there, and were supposed to be heading out to film with them; I'm guessing they just forgot? I don't know. The show plays it like they're the world's most restrained, genteel paparazzi, which is weird.
The Awkward
Elizabeth finishes getting dolled up -- looking quite fetching, but also distractingly like Ally Sheedy at the end of The Breakfast Club -- and tries to be blithe: "I'm sorry for that little interlude. I'm sure it must happen in every marriage. Now, what would you like me to do for your newsreel?" And lo and behold, the crew destroys the footage in front of her eyes. This IS an awfully nice view. I could see them forgetting the market value of Prince Philip nearly getting the smug knocked off his face.
The Churchill
Winston comes to upbraid Margaret for going rogue, and goes so far as to say the past person to impose individuality on The Crown -- Ed VIII -- nearly destroyed it. He has summoned the QM to come back and be Counsellor again, although history shows Margaret served in this role once a year from here on until her death in 2002.
The Captain
The QM is busy buying this castle on a cliff for a hundred pounds, which the owner thinks is insanely expensive, and she nearly laughs in his face for that. (He DID also list the place's faults quite extensively. He's terrible at this.) And when he escorts her back along the beach to her friends' place, arm in arm, Churchill's envoy appears to take HRH back to the Palace. Captain Imbert-Terry is astonished and respectful when her identity is revealed; she has tears in her eyes as she smiles and says she didn't tell him because it always makes people act differently: "Besides, you'd have doubled the price." They have a good laugh and I actually legit shouted, "KISS HER JUST KISS HER MAN." So I guess I'm 'shipping them now?
The Squabble
Philip stares moodily out the window of the Royal Yacht Britannia as Elizabeth amends her Malta speech to call it "my island of happy memories." Not good enough. Philip is still pissy and demands that they skip Gibraltar over concerns that the people are too volatile there at the moment. She counters that backing out will make them look weak. I am only showing you this picture of Elizabeth and her secretary because it's a view of E's very Sunday Church Clothes outfit, but trust me, both she and her husband stamp their feet and essentially stick out their tongues at each other.
The Secretary
Michael Adeane adores being in the middle of this squabble. Liz finally says that she GETS IT and NO ONE THINKS SHE'S A LEADER and ALL YOU JERKWADS THINK YOU CAN DO IT BETTER, but "for better or worse, the Crown has landed on MY head, and I say we go." BRAVA. Spine installation achievement: unlocked.
The Bitters
Margaret watches Elizabeth dock in Gibraltar as the newscasters proclaim her a complete marvel. The QM enters behind her and observes this before offering her depressed spawn a kiss on the cheek. So much for your oozing character, Margaret. In fact, I'd argue this is where Margaret learned that character and personality are not synonyms, and that one can often mean more than the other.
The Family
Here we deviate: What really happened is, the kids joined Liz and Phil in Malta and they rode home together (via Gibraltar, in fact) on the Britannia, where they docked on one side of London long enough to pick up the QM and Margaret and take them the rest of the way to Westminster. On the show, she and Philip arrive home alone, and then she watches him romp with the kids while she smiles as passively as if she's glancing at her favorite Reubens. This shot depicts the telling reality that Elizabeth's family, or at least her children, were mostly something that happened blurrily in the background while her attention was diverted elsewhere.
The Face-Off
"Elsewhere" turns out to a Churchill-endorsed scolding ofMargaret. The scene that follow is a wonderful confrontation -- and beautifully shot, because as Margaret realizes she will recede into Elizabeth's shadow, she is filmed that way, while Elizabeth gets what little light there is.
Elizabeth first lists M's offenses, which include making someone cry and refusing to meet the dancers at a royal performance for which she was also late. Margaret tries to play off her sass and unpredictability as her giving the people the character -- that word again -- and excitement they want. It continues with Margaret: "You give them NOTHING." E: "I give them silence." M: "Silence is nothing." E: "It's the absence of noise." M: "It's emptiness. A blank page." Elizabeth says her job is to allow others to shine. "The monarchy SHOULD shine!" Margaret protests. Elizabeth replies, "The monarchy. NOT the monarch." She concludes, "The last person who showed character almost took the ship down."
The Blouse
Margaret, not close to 40, is re-wearing a blouse from way earlier in the episode. They clearly shot all these scenes on the same day and figured no one would notice. BUT WHAT HO.
The Weary
"Two sisters who envy one another," Margaret says, hitting the nail a little too squarely on the head. Then Margaret asks if Elizabeth remembers how George called them Pride and Joy, and Elizabeth recalls it as, "Elizabeth is my pride, and Margaret is my joy." Margaret jumps in, "'But.' 'BUT Margaret is my joy.' I'm sorry. I have to claim the few victories I'm left with." It's curious that they hung a bell on this, because in every version I've found, he says NEITHER; he's quoted as saying, "Elizabeth is my pride; Margaret, my joy." Does anyone have it sourced the way The Crown does?
The Lesser Thing
Margaret, looks more like 42 here, repeats almost verbatim (from scene 1) that they're surely not disputing her as George's favorite, and notes what a cruel reality it is: "Two sisters so close in age; the more one becomes one thing, the more the other becomes the opposite." She completes her descent into self-pity by saying she's doomed forever to be The Feckless, Lost, Lesser Thing next to her saintly sister. And then she melts into a puddle of woe.
The Queen
Elizabeth tiredly points out that this is rich, considering all the time Margaret has spent telling Elizabeth that SHE is the lesser thing. "Only to give myself a moment's peace," says Margaret. Oh, child, you are SO DRAMATIC. No wonder you directed a play. Then they repeat the sentence structure: Margaret bitterly asks Elizabeth to screw up, "only to give me a future I can bear." As she leaves, Elizabeth calls out to her... to ask her whether she'll need help writing those apology notes. KABLAM.
The Corgi Meme
WHEN UR BOSS DROPS THE MIC.
The Coast
The QM, meanwhile, stands on the edge of her new property and breathes in and out, finally having found a future SHE can bear. And a coat that's got one giant leather false eyelash on the back.