Wolf Hall- The Mirror and the Light: Jenneke

 "You're going to bring them down? The oldest and richest familes in the land?"

"Like skittles!"

It's redundant, by now, for me to point out that any given episode of Wolf Hall, this one most certainly included, is a televisual masterpiece. But I seem to have done so anyway. Yes, big things are happening- the birth of a son for the king, the tragic, negligent death of Jane, the peace between King Francis and Charles V and the dangers posed to England. And yet this series ais about Thomas Cromwell, and this is where his position starts to slip.

Oh, he finds happiness in Jenneke, the lovely daughter of whom he's just learned... yet he is loving, good, tender and fatherly, a good man. In stark contrast to the things which Dorothea said to him, things that have truly shaken to him and, as we often see, haunt his nightmares. He doubts himself, wonders if he betrayed Wolsey after all, knowingly or not, and confesses himself "undone".

Jane's death upsets him deeply, more so than his tyrant king, play-acting at mourning. And Stephen Gardiner is back, with the ear of the king, pushing him against "heresy". Cromwell, baring his soul to Archbishop Cranmer, begins to despair that all he's done to bring Protestantism to England may perhaps be for naught. And Gardiner (Alex Jennings a worthy successor to Mark Gatiss) is an insidious foe, one in the ascendant.

He is getting nowhere with the Poles. He clashes with the Duke of Norfolk, ironically in defence of Wolsey and the old ways. His influence with Mary is diminished. 

All hope rests in an alliance with the German princes, and a new bride from Cleves. We know the history here, of course. Yet this episode gives us a much deeper context in which Cromwell is already losing ground.

As Cromwell's vaunted ambassador to Charles V, Thomas Wyatt, would say... circa regna tonat.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 10- Mystery Man

“You are a mystery man to me.”

It’s a bit of a jump forward to 1962, and this episode covers two years of time, but then again this is the last outing with this wonderful cast. I think we would be churlish to begrudge them at least one episode where, although there’s no swinging as yet, it is at least beginning to feel like the Sixties.

This is, as ever, a dense and thought-provoking episode, hinging on the Profumo scandal but not so much about it as riffing on it. Most obviously, there’s the unresolved question of whether the “mystery man” photographed at one of Stephen Ward’s parties is Philip or not, his increased absences at house parties and the like, and the question of whether he is playing away. It’s left ambiguous, even after the wonderfully acted confrontation scene near the end when the Queen shows him the locket he saw in his case all those years ago- and we still are left none the wiser. This kind of ambiguity is probably wise.

We also get a good sense of how social mores are changing- the satire boom is in full swing and Beyond the Fringe (if you haven’t seen it, do so; it’s extraordinary) mocks the establishment in new ways, and Macmillan’s humiliation as he watches it in stage is nicely juxtaposed with the pompously conservative, snobbish and implicitly homophobic prosecution speech at Stephen Ward’d trial, leading to his suicide- exactly the kind of vicious arrogance that needed doing away with. It was this, rather than particularly Macmillan, that needed to be swept away.

Speaking of Macmillan, this series has not been kind to him. I’m no Tory, but I’d say he’s the best peacetime Tory prime minister of the twentieth century- moderate, sensibly centrist in his opinions, a steady hand with colonialism. Yes, his resignation was more due to being fed up with it all than his ill health, but I’ve no doubt six years as PM is exhausting. The Queen’s rant at him for being a quitter here is uncalled for, but I suppose the point is that she doesn’t have the luxury of resignation. It’s an interesting scene to include.

We end with a new royal birth and a kind of deconstructed mise en scene as Cecil Beaton takes another photograph to end a second superb season. I’ll be blogging the next season very soon indeed.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 8- Dear Mrs. Kennedy

"What are they doing?"

"Had to say. I believe it's the foxtrot."

It's getting almost predictable that I'm declaring each episode of The Crown in turn to be a superb piece of telly. I'm rather afraid I'm having to do so again.

This episode is a particularly strong example of what this episode does so well- the seamless mix of geopolitics and the history of the twentieth century with very real characterisation and psychological acuity. In this episode there's a lot of ten dimensional chess going on as the winds of change blow and former European (particularly British) colonies, especially in Africa) are made independent. Yet the episode begins with a foregrounding of how this is playing out in a Cold War context, with the Soviets ready to swoop. We see the Queen's portrait being removed and replaced with that of Lenin- replacing one symbol of European imperialism with another.

We also see the British cultural cringe- even that of royalty- to the glamour of Camelot, as President Kennedy and the dazzling Jackie visit, seeming to outshine the Queen, And, while she and Jackie seem to connect, it seems  that Mrs Kennedy is unimpressed with Elizabeth, who is hardly an intellectual.

And yet... the Queen may not know who wrote Tartuffe, but her life is full of complex diplomatic decisions. And the episode centres on an outside-the-box diplomatic masterstroke, keeping President Nkrumah close to the West by allowing herself to be seen dancing the foxtrot with him in a masterful display of soft power.

We also, in a nice little coda, see the truth behind the Camelot glamour in Kennedy's illness, his philandering and... well, I'm not sure how factual the domestic abuse is, or the exact nature of the drugs administered to the First Couple. But the connection between the two women is nice to see, and the reaction to Kennedy's assassination tasteful.

I'm not sure I'd be gushing so much if the Kennedys were the central figures here- my impression of the historical Jack, despite the philandering, is that he was a much nicer chap than portrayed here, and Michael C. Hall is simply miscast. But I can't deny that this is, once again, bloody good.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 7- Matrimonium

"As in art, so, it would appear, in life..."

Again we have a Margaret episode and, again, there is much subtlety and character development. Like ast episode, the plot is simple; Margaret is to marry Tony who, we now see, is sectretly carrying on polyamorous relationships with both sexes and, moreover, is rather more damaged than he might appear. Yet Elizabeth, even after hearing the truth from Tommy Lascelles- again brought out of retirement to do what Michael cannot- is unable, after what happened with Peter Townsend, to say no. And the baby to whom she gives birth here will one day be mixed up with sexual doings that are a thousand times worse.

The episode abounds, as ever, with lovely character moments on which we can dwell as we hope that Margaret won't get hurt. The scene between Margaret and Elizabeth at the end is fascinating- Margaret wants freedom and independence, and is marrying this man as part of that. Yet she, unlike the Queen, enjos the titles and the deference and will never give up those things- a necessary precondition for any royal to break free of their life sentence in a gilded cage.

We get an outburst from Philip, last season a victim of snobbery himself, yet looking down on Tony who, unlike hilself, is not the grandson of a king and a prince in his own right. Fascinatingly, we learn that the womanising Tony is the son of a vaguely neglectful mother who left his commoner father to marry an earl, and his younger half-brother outranks him- until he marries Margaret. Deliciously, we hear this as Tony, along with the Frys with whom he is having a bisexual menage a trois, watches the results of the 1959 election as Supermac crushes all before him in a country that has never had it so good.

It is also jarring to see Macmillan lead the Cabinet in prayer upon hearing of the royal baby. 1959 was a different world, albeit a changing one, more religious than ours on the surface- but perhaps not much deeper than that; and where conservative social mores on the surface are not applied to the discreet elite.

A superb hour of drama, as always.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 6- Vergangenheit

"He's shouting, darling. Only zealots shout."

This is, perhaps, the finest episode so far, and rich in its themes of duty and (not narrowly religious)  faith.

It's obvious to those of us with vague knowledge of the Duke of Windsor's wartime activites that the two plot threads- David's desire to return from exile and do some useful work to free him from a life of empty decadence versus the looming forced publication of secret wartime papers linked to the toyals and, as we see in the flashback with George VI, are a source of great shame- are linked. And so the overall plot, as Elizabeth learns the full truth (perhaps) from Tommy Lascelles and ultimately exiles him forever, plays out superbly, with excellent dramatic beats and superb characterisation throughout.

Except the episode is even better than that. There are so many superb touches, from Tommy Lascelles preciousness with his miniature troops (the geek), to the quote above- given the wider themes of the episode, is the Queen Mother comparing Billy Graham to Hitler, as least in the limited sense that demagoguery is not a good thing? Yet the presence of Graham here- and the Queen's interest in him- provide a contrast between the dutiful and deeply conscientious Christian sovereign and the life of empty luxury and fundamental tackiness led by her flighty uncle in Paris. We last see Elizabeth kneeling in prayer, while we last see David giving a look of profound alienation as he suffers yet another party. Alex Jennings is superb here.

The first scene between Elizabeth and Graham is superb, too. I'm not someone capable of faith myself (show me empiiacal proof that God exists and I'll believe, but don't just tell me there's an invisible man who lives in the sky and not expect a raised eyebrow) but the desire of the Head of the Church of England to be a "simple Christian" is touching. Although nowhere near as good as the revelation that Phil has been getting bladdered with the Queen Mum and Tommy Lascelles.

Is what Tommy Lascelles says about Edward VIII literally true? I'm sure to a large extent it is, but in full? Was David significantly worse than his brother for hob-nobbing with Nazis in the 1930s, when the Holocaust was unsuspected but it was already clear Hitler was a cruel dictator, whatever sympathies one may have had for Germany after Versailles? I'm no expert. But this is a supetlative hour of telly.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 5- Marionettes

“Goodness, a constitutional crisis!"

A quietly excellent episode this time, artfully exploring somewhat abstract constitutional issues while nevertheless functioning as drama. And John Heffernan is superb as a peer(!) who throws a grenade on to the institution of monarchy in order to save it in a world where, after all, where monarchies were once the rule and republics the exception, we now live in a world where the reverse is the case.

Lord Altrincham's opinions reflect, interestingly, a time where any criticism of the monarchy was seen as heretical and republicanism was unthinkable. Today we are, I think, more open-minded, and not necessarily to the monarchy's detriment. Like many, I am a republican in the abstract. My ideal state would of course be a republic; that a head of state should be elected is a no-brainer. But we do not, of course, live in the abstract; we live in a particular time and place. And I for one do not believe, here in the UK in 2020, that our current generation of politicians has either the integrity or the constitutional literacy to make such a radical change and the monarchy is, in contrast to the damage that may be done, eminently preferable. I'm the St Augustine of republicans- give me a republic, but not yet.

Yet there are troubling issues- of snobbery, of the diminished but inevitable presence of divine right in a secular world, of the disconnect between the actual job of being a head of state who is "above" politics and the actual history of royalty, represented by the Queen Mother here in her dolefully reactionary "marionettes" speech near the end. These issues are hinted at by Lord Altrincham- a character who comes across rather well, both overall and while being interviewed by Bertie Carvel as a superb Robin Day- but he seeks not to destroy the institution, but to save it, as comes across in the dramatically effective but probably apocyphal chat with Elizabeth herself.

What is perhaps clear is just how out-of-touch the old breed of courtier has become, as seen with the dreadful speech Elizabeth is given. Things must change, so that they may stay the same.

In other news, Margaret is shagging Tony. This is superb stuff as ever.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 3- Lisbon

“One always has to accept one’s own part, I believe, in any mess.”

This is a very cleverly structured episode, both in itself and as part of the season. We return, of course, to the Lisbon flash forward where the season began, whet the two plot threads- Eden’s resignation and the climax of the Parker divorce case revelation in the media and the confrontation between Elizabeth and Philip. It’s masterfully done: the train steaming inexorably towards Sandringham for Eden to suffer his drive of shame before resigning is also a symbol of what awaits Philip.

Yet Elizabeth remains, somehow, constitutionally above it all. Eden may try to rationalise things to himself, and to claim that he’s resigning from ill health and not because he’s just been- to use an anachronism- Thatchered by his Cabinet. Macmillan may try and downplay his past support for the Suez misadventure, but the Queen is not unaware. And nor is she unaware of the underlying reasons for Philip’s “restlessness”- again, the question of his possible adultery is left open- or, indeed, unfeeling, whatever the stiff upper lip exterior may show. Claire Foy is utterly sublime here.

The solution- upgrading Phil to a Prince and a crackdown on moustaches- seems unlikely to work. We shall see. Further kids are on the way, the less said about the first of them the better, but Mike is perceptive, in his parting chat with Phil, on the underlying tension between a monarch and their eldest son, who represents their personal extinction.

There is an awful lot going on here- echoes of the Iraq War, but one where the protests claim their scalp; Tommy Lascelles coming back from retirement for a crisis; the Queen and Eileen having a woman to woman talk. The obvious respect both PM’s have for Elizabeth- and her perceptive comments to Eden on how doing nothing is often the wisest course, but not one that may appeal to those wishing themselves to be great men. This is a clever, clever bit of telly.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 2- A Company of Men

“Men are expected to indulge...”

This is a very, very courageous piece of telly and I’m surprised the subject matter didn’t arouse more controversy at the time. Again, Philip isn’t shown to have been having an affair during his five month tour of the Commonwealth (or indeed previously), but it is implied that he may have been a little naughty- as Eileen, Mike Parker’s disgruntled wife, tells us, the five month trip looks awfully like a very long stag night.

Meanwhile Elizabeth remains at home- calm, unflappable, far too stiff upper lip to allow her feelings to be visible- much as Sir Anthony Eden, humiliated by the Suez debacle, appears to be having a physical and mental breakdown as the drugs no longer work. But this is not an episode for geopolitics, much as Lord Mountbatten may scheme- he’s an interesting character.

But a large portion of the episode, expensive looking at that, is given over to Philip’s hi-jinks, interspersed with the odd speech and the occasional Olympics to open. There’s a very symbolic scene in which he rings Elizabeth from the other side of the world but the line is terrible- as ever, they aren’t communicating. But most fascinating is the journalist interviewing Philip in which we are reminded of his traumatic childhood, where revolution in Greece led to parental abandonment and breakdown- and the awkward fact of his Nazi sisters.

We finish with Philip having a long night of the soul, and a family reconciliation of sorts. But, as the start of last episode shows, there are still difficulties to come. The spiralling scandal of Mike and Eileen’s divorce threatens to expose Philip and the tension is palpable. This is good drama, although I’m glad we do t have those stupid lese-majeste laws they have in Thailand. And Matt Smith, in particular, is superb.

The Crown: Season 2, Episode 1- Misadventure

“A prison...?"

It's been years since I saw the first season so this is long overdue. In my defence, there's so much telly to see and blog. But I'm reminded, after this first episode of what I can hardly call the new season, that this is a bloody good programme. And both Claire Foy and Matt Smith excel as ever- as does Jeremy Northam as an increasingly tragic Sir Anthony Eden beneath the apparent patrician poise.

Foy is superb at conveying the deep yet necessarily restrained emotions of a Sovereign, not free to be a person, as her marriage seems to be falling apart, yet divorce is not an option and neither, it seems, is happiness. Monarchy is a gilded cage, and not a humane one. Yet Smith also successfully walks a tigtrope, remaining likeable as an emasculated yet childish paragon of toxic masculinity chafing at his traditionally feminine role and, it's implied, having affairs- although this, I suspect, will never be more than implied. I suspect the picture of a woman found by Elizabeth in his bag will have an innocent explanation, but there are definite hints at infidelity. Their marriage is in trouble.

But can royals ever be happy, or human? The institution is cruel. Look at Margaret, now a careless drunk after being denied happiness last season. Royalty means privilege, comfort and no freedom whatsoever. There are plenty of reminders here of the snobbery that surrounds it. Any debate on the monarchy would always be won by republicans as a no-brainer. And yet, what should we have instead? Do we, in populist 2020, trust our venal politicians with any major constitutional reform?

But the Establishment (a very '50s word) goes beyond this. We first see Eden addressing Eton, hia alma mater, as the sixteenth out of forty prime ministers to have been an Old Etonian. It reminds us that even the sensibly, centrist, Welfare State-supporting Tories of the Butskellite decades were still Tories and not, alas, Whigs, accepting change and reform only as far as they needed to survive.

This is a fascinating mix of themes, of the personal and the political, which are of course profoundly intermingled. Again, I'm hooked.

We see the Suez slowly unfolding in Egypt, to the concern of pretty much everyone, and scenes of the Canal being invaded by British and French troops are juxtaposed with Eden popping pills.

The Crown: Season 1, Episode 10- Gloriana

"You have more freedom than any consort in history. And you repay it by scowling and sulking like an adolescent."

As ever, the title of the episode is clever. It's interesting to consider it alongside the final scene, with Elizabeth dressed up all regal and told to be Elizabeth Regina, most definitely not Elizabeth Windsor. This is both the theme and the tragedy of both the episode and the series.

Elizabeth Windsor has her interests- keeping her husband happy with the man she loves and maintaining a happy marriage with her increasingly petulant husband (Phil ends the series being increasingly unlikeable, beastly to both Elizabeth and Charles without sufficient motivation). But it's in the interests of Elizabeth Regina to ruin all this in the name of a glorious yet powerless monarchy and an uncaring Church which seems to exist only to cruelly police people's sex lives. What happens to Margaret and Peter is unspeakably cruel and I can see how Margaret sees the chance to renounce her titles as a liberation- the chains may be made of gold but to be royal is to be enslaved, with no agency, privacy, dignity or power.

And it stays with you. In a powerful scene a desperate Elizabeth asks for advice from her uncle David, the only person alive who knows how she feels- and for once he drops the cynical mask and speaks honestly; there is no escape from these conflicts between person and monarch, not even abdication. These are complex, abstract themes, handled well in a strong finale.

There's another strand to the episode, though. The new PM, Sir Anthony Eden, at first seems much younger and more vigorous than his predecessor, but we gradually see the pills he's taking, the pain he's in and, in the final scene, the recreational drugs he's injecting; is he any more fit for the job than his predecessor was? The trippy final scene makes it clear that Suez is coming.  This veteran foreign secretary has been reduced to a drug-addicted shadow of a man just when it's all about to kick off.

Wolf Hall: Episode 4- The Devil's Spit

"You think I keep you for the charm of your person? I keep you because you are a serpent!"

The King's dejected response to the birth of his daughter is perfect: "Call her Elizabeth. Cancel the jousts." Anne Boleyn is now Queen but under real pressure to produce a son. Power is slipping away from her with every month's delay, and she reacts by lashing out at enemies perceived and real. The "bastard" Princess Mary must become a servant to her daughter. Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher have disrespected her, and therefore must die. She is becoming increasingly shrill and unpleasant.

Cromwell is circumspect with her, but notably more distant, and here we have the first vague rumours of affairs.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Barton is interrogated, compromising many powerful people, many of whom have offended Cromwell by crowing about his "low birth". Chips on shoulders can be very dangerous things. I'm not sure, four episodes in, that this series is quite as good as its reputation, although I may be a little jaded by popular culture's obsession with the reign of Henry VIII to the exclusion of all other English history. But the economy of storytelling, through pithy dialogue and through meaningful silences, impresses.

Cromwell delights, too, in informing More of the oath he will be made to take, an oath that will prove his downfall. This is, of course, revenge; revenge for those of Cromwell's secret persuasion whom More has tortured and killed, including, as we know, a good friend. This is a darker side to Cromwell, much darker, yet Rylance ensures that he still has our sympathies. 

Away from the main plot, we have a disturbing detail: the Duke of Norfolk has a new wife. He "won't leave her alone", and she's a child of fourteen. This is deliberately horrifying, reminding us that much of the world is still like this.

Anton Lesser, whatever I've said in the recent past, is superb here. He cuts a sympathetic person in his willingness to die for his conscience, and Lesser communicates this brilliantly in his delivery of simple, emotive lines like "Will I see my daughter again?" And yet in doing this he abandons his wife and daughters, all of whom have signed the oath, to an uncertain future.

And Cromwell will not let him, or us, forget that this man is a mass torturer and murderer of "heretics".

More's violent death is not directly shown- we cut from his head on the block to "It's the prayer book he had with him at the end"- but he's gone, now. The spotlight turns on Anne, who has miscarried, and now Cromwell appears to be seriously ill...

This is a well-written, acted and directed drama. And yet... a certain spark of greatness seems so far to be missing.