Sometimes life gets in the way of art.
I think “Sleep, Dearie Sleep†would’ve been a fine finale to The Crown’s six-season run if only Queen Elizabeth II hadn’t died. Series creator Peter Morgan, who penned the final episode, reworked “Sleep, Dearie Sleep†to acknowledge Elizabeth’s death in September 2022. That inevitable decision produced rather a disjointed episode: It takes place — and ends — in 2005, a good 17 years before the queen dies. Yet the heavy themes and imagery of death loom large. Plus, the episode suffers from series-finale syndrome: It’s a bloated 72 minutes long, and it tries — and fails — to address numerous character arcs that won’t even begin to get interesting for another decade or so (I’m looking at you, Princes William and Harry).
Despite the overlong run time, this finale doesn’t beat around the bush: Prior to the credits, The Crown establishes that Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles are now living together at Highgrove, and with the queen approaching 80, it’s time to prepare for Operation London Bridge. I’ll admit, now that we’ve witnessed the real thing, it’s wild to see a full-scale model of the queen’s funeral procession. Things get really depressing, though, when the queen sets eyes on the model of her cortege, including the carriage holding her royal standard-draped coffin with the crown jewels atop.
The main, underlying theme of “Sleep, Dearie Sleep†— other than the queen’s impending heavenly ascent — is whether Elizabeth should abdicate in favor of Prince Charles. It’s a tiresome subject at this point, and since we already know she didn’t step down, this plotline is tedious and inserted for the sake of extra drama.
In the meantime, Elizabeth must deal with a more pressing concern: Charles’s desire to marry Camilla. The Prince of Wales, to his credit, gives a winning argument, explaining he needs Camilla by his side when he’s king because she’s his strength. Just like Prince Philip is for Elizabeth. For the first time, the queen is willing to consider his request.
Also, for the first time, Elizabeth wants to grant her permission for the marriage. The issue isn’t so much with her anymore but with the Church of England and, of course, William and Harry. So The Crown gives us an informative scene that explains exactly why Charles and Camilla married in a civil ceremony, followed by a church blessing. The queen meets with about two dozen Church of England bishops to ask how she, as head of the church, can allow Charles and Camilla to marry despite both being divorced. The bishops advise a registry office ceremony, with a subsequent church service that would include Charles and Camilla’s atoning for their adulterous sins. Yeah, it’s bloody awful, but baby steps, right?
Next on the queen’s agenda is a chat with William and Harry about their father’s wishes. This is a fantastic scene because it illustrates how little Harry’s opinion matters compared to William’s. It really sets the two brothers on their divergent paths, where William will become, as his brother puts it, a “fucking company man,†while Harry will write a tell-all, dish to Oprah, and appear in a Netflix documentary. Harry, as he did in Spare, voices his desire for Charles and Camilla to just continue living together. Regrettably, when you’re in line to be king, the queen explains, Charles doesn’t have that luxury because the last time an unmarried king was on the throne, it was an unmitigated disaster. William, knowing he needs to think like a future monarch, decides to be a realist about this. It’s not what he wants, but he’s not going to stand in his father’s way, either. And poor Harry is just iced out.
Charles then gets the call he’s been waiting for: the wedding is a go! But even the official proposal feels like The Crown is trolling Camilla: Right before Charles bursts into the greenhouse where Camilla is gardening with the happy news, the camera rests on Olivia Williams, WHO HAS A CIGARETTE DANGLING OUT OF HER MOUTH. Ladies and gentlemen, the queen of England.
Now that’s been sorted, Elizabeth can turn her attention back to the issue at hand: Planning her funeral. And the perfect funeral needs a perfect bagpipe lament. She summons the royal bagpiper, who suggests “Sleep, Dearie Sleep,†which was indeed played at the queen’s funeral. But since you can’t name the series finale of The Crown “Sleep, Dearie Sleep†without actually playing that tune, Her Majesty asks her piper to oblige her. The music captivates everyone in the palace, with even a throne room cleaner stopping to sing along. Dammit, the queen is crying and so am I.
And now we take you to the “Harry Dresses Like a Nazi†portion of the episode. Yep, like Charles and Camilla’s wedding, that happened in 2005 too, so it’s getting The Crown treatment. Along with William and Kate Middleton, Harry attends a friend’s incredibly tone-deaf costume party dressed in a Nazi uniform complete with swastika armband. (The theme of the party was “Colonials and Natives,†in case this storyline wasn’t cringe enough.) Just like Harry noted in Spare, William and Kate don’t do much to dissuade him from this absolutely terrible idea. However in the episode, Kate is given a weak “maybe cover the swastika?†line. Even that felt too kind for the woman who, if certain allegations are true, is one of the royals who asked about the skin tone of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s son, Prince Archie. The morning after the party, Harry’s bad decision is splashed all over the newspapers — courtesy of two partygoers who snapped a few photos — and once again, the royal family has yet another quickly glossed-over scandal on their hands.
I do think it’s a shame that The Crown couldn’t dedicate an entire episode to this incident, considering antisemitism has reached an all-time high in 2023. According to the series, Harry’s punishment amounted to little more than extra farm chores. In Spare, however, Prince Harry devotes a section of the book to how his father had him meet with the chief rabbi of Britain. The rabbi not only condemned Harry’s behavior, but apparently, he was the only person to ever teach him about the horrors of the Holocaust.
But remember, this is The Crown, so the focus must always return to the monarch and their far more important problems, like whether Elizabeth should turn over the keys to the kingdom to Charles as a wedding present. To help the queen with her decision-making, she holds a conversation with herself. No, really! Olivia Colman’s middle-aged Elizabeth joins Imelda Staunton’s older Elizabeth in her happy place, the stables, as the personification of the “Step down!†argument. I think this is a much better creative choice than the Ghost Diana and Ghost Dodi approach, and my goodness, it is a delight to see Colman again as the Queen.
Colman’s Elizabeth gives her older self a solid case for abdication: She’s exhausted, there’s precedent in other nations like the Netherlands and Luxembourg, Charles is champing at the bit, most women her age are long-retired, etc. Then Colman deliciously goes in for the kill, telling Staunton that her loyalty to the crown made her a terrible mother.
Soon afterward, the queen announces she wants to speak at Charles and Camilla’s wedding reception, an event where the prime minister, the leader of the opposition, and the Archbishop of Canterbury will be in attendance. She also says that she wants to write the speech herself. This sets off alarm bells throughout the family … oh my God, is she stepping down? Charles is giddy at the thought, although Camilla and William are petrified.
The wedding day finally arrives, and the queen is putting the finishing touches on her speech while watching television coverage of the bride and groom entering the registry office. This is true to form: The queen only attended Charles and Camilla’s church blessing and the reception. The extra time also allowed a self-doubting Elizabeth to conduct one more conference — this time with her much younger self, in the form of Claire Foy (also a delight to see onscreen again as the mid-century queen). This Elizabeth has materialized to offer a counterpoint to Colman’s pro-abdication stance. As in, “Don’t you DARE think about stepping down!â€
Staunton’s Elizabeth can’t deny the facts, though: She doesn’t want to be a “tired, white-haired, geriatric queen†handing over the job to a “tired, white-haired, geriatric Prince of Wales,†which is exactly what happened. It is not an ideal situation, but as Foy’s Elizabeth makes clear, no one can do this job quite like Queen Elizabeth II.
I mean, you can’t get a better hype woman than Young Elizabeth: She tells an almost-80-year-old that she is in her prime and more “liberated†and “confident†than she’s ever been. Foy’s Elizabeth then gets down to brass tacks, which is that monarchy “comes naturally to you.†Her children and grandchildren, on the other hand, “seem to make such a mess of it.†The girl speaks the truth.
But finding and accepting your life’s purpose never comes without sacrifice, and even now, it’s the source of great pain for both Elizabeths. Staunton still mourns the woman she “put aside when [she] became queen†— you know, the one who liked to do the jitterbug with American soldiers — and there’s a part of her that wants that person back. Foy, however, reminds Staunton of something we’ve witnessed over the course of six seasons: Elizabeth Windsor no longer exists. “She’s gone. Long gone. You buried her years ago,†Foy’s Elizabeth says through tears, just like Queen Mary told her in season one.
Something else Queen Mary told Elizabeth in season one? “The crown must always win,†and that’s why Staunton’s queen is now crossing out several lines from her prepared speech. During the reception, it’s impossible for anyone in the royal family to enjoy the queen’s witty remarks: She introduces herself as “the mother of the groom†and rattles off the winners of the Grand National Steeplechase (also held the same day). Everyone is waiting with bated breath to hear if this will be an abdication speech, too.
It’s not. Whether it ever was, we’ll never know. Sure, Charles is disappointed, but Camilla and William are beyond relieved. Queen Elizabeth II will remain the sovereign until her dying day. While I’m not a monarchist, I think she made the right decision, even if she does reign over an antiquated system that will always give unfair, preferential treatment to the firstborn. I know The Crown tries to present Elizabeth as being understanding toward the “spares,†but I’m not sure Prince Harry ever received the “extra care and attention†the queen seemed to think he needed. There’s a moment where the queen asks William to “be kind†to Harry, but if Spare is any indication, William and Kate have left Harry and Meghan out in the cold.
Regardless of its overstuffed storylines, “Sleep, Dearie Sleep,†like The Crown itself, is ultimately about Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor Mountbatten. As the episode winds down, the queen retreats to the peace and quiet of the Windsor Chapel, where she reflects on the future of the monarchy with the one person who has always understood her, her husband. Philip, of course, totally knew that she was weighing the possibility of stepping down and commends her on making the correct choice because “those that come after [her] are not remotely ready to take over.â€Â The Crown may adore Queen Elizabeth, but this series cannot say the same about Charles or William. Unlike her son or grandson, Elizabeth was, in Philip’s words, “born ready,†and I think he’s right.
Always the audience surrogate, Philip also speaks some blunt truths here through his irrepressible, unfiltered manner. One day, the monarchy won’t be their problem anymore because they’ll be dead. LOL! He can see the writing on the wall: Charles will never be the monarch Elizabeth was, and who’s to say William, or even Prince George, will be either? First, William needs to heal his rift with Harry and Meghan, and he needs to implement major changes. If the monarchy even lasts that long, that is. “The party’s over,†Philip observes before leaving Elizabeth to finish her prayers.
Even though it was a dignified farewell to the series, this final scene, with its heavy-handed funeral imagery, felt like such a stretch, considering the queen’s death was still 17 years away.
Alone in the chapel, Elizabeth hears “Sleep, Dearie Sleep†and suddenly envisions her coffin, a solemn acknowledgment of September 2022. Draped in the royal standard and with the Crown Jewels on top, it perfectly matches the one from the full-scale model. When the camera pulls away, the coffin disappears, but Elizabeth has company. First, she’s saluted by her teenage self (Viola Prettejohn) and then joined by her younger and middle-aged selves (Claire Foy and Olivia Colman). But Imelda Staunton’s Elizabeth then exits the chapel alone, because even as the head of state, the monarch always stands alone.
The Crown may be over, but fear not, royal watchers. Royal family drama, like the crown itself, to quote Young Queen Elizabeth, “is a symbol of permanence and continuity.â€
Crown Jewels
• I love that The Crown referenced Philip’s specially designed funeral Land Rover.
• Jonathan Pryce paying tribute to his Prince Philip predecessor, Matt Smith, by imploring Charles and Camilla’s wedding photographer, “For God’s sake, take the bloody photograph, will you?†was a superb throwback to a similarly tense photograph scene from the season-two finale.