Netflix, Imperialism and Islamophobia
After all the media turmoil about season 5 of The Crown, the cat is officially out of the bag. With all the panic about favoring fiction over facts or the moral and emotional damage to the Royal Family and debates on casting Elizabeth Debicki, equally intriguing issues remain out of focus. Though in my opinion, they should be at the forefront. Outshadowed by the all-too-familiar story between Charles, Diana and Camilla, there’s an another significant plotline that enters the narrative in season 5: the Al-Fayed family and Sydney Johnson’s ties to the English aristocracy.
Though the story has formally moved into the 1990s, there’s something thorougly Victorian about it: the downright patronising, elitist and less than subtly racist class system that’s portrayed like an English country club. It equally effects lower-rank and very rich outsiders.
Mohamed Al-Fayed, a wealthy Egyptian investor, is determined to be accepted in Europe’s highest social echelons, so he goes to Paris with the intent to purchase the Ritz Hotel. The meeting with the owner goes increasingly sour when Fayed is faced with reluctance and rejection full of subtle islamophobia. It’s not his money that isn’t good enough- it’s his skin color, his background and his faith. A threat to an important cultural landmark, until they finally back down and we see that national identity can be reduced to prestige with a pricetag.
The other man shedding a light on shallow prejudices comes from the opposite side of the spectrum. He’s not a tycoon but a black butler fired because of potentially scaring away wealthy patrons at the Ritz. Johnson, originally from the Bahamas, served the exiled Edward VIII for 30 years. The differences between the two men couldn’t be bigger.
However, Johnson has something more valuable than the fabled Ritz: experience and access to the royal court. At least the one that Edward and Wallis created for themselves in Paris. Once his former boss is alerted to this, he changes his mind and the two men create a genuine bond that would last till the end of Johnson’s life. It’s a narrative full of twists that show the full spectrum of human hypocrisy, pretense and opportunism.
Just like Wallis Simpson dismissed Johnson after he was no longer needed, Fayed initially dismissed him due to his own ignorance. Which reaffirms the fact that’s as true today as it was back then. Discrimination is first and foremost about economic hierarchy, everything else is window dressing.
Even the snubbed can snub others, no one is entirely immune to snobbery. Johnson is depicted as an ally rather than a victim, even if he basically spent his life tending to the needs and whims of rich white people. We don’t pity him, which is a rare privilege for people of his ranking. After all, monarchies are all about ranking.
The new season surprisingly makes you want to explore the complex system known as “downstairs” from other popular shows like Downton Abbey: equerries, valets, footmen, ladies-in-waiting. The symbiotic nature of their relationship is the foundation on which the bedrock of aristocracy is built, since they rely on staff to keep up the image of grandeur and authority. If you have to wash your own dishes, you don’t have time for ribbon-cutting after all. Though both require gloves.
Intended or not, minorities in the English class system are the unlikely pink elephant in the new season of The Crown: from a black butler and an Egyptian millionaire to Martin Bashir and Hasnat Khan. It’s not necessarily contextualised like a romantic preference of the late princess, rather like a bond between outsiders trying to find footing in a system that refuses to be inclusive and supportive. Eventually the Fayeds manage to buy their way into the royal box at Ascot but instead of the Queen, they have to make do with Diana standing in for her. This is where the ball starts rolling and we all know where it leads to.
She’s looking for emotional consolation outside with people like the Khan. Unfortunately, Humayun Saeed’s clumsy vibe suggests a Mexican taxi driver rather than a sucessful heart surgeon. Maybe it’s the (fake) moustache or the gut, but it certainly doesn’t help. Bashir is portrayed like an ambitious journalist determined to succeed even if it means having to play with fire. Or in this case, forge bank statements. When Diana expresses doubts about their plan, he plays the identity card to fool her into thinking there’s a higher purpose to it all. The Guy Fawkes context is a brilliant idea, though a bit overexaggerated presumably for the dramatic effect.
By now both the critics and viewers are all about the infamous Panorama interview and Debicki’s signature head tilt, as if she were an English bulldog and not a human being. Disclaimers on accuracy border on “caution-wet floor”. Unless you’re a member of the Diana cult, you’ll see it’s not meant to emphasize ethical repercussions of the program but to protect producers from a lawsuit. We get to dive straight into a revival of the the so-called War of the Waleses that looms from every corner, making the new King look like a man unable to comprehend the impropriety of asking Camilla’s humiliated husband to put her on the phone in the middle of a holiday family dinner.
Jonathan Pryce is a pleasant, unexpected surprise. His Prince Philip is shining between the cracks with a commanding personality and strong presence that suggests he’s not merely a sidekick to his wife and the heir to the throne. Especially when he decides to help Penny Knatchbull tackle the premature loss of her daughter by restoring a horse carriage. It’s a touching story of living with grief and his short but powerful monologue about it is the proverbial gem hidden in plain sight.
It’s easy to miss it though, everything moves at such a quick pace without giving crucial events that influenced the ultimate untanglement of the situation enough screentime. Philip and Penny’s might be the only plausible relationship here because it’s portrayed as an intellectual bond. The show may suggest otherwise, as if all the other couples weren’t already tacky enough. The biggest miscast is probably Marcia Warren as Queen Mother, whose mannerisms make her look like a skinny, silly lady that might or might not be in the early stages of dementia.
Peter Morgan already announced season 6. The downside of The Crown is that most millenials are familiar with the main characters and their lives since one couldn’t escape the permanent, extensive coverage that exploded when Diana tragically died in a car accident in 1997. I don’t know if they’ll push it all the way till the Queen’s death, but that might prove too much for my attention span. However, in spite of all the complaints both by members of The Firm, Judi Dench or John Major, The Crown is rather like a booster for their most famous brand. Many people outside Europe wouldn’t be as familiar with the Commonwealth or the Royals if it weren’t for Peter Morgan’s lavishly detailed soap opera.
After the whole ordeal that Prince Andrew put his family through, Netflix might be a welcome distraction from the disturbing details and facts about an institution that might be an important part of English national identity, but increasingly redundant in appeal after the Queen’s passing in September. A sprinkle of controversy that this adds to people that are already splattered with it is a small price to pay. If anything, it makes you feel glad you’re not a part of that gilded tableau of privilege earned by the accident of birth, because you’re granted the one luxury they’re not entitled to: privacy.
In the precarious reality many of us inhabit, it’s not a true relief, but neither is junk food or porn. Yet those certainly are a welcome distraction from the tidal wave of apocalyptic, depressing premonitions flooding our physical and virtual reality. If you’re repulsed by creative licence Morgan applies to people whose family trees are full of rotten apples, you can cancel your streaming subscription at any time. Dodi Fayed ended up a bee that came too close to the flame, leaving behind an embittered father who paid the ultimate price for his own version of the American dream which turned into a nightmare. It’s hard to make sense of tragedies, and pointless to obsess about what might have been because it pulls you even deeper into the hole of anxiety that won’t bring closure to your grief.
This is why Prince Philip’s advice to Penny Knatchbull is a wise road to take: learning to live with it, one day at a time. As a son of a mother that died prematurely as well, I can only confirm the truth behind it. One day at a time, with a new purpose and most important of all, reconciliation with the fact that time doesn’t heal wounds that run too deep. Sometimes it’s better to throw the bar away rather than set it too high. When you do it, you’ll be able to enjoy The Crown for what it is: high-end entertainment. If you want something educational and deep, there’s Richard Attenborough anyway.
Just like Fayed and Johnson, they’re two sides of the same coin. Which is why both attract so much attention, however different their aspirations might be. But that’s fine, since entertainment and enlightenment aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. We shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves or expect Netflix to meet our every expectation. Because profit is their only expectation, and in a time where political correctness claims more and more victims all the time, it can be reassuring to see things or people who couldn’t care less. Disclaimer: this is my personal opinion on the matter. The floor is wet, but don’t sweat it.
