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Christopher Stevens, The Daily Mail
No one can accuse the Crown of being too subtle. As Netflix’s royal drama returns, tight close-ups of Lord Louis Mountbatten are interspersed with news broadcasts of soldiers and rioters on the streets of Belfast.
A Republican terrorist lashes out in a voiceover about British bloodshed, as Mountbatten (Charles Dance) joins the Queen at the Trooping of the Color.
Then the narrative passes to Prince Charles, meeting a teenage Lady Diana Spencer for the first time. All of this before the opening titles even kick off – at least we know what it is.
Most of the actors are elders. Olivia Colman returns as Queen, with Josh O’Connor as Charles and Helena Bonham Carter as Princess Margaret.
But all eyes are on newcomer Emma Corrin, who has the daunting task of showing us who Diana was before she became the most famous person on the planet. How is it possible, asks writer Peter Morgan, that anyone in the royal family or in the media could have imagined that this shy and inexperienced young woman was up to the international spotlight and all the duties of a future queen?
When she is first seen, she is 16 and is in costume for a school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Dressed in flowers and green leggings, she announces that she is “a crazy tree”. As Charles walks through the entrance hall of his family’s stately home, Althorp, awaiting a date with his older sister Sarah, Lady Di makes sure he notices her by walking pointedly from hiding place to hiding place. another, shouting, “ Sorry, I’m not here!
Sarah later says that her little sister “was obsessed with meeting you.”
Di does it again months later, making sure to cross paths with Charles at a show jumping event after Mountbatten’s murder by the IRA.
As the Prince simmers and sighs behind the wheel of his Aston Martin, she offers her condolences.
In this version of events, Di has a plan and executes it perfectly.
She endears herself to the Royals, which prevents Charles from avoiding marrying her.
The Queen, The Duke of Edinburgh (Tobias Menzies), Margaret, Anne, Queen Mum … all of the royals, whom Charles very improbably calls ‘the whole terrible Politburo’ – they are all dazzled by Diana.
Even the woman he loves, Mrs. Parker Bowles (Emerald Fennell), thinks he should take the plunge.
It’s a quite different story from the one painted on Monday in ITV’s The Diana Interview, which claimed the teenage bride-to-be was so in awe of her royal fiance that she called him ‘sir’ instead of using his Christian name.
Morgan was never afraid to turn his characters into caricatures, without regard for the real people who inspire his story. Maybe he thinks they don’t deserve any consideration, or that they’ve learned to ignore everything in the media. But his harshness is tough on peripheral figures such as Sarah Spencer, now McCorquodale, who is first depicted shoving Charles in a private box on the pitch and then later attempts to sabotage her sister’s chances.
The following episodes are unwavering in their portrayal of Diana’s suffering, including her bulimia. Many have “trigger warnings” that include “scenes from an eating disorder that some viewers may find disturbing.”
Before her wedding, she is seen standing in front of a palace fridge in the middle of the night, gorging herself on desserts. Then she kneels over the toilet, digging her fingers down her throat to vomit several times.
Painful fights reoccurred in Australia, during his first overseas tour with Charles and their grandson William, and in 1990 when the marriage was on the verge of irreparably collapsing. It’s brutal to watch.
This season is the only chance for Miss Corrin, 24, to give her portrayal of Diana.
When the series returns for the fifth time, it will be Elizabeth Debicki – star of The Night Manager – who will play the princess … but how long we will have to wait, given the restrictions on filming imposed by the pandemic, no one can. say.
It is also the only chance for Gillian Anderson to make her impression of Margaret Thatcher. And it’s an impression, although more like the sending Faith Brown used to do on the Mike Yarwood Show than the real Prime Minister. Anderson is constantly rocking like she’s on deck in a heavy swell – something comedians have always copied, although Maggie never did.
The Queen tries to like him, even enduring political lectures on the phone, but the final drop comes when Mrs. Thatcher arrives at Balmoral in heels and her trademark blue suit, instead of wellies and a Barbour. Apparently Her Majesty is such a snob that she can’t stand anyone who doesn’t know how to dress for a hike in the Scottish heaths.
Anderson might make a cheap impression, but Olivia Colman certainly isn’t. She looks nothing like the Queen – doesn’t look like her, doesn’t move like her, talks like her, doesn’t look like her in any way. She plays the monarch as a suburban middle-class housewife, which is doubly bizarre when the rest of the cast behave like Spitting Image puppets.
Knocking down on a gin and tonic, the queen mom shouts: “Chippety restless, down with the Nazis”. Prince Philip reacts to Mrs Thatcher’s election by complaining: “This is the last thing this country needs, two women run the store.
Denis Thatcher (Stephen Boxer) goes further: “Two postmenopausal women, it’s going to be a smooth walk.
Smooth, maybe not. But it’s definitely soapy. Despite all of its flaws, The Crown gives us what we ask of the Royal Cavalcade: nonstop drama and emotion, shrouded in a fairytale.
Whether it’s a glimpse of Philip behind his steel facade, drunkenly accusing his son of poaching Mountbatten’s fatherly affection, or of Margaret at her most appalling as she scolds Ms T for being ‘ commune ”, this series never fails to show us the royal family as we love to imagine them … “whatever the love”.
Ed Power, The Independent
Olivia Colman, as queen, puts on a noticeably restrained performance. The Crown is apparently a long exploration of Elizabeth’s eight decades on the throne.
Here she largely serves as a substitute for the audience, as does the excellent Prince Phillip of Tobias Menzies. Colman is perfectly content to sit down and take everything into account. This is all the more true as Anderson’s Thatcher makes his entry. She is a force of nature, as you would expect. And yet, something initially seems a little disappointing about the X-Files star’s inclination towards the most controversial prime minister of the time.
Terri White, Empire
The scenes between Anderson and Colman, tense between them, are some of the best in The Crown’s history … The other half of the series is devoted to the woman who, along with Thatcher, most defined the ’80s in Great Britain: Princess Diana (Emma Corrin).
It was arguably a more difficult casting and performance task. Diana was the most photographed woman in the world …
Emma Corrin has youth, innocence, sweetness yet to curdle. But unlike Anderson in the role of Thatcher, you can never lose the feeling that she is playing Diana; the real Princess of Wales spotted in moments and obscured by mimicry in others
Katie Rosseinsky, The Evening Standard
At number 10, Anderson’s Iron Lady initially feels like The Crown’s answer to Gollum with her hunched posture (heavy is the head that wears the wig) and a voice that squeals and twists on every syllable. It might seem odd for an actor of his subtlety to try something as large as life – but a big part of Thatcher’s personality was the performance. It was the woman who called on Laurence Olivier’s vocal trainer to help him slide his natural register into something more hoarse and more authoritative.
Lewis Knight, the mirror
Newcomer Emma Corrin takes on the demanding task of playing a global icon, but she manages to capture Diana’s voice and manners with precision far beyond her years, which makes her character’s rise tragic. towards fame all the more credible.
Meanwhile, despite new episodes showing Prince Charles at his meanest and most selfish, actor Josh O’Connor imbues the Prince of Wales with soul and sensitivity in order to leave a vestige of sympathy for the heir to the throne. even as his relationship with Diana becomes all the more toxic.
Caroline Framke, Variety
For four seasons now, Morgan has been writing a remarkably addicting and stealthily silly royal soap opera that only occasionally understands how obvious it can be. And yet, complemented by razor-sharp performances and boasting the most luxurious set design Netflix’s money can be, The Crown has successfully sold as one of television’s most serious dramas. The fourth season, in all its shameless glory, may be its most successful yet, though it puts that glamorous perception to bed. After all, as “The Crown” reminds us with every dizzying turn of Diana’s woes, the enraged audience of the Royal Family will always take the drama onto a more human reality.
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