[7.6/10] If the finale of the first season of The Crown was about how the Queen’s individuality had been subsumed, and all that was left is The Crown, then the premiere of its second season is about how, whatever regal institutions Elizabeth may represent, she is still a human being.
Even someone unflappable, distinguished, otherwise trained to betray no hint of emotion no matter the context, is shaken by the practical confirmation that her husband had an affair. Theirs has been a challenging marriage, one filled with duties and demands that, as Elizabeth herself acknowledges in a tense opening scene, are not what they envisioned when they wed. But that doesn’t make the pain different, the shock more tolerable, to discover that Philip has been stepping out.
The structure of the episode delivers that idea well. The opening scene gives us the fallout, with a couple clearly angry and unhappy with one another, hashing out what it would mean, and what I would take, for them to continue on. We see them, in many ways, at their lowest point speaking frankly about what went wrong.
And yet, from there, the episode takes suss back five months earlier and shows what brought them together in the first place. In truth, it doesn’t necessarily track with the end to season 1, which already displayed a certain amount of distance between them. Nonetheless, I love how the episode zeroes in on cute little moments between them, a stolen kiss on the neck before an official function, an attempt at royal nookie short circuited by the entry of the staff, even the discovery of the affair is prompted by Elizabeth attempting a kind surprise for her husband on his trip. You see Elizabeth and Philip as cute and playful, with the sort of natural give-and-take and sporting chemistry that lets you understand why they were attracted to one another.
Ssos it hurts more when Elizabeth finds the little picture of her husband’s likely conquest. I have to say, what a showcase for Claire eFoy this one is. Early on, Elizabeth tells Philip that she’d never felt more alone than in the months after the discovery, and it’s not hard to see why. She is The Queen. There are very few people she can talk to about such a monumental yet personal betrayal, one that would sully the dignity of her station.
So she’s left to stew and hurt and keep up appearances Her distracted eyes when talking to the Prime Minister, her awkward air about Philip himself when bidding him goodbye, her discomfort around her sister when the subject comes up, and the almost hyperventilating she does when seeing his mistress perform ballet all convey the inner turmoil she’s going through with no outlets for her emotions, and allow Foy to make a meal out of the performance.
The other major thing in this one is the Egyptians seizing the Suez Canal and sidling up to the Russians, spurring a humiliated Anthony Eden to want to go to war, ostensibly, to secure peace in the region, but more likely, to shore up his own standing domestically and help him escape his predecessor’s shadow.
There’s interesting ideas there. This show isn’t always great about political drama. It tends to be more set dressing than a deep exploration of the issues. To the point, there’s worthwhile notions about the growing conflicts between Russia and the West in proxy battles for influence and resources like Egypt. The balance of power of the Middle East with Israel crossing the border amid the fight among world powers adds an interesting dimension. And between Eden’s speech at Eaton being interrupted by the news and his choice to bypass the U.N., I could swear “Misadventures” was trying to parallel George W. Bush here.
But really, the show tends to work better as a personal drama, and doesn’t go especially deep on any of these topics. It’s more interesting to see Eden feel stymied, to represent a self-admittedly narrow slice of the social strata that he implies is superior only to find himself subject to the same faults and capriciousness that he might accuse less decorated members of society of. The idea that he’s personally affronted by the Egyptian President Nasser, and that’s driving him as much as anything is an interesting angle, even if I’m not sure where the show’s going with him here, either via his reaction to the conflict or his growing problems of addiction.
What unites the two disparate parts of the episode is, somewhat surprisingly, Dickie Mountbatten, Philip’s uncle and someone who has connections with skeptical corners of the cabinet. He’s the one who uses back channel connections to implore Elizabeth to intervene on the cusp of war, scope out what Anthony’s true motivations are, and use her position to advance the interests of national security.
But he’s also there to give her perspective on the marital conflict too. Much like Elizbeth’s own uncle did, he’s been through this, after a fashion. His speech to Elizabeth about being humiliated himself given his wife’s indiscretions, about marrying a wild spirit that can't be tamed, about realizing you adore and love someone enough to tolerate even the gravest of “misadventures” is an interesting perspective, and one that comes from the other side off the gender divide in a way we don't often see.
There are parts of Philip worth hanging onto. We get glimpses of Mike, Philip's private secretary and running buddy, being a total shit to help draw out the idea that, whatever his faults, Philip isn't so bad. He does care for his wife, unlike Mike, even if he views the expectations of being a royal as a prison. He tells Charles that the cameras are off and so he wants a hug, while Mike forgets to call on his daughter's birthday. The guy has problems, and the show’s acknowledged that from the beginning. But it also goes to great lengths to show why there may still be parts of who he is that make him worth hanging onto, even if it means shaving to ask “What will it take?” for him to stay invested in the marriage.
It is, like much of The Crown’s best work, a very human question, of whether you can love someone enough to forgive them their worst flaws, or even make room for them. In the catty conversation with Margaret, Elizabaeth says that she supported the marriage to Townsend as a sister, but that “The Crown” forbade it. The monarchy may erect a wall around Elizabeth, it may turn her into a vessel for a greater institution, but it’s nice to see, from a storytelling perspective and a human perspective, that she can still think, feel, and react as a regular human being, even if it takes a damning betrayal to prove it.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2023-08-06T20:19:08Z
[7.6/10] If the finale of the first season of The Crown was about how the Queen’s individuality had been subsumed, and all that was left is The Crown, then the premiere of its second season is about how, whatever regal institutions Elizabeth may represent, she is still a human being.
Even someone unflappable, distinguished, otherwise trained to betray no hint of emotion no matter the context, is shaken by the practical confirmation that her husband had an affair. Theirs has been a challenging marriage, one filled with duties and demands that, as Elizabeth herself acknowledges in a tense opening scene, are not what they envisioned when they wed. But that doesn’t make the pain different, the shock more tolerable, to discover that Philip has been stepping out.
The structure of the episode delivers that idea well. The opening scene gives us the fallout, with a couple clearly angry and unhappy with one another, hashing out what it would mean, and what I would take, for them to continue on. We see them, in many ways, at their lowest point speaking frankly about what went wrong.
And yet, from there, the episode takes suss back five months earlier and shows what brought them together in the first place. In truth, it doesn’t necessarily track with the end to season 1, which already displayed a certain amount of distance between them. Nonetheless, I love how the episode zeroes in on cute little moments between them, a stolen kiss on the neck before an official function, an attempt at royal nookie short circuited by the entry of the staff, even the discovery of the affair is prompted by Elizabeth attempting a kind surprise for her husband on his trip. You see Elizabeth and Philip as cute and playful, with the sort of natural give-and-take and sporting chemistry that lets you understand why they were attracted to one another.
Ssos it hurts more when Elizabeth finds the little picture of her husband’s likely conquest. I have to say, what a showcase for Claire eFoy this one is. Early on, Elizabeth tells Philip that she’d never felt more alone than in the months after the discovery, and it’s not hard to see why. She is The Queen. There are very few people she can talk to about such a monumental yet personal betrayal, one that would sully the dignity of her station.
So she’s left to stew and hurt and keep up appearances Her distracted eyes when talking to the Prime Minister, her awkward air about Philip himself when bidding him goodbye, her discomfort around her sister when the subject comes up, and the almost hyperventilating she does when seeing his mistress perform ballet all convey the inner turmoil she’s going through with no outlets for her emotions, and allow Foy to make a meal out of the performance.
The other major thing in this one is the Egyptians seizing the Suez Canal and sidling up to the Russians, spurring a humiliated Anthony Eden to want to go to war, ostensibly, to secure peace in the region, but more likely, to shore up his own standing domestically and help him escape his predecessor’s shadow.
There’s interesting ideas there. This show isn’t always great about political drama. It tends to be more set dressing than a deep exploration of the issues. To the point, there’s worthwhile notions about the growing conflicts between Russia and the West in proxy battles for influence and resources like Egypt. The balance of power of the Middle East with Israel crossing the border amid the fight among world powers adds an interesting dimension. And between Eden’s speech at Eaton being interrupted by the news and his choice to bypass the U.N., I could swear “Misadventures” was trying to parallel George W. Bush here.
But really, the show tends to work better as a personal drama, and doesn’t go especially deep on any of these topics. It’s more interesting to see Eden feel stymied, to represent a self-admittedly narrow slice of the social strata that he implies is superior only to find himself subject to the same faults and capriciousness that he might accuse less decorated members of society of. The idea that he’s personally affronted by the Egyptian President Nasser, and that’s driving him as much as anything is an interesting angle, even if I’m not sure where the show’s going with him here, either via his reaction to the conflict or his growing problems of addiction.
What unites the two disparate parts of the episode is, somewhat surprisingly, Dickie Mountbatten, Philip’s uncle and someone who has connections with skeptical corners of the cabinet. He’s the one who uses back channel connections to implore Elizabeth to intervene on the cusp of war, scope out what Anthony’s true motivations are, and use her position to advance the interests of national security.
But he’s also there to give her perspective on the marital conflict too. Much like Elizbeth’s own uncle did, he’s been through this, after a fashion. His speech to Elizabeth about being humiliated himself given his wife’s indiscretions, about marrying a wild spirit that can't be tamed, about realizing you adore and love someone enough to tolerate even the gravest of “misadventures” is an interesting perspective, and one that comes from the other side off the gender divide in a way we don't often see.
There are parts of Philip worth hanging onto. We get glimpses of Mike, Philip's private secretary and running buddy, being a total shit to help draw out the idea that, whatever his faults, Philip isn't so bad. He does care for his wife, unlike Mike, even if he views the expectations of being a royal as a prison. He tells Charles that the cameras are off and so he wants a hug, while Mike forgets to call on his daughter's birthday. The guy has problems, and the show’s acknowledged that from the beginning. But it also goes to great lengths to show why there may still be parts of who he is that make him worth hanging onto, even if it means shaving to ask “What will it take?” for him to stay invested in the marriage.
It is, like much of The Crown’s best work, a very human question, of whether you can love someone enough to forgive them their worst flaws, or even make room for them. In the catty conversation with Margaret, Elizabaeth says that she supported the marriage to Townsend as a sister, but that “The Crown” forbade it. The monarchy may erect a wall around Elizabeth, it may turn her into a vessel for a greater institution, but it’s nice to see, from a storytelling perspective and a human perspective, that she can still think, feel, and react as a regular human being, even if it takes a damning betrayal to prove it.