In recent months, creator Peter Morgan and even Netflix co-CEO Ted Sarandos have begun referring to The Crown as “a love letter to Queen Elizabeth II.” It’s a description that feels a little out of alignment with the reality of the show, if only when you consider the real-life royal family’s complicated relationship with the series. Yet, in watching the final episodes, that angle does stand out more prominently than ever before, though how the show expresses its love isn’t quite what you’d think.
Watching The Crown bid adieu this year carries more weight than the typical series finale, as it feels like one of the last shows standing from a different era of Netflix programming. The series first premiered in 2016, the same year as Stranger Things — at that point in time, Kevin Spacey was still the star of House of Cards and the platform’s corner of the Marvel universe was only getting larger thanks to the first season of Luke Cage. A January 2016 press release declared the network’s bold intention to release 31 new and returning original series that year; in 2023, coming up with a complete total is difficult given the vast amount of international series and other kinds of acquisitions, but the number is not lower than 75.
Netflix releases a lot more shows these days, but they tend not to last as long: These days, even getting to a sixth season is a rare accomplishment for a streaming series, and watching these final episodes of The Crown reveal what a shame that is. There’s a significance, a weight, that a show acquires the longer it progresses; when Season 6 indulges in a bit of nostalgia for the people these characters were in their youth, it simply hits differently than it would in a show with a shorter lifespan. That’s the beautiful thing about long-running television — at a certain point, it can become embedded in our lives, a regular ritual to look forward to.
The Crown Season 6 debuted its first four episodes last month — an unconventional split (since the season is 10 episodes long) but one that made sense on viewing, as Episodes 1-4 tackled the final weeks of the life of Princess Diana (Elizabeth Debicki), and the immediate aftermath of how her shocking death affected those left behind.
Netflix put limits on what critics are allowed to mention in their reviews of the remaining episodes, but it’s safe to say that they continue moving the story of the royal family forward, closer to the present. This means that the series is chronicling events that remain pretty clear in the memory of anyone who was alive at that moment, which proves a bit disconcerting. (Dear millennials, please be prepared to watch your own teenage years become fodder for period dramas very soon; an unavoidable consequence of this planet continuing to spin and movies and TV shows continuing to be made.)
Diana still looms large over Part 2 of Season 6 (in much the same way she still looms large in the public consciousness). However, the drama shifts in a significant way to focus on Prince William (Ed McVey), as Morgan digs hard into “Willsmania” (literally the title of Episode 5), and the particulars of William being thrust even further in the public eye.
What’s it like to be a teenage boy, coping with grief over his mother’s loss and anger at his father over it? Especially when any interest he might have in girls is complicated by an entire planet of people sending him love letters on the regular? Morgan’s answers to those questions might not necessarily align with reality (and the only person who can comment with absolute authority on the matter likely never will), but there’s no denying it’s good fodder for drama… Even if the show makes no effort to be coy about the destiny of that cute brunette in William’s art history class.
William is not Part 2’s only focus, though — there is, per Crown tradition, an episode devoted to Princess Margaret (Lesley Manville) that also offers up a charming flashback featuring her and her sister at a much younger time. Meanwhile, Prince Charles (Dominic West) and Camilla (Olivia Williams) have to contend with how Diana’s passing complicates their own relationship, and we get one last round of Queen and Prime Minster tete-a-tetes with the introduction of Tony Blair (Bertie Carvel), whose popularity is a bit disconcerting to Her Majesty.
As always, the production details remain immaculate, balancing rich details with increasingly modern touches. One amusing detail is music supervisor Sarah Bridge digging hard into pop music of the early 2000s; an instantly iconic scene features Charles aiming to connect with a distant William by proclaiming how much he likes Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn.”
And the “love letter” attitude does come out even in those moments. Sure, there’s the occasional moment of sharpness, even if it’s just poking fun at the fact that the Queen might not be familiar with concepts like “dating” and “the wacky baccy.” However, the emphasis remains not on critiquing the royals, but understanding them, with a great deal of empathy in particular for Charles and William.
The Crown (Netflix)
(The same can’t be said for Harry, played by Luther Ford, whose adolescent bad behavior gets a lot of attention. In fact, thanks largely to Harry’s antics there are a few sequences that might inadvertently trigger comparisons to Saltburn — likely unintentional, even though the black comedy was written and directed by Crown Seasons 3-4 cast member Emerald Fennell.)
Having now chronicled the life and times of the Queen and her kin from approximately 1947 to 2005, what The Crown represents, ultimately, is an intense six-season exercise in attempting to relate to a family that’s literally unlike any other on the planet. What’s made it as successful as it’s been is its deep well of empathy for these characters, even though it feels a bit impossible for anyone not born royal to understand exactly what it means to be a part of this dynasty.
Perhaps Morgan never got close to capturing the true, secret, inner self of the late Queen. But he’s spent years now trying to put us in her sensible pumps, make us wonder what it would be like to carry the weight she does. What he’s crafted is a sense of understanding her — and understanding leads to a different sort of affection than blind worship. It’s more complicated, to be sure, but it’s also richer. The Crown might not have felt like a love letter to Britain’s sovereign at the beginning of the series. It is, however, truly ending that way.
The Crown Season 6 is streaming now.