The Remarkable Alex Jennings: Duke of Windsor

It took me a bit to get into The Crown. I was impressed by the casting, but the first episodes seemed very slow. 

They are impressively accurate with some, necessary, over-dramatizing in parts--at least in the first season. 

What impressed me the most, other than John Lithgow as the canny Churchill, was Alex Jennings as the Duke of Windsor. 

Alex Jennings shows up all over British television--and in movies. I've seen him in mysteries, historical dramas. He plays Prince Charles in The Queen. And he plays not a dissimilar character as the Duke of Windsor in The Crown.

Except somewhat more complex. Jennings as the Duke of Windsor is arrogant, caustic, obnoxious, desperate to be loved and accepted, a kind of weird early fashion-media-conscious Kardashian, petty, cruel, perceptive, obstinate, devoted to cognitive dissonance, wistful. 

Elizabeth II's coronation is possibly the best episode I've seen so far. Watching from his villa with his wife and friends, the Duke narrates parts of the coronation. Some of his pettiness shines through when he explains why Elizabeth's anointing isn't shown on TV:

Who wants transparency when you can have magic? Who wants prose when you can have poetry? Pull away the veil and what are you left with? An ordinary young woman of modest ability and little imagination. But wrap her up like this, anoint her with oil, and hey, presto, what do you have? A goddess.

Lia Williams as Simpson

And then one realizes that he is talking about himself as well. He never reached his coronation. He knows--possibly better than he will ever admit--how ordinary he is. He knows that he was never transformed. 

"And to think you turned all that down," a guest says. "A chance to be a god." "I turned it down for something greater still," he responds. 

He appears to truly mean what he says as he and his wife exchange fond glances. 

"For love," she translates.

Except then we, the audience, immediately see Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, reluctantly kneel to his wife in a show of support that he chaffed at having to make--and yet did make. And the question, What constitutes true love and sacrifice? arises. 

The Duke of Windsor is our translator because he alone of everyone still alive understands what Elizabeth is taking on, the duty or iconic symbol that nearly crushed him and did crush his brother. 

The end of the episode shows the Duke of Windsor playing the bagpipes. As bagpipes often do, the sound is mournful, nearly a dirge. 

Is he mourning that he abdicated before his coronation? Or is he mourning the weight that only he and his dead brother can understand, the weight that he saw descend that day on his niece, a young woman who believes absolutely in the anointing and the mantle she bears?

Is he mourning what he gave up or mourning what he caused? Or is he mourning the entire system that he both loathes and desires? 

It is a magnificent performance on Jennings' part. 

The weight of the crown.