The sixth and final season of The Crown is now streaming on Netflix.
From day one, Netflix’s The Crown never wavered from its goal of distilling decades of royal turmoil into riveting television for a global audience. But is its sixth and final season a worthy ending to this acclaimed depiction of Queen Elizabeth II’s time at the head of the British monarchy? Yes and no.
There is plenty that series creator Peter Morgan and his crew absolutely nail. The production design. The costumes. The lighting. The Crown’s technical aspects are as impeccable as ever, and it’s clear that great effort went into making the final season the most transportive. But Morgan is so invested in the various aspects of royal life – and the irrelevant stories branching out of them – that he seems to forget that his viewers’ investment matters, too. Too much time is spent on Prince William’s (Ed McVey) clumsy courting of Catherine Middleton (Meg Bellamy). Too much energy is spent acquainting us with Cate’s family. I could go on. The series drags on a hair too long, making any protraction, even one serving a very clear purpose, tedious and unfulfilling. The ending doesn't hit nearly as hard as it likely means to, and while it isn't completely devoid of emotion, it lacks the oomph it needed. Imelda Staunton's series-capping walk off screen is thematically sound and well shot, but it's emptier than expected.
Heading into the last season, I knew Princess Diana's death would be one of its most important threads. What I hadn't anticipated, though, was how much more powerful the lead-up was. The first three episodes largely focus on Dodi Fayed (Khalid Abdalla) and Diana (Elizabeth Debicki), and they're easily the season's best. An especially poignant scene details Dodi's proposal to Diana, who is still distraught over missing a phone call with her sons. She shoots him down immediately, but instead of initiating a falling out, her rejection allows the two to articulate their respective struggles. It's a beautifully simple moment elevated by both Debicki and Abdalla, who pull out all the stops in what turns out to be their final in-depth conversation. Dodi remains trapped in a toxic relationship with his outrageously wealthy father while Diana vocally admits how much the prospect of another marriage frightens her. These quiet, probably fictional moments help give The Crown depth and dimension, mostly because they give us an idea of just how intentional Morgan is with the liberties he takes. There are plenty of these deviations from history throughout The Crown's run, but they all serve the show's tonal aims.
The world Morgan reveals to us is perplexing by design. The only way these people save face is by putting on false ones, cramming familial conflict and discord behind veneers of composure. Most often, this manifests as public silence on matters that are causing a great deal of friction behind closed doors. Elizabeth’s refusal to attend Camilla Parker Bowles’ (Olivia Williams) 50th birthday party is just one of many examples. The consequences of these facades usually ricochet off the public and instead wreak more private, more insidious havoc. The Crown's juiciest drama feeds off of this havoc. Prince Harry’s (Luther Ford) out-of-context party photo in the series finale illustrates this perfectly. Privately, the family is fuming. But publicly? Not a peep. The way each member of the royal family has to act and think is so dramatically different from everyone else's MO that it would be a shame if Morgan didn't mine this disparity for drama.
The Crown's cast remains its best asset, a right and proper strength considering how much of its appeal (just about all of it) hinges on the dramatization and humanization of the royal family. Debicki astounds as Princess Diana, turning in a performance that exquisitely communicates her inner torment without forgetting the kindness, gentleness, and generosity that also defined the woman. The source of Diana's pain, Dominic West's Prince Charles, continues to be a compelling presence. (And that’s after West altered his performance after reading Prince Harry's memoir.)
Staunton again proves a brilliant and prudent casting choice following Claire Foy and Olivia Colman’s Emmy-winning turns as Elizabeth. A proper portrayal of the late monarch demands a strong, fierce, and layered performance that grows subtly with the character. Staunton seems to consider that the bare minimum. She satisfies these history-dictated requisites easily, cementing herself as a goddamn powerhouse. She presents to us a powerfully demure Elizabeth, a pillar of love, stability, and liberally imparted wisdom with the quiet grit and maddening clear-mindedness of a woman literally born for greatness.
Excellence aside, though, these performances don't amount to an especially stimulating viewing experience because nearly everything Morgan builds around them is irredeemably boring. Flashes of brilliance aren't enough to save The Crown from its worst habits, which is a shame because the seeds of a better final season are there. The episode “Aftermath” is a devastating and effective depiction of the grief the Royal Family felt after Diana’s death. What follows, though, is an aimless dive into the lives of Princes William and Harry. Its last few episodes feel more tangential than ever, undercutting the potency of Elizabeth’s final walk and leaving us on a “That’s it?” note.
