Skip to main content

"The Crown"

 It seems strange for Peter Morgan to retell the story of "The Queen," via "The Crown." Poor Imelda Staunton has to compete with Helen Mirren's iconic performance--and she has to do this with a less polished script, in a tighter span of storytelling time. Morgan has lost interest in Tony Blair, I guess, so the Blair speeches get re-purposed as Prince Charles speeches. (Also, some of the Tony Blair work gets pawned off on Princess Diana's ghost!)


One thing I liked was Morgan's interest in William and Harry (who are basically missing from the movie).

We know that these kids have affection for their mom; we see this in an early scene, as the three drive around, listening to "Tubthumping." Diana pours ice down her older son's back; William (somewhat implausibly) mocks a grown man's choice of clothing. (In a little conspiracy-of-two, William and Diana laugh about Dodi's moccasins). In another nice choice, Diana affectionately teases William about having been "blooded" after the killing of a stag; it's clear that the ritual repels Diana, but because she loves her son, she can enjoy a vicarious sense of his own excitement.

It's these early scenes that help to add weight to the death of Diana. The post mortem "cranky Prince Philip" speeches don't captivate me--because I've already heard these speeches, via James Cromwell, in "The Queen." But I like the minute in which William silently eavesdrops on a conversation between his grandparents; William is understandably enraged that he needs to make a public show of mourning, "for the good of the people." It's also intriguing that he disappears, for fifteen hours, in the wilds of Scotland.

I'm eager for Part Two, and I'll have my eyes on William and Harry.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more