Why Margaret Thatcher is the person we need to see right now.
I recently read a Time article by Eliana Dockterman entitled “Why is Margaret Thatcher Always Crying in The Crown?” and was blown away by its conclusions. But blow away not in a good way. The principle point Dockterman levels against the writers of season four is their overly sympathetic portrayal of the season’s new Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher. Dockterman contends that the polarizing legacy of Thatcher’s life, who died in 2013, is too easily dismissed in her representation in The Crown. Instead, Thatcher is often overcome by tearful emotion in order to soften her strong conservative character, the true “Iron Lady” is dismissed.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that Dockterman believes Thatcher’s character to be flat and underdeveloped. In fact she notes the preferableness of seeing complex characters take the screen against “pilloried” characters who simply stand alongside their foil. Nevertheless, one cannot help but sense that, for Dockterman, a properly complex Thatcher as both an expression of early feminism and controversial individual is not what we received. I cannot disagree more. I’ll explain why.
**Spoilers for season four ahead**
A Comparison of Minds
Season four of The Crown recently dropped on Netflix December 15, 2020 and I have been catching up fervently since the new year. At the close of last season my own interest, along with many others, was peaked with the eager expectation of Princess Di and the later confirmed casting of Emma Corrin. Therefore, I was quite surprised to find an even more compelling character in the portrayal of Thatcher by proven English actress Gillian Anderson. Anderson’s Thatcher makes her appearance within minutes of the season’s first episode (“Gold Stick”) as the newly elected Prime Minister takes her first audience sitting opposite Queen Elizabeth II, reprised by Olivia Coleman. Thatcher makes it clear that she has earned a position heretofore reserved for men, peddling men who have lost sight of national goals. The viewer cannot help but feel a tinge of indictment directed toward the Queen — the monarch apparently standing idly by to such “waste.”
I believe this finely-drawn comparison early on between Thatcher and Elizabeth is intentional as it provides a foundational tension between the two mountainous females figures to be fleshed out as the season progresses. The Queen may have thought she met her match when previously faced with the beauty and education of Jackie Kennedy back in season three, but the challenge of the Iron Lady would prove much more imposing. Such tension is immediately ignited in episode two (“The Balmoral Test”) as the credits give way to Thatcher sitting steadily at work inside the cabin of a plane, a scene easily reminiscent of Elizabeth’s busy-like manner throughout the early seasons of the series. Denis Thatcher, played by Stephen Boxer, sits opposite his wife and informs both the PM and viewer that the pair’s impending visit to Balmoral will be an informal examination of their “fit” with the royal family.
Despite the PM’s initial attempts to please, it soon becomes clear that fitting in with the playful and boisterous royals is not in Thatcher’s cards. In what amounts to delicious moments of subtle humor, Thatcher expresses shock at their accommodations and the castle staff, shows up to numerous events clearly overdressed, even wearing a bright blue dress to an impromptu stag hunt, and humiliates herself during evening parlor games. The humor actually gives way to painful cringing in one scene where Thatcher is forced to play, quite pitifully, a version of the English drinking game, Ibble Dibble. The lack of fit is given purpose after an evening of games when Lady Thatcher and her husband retire to their room, not for the PM to get some sleep, but to work after wasting a perfectly good evening.
In a later conversation with Princess Margaret, Thatcher reveals her uncharacteristic upbringing including city planning and passionate speech-writing with her father — her ideas of fun. As the viewer you are drawn into this remarkable character and her peculiar, seemingly innate drive. It is not too surprising, then, when the PM cuts her visit short in order to attend to business back in London. But the real take away is in the comparison. Thatcher is the passionate workhorse for change; the aged Queen Elizabeth is no longer her old self, no longer in lock step with the country she leads.
Elizabeth’s Revivification
The result of the comparison between Thatcher and Elizabeth is not merely for the viewer’s pleasure, but initiates an change in our Queen that could be described as an awakening, or revivification. (As a point of irony, Elizabeth’s character undergoes a semblance of Thatcherite moralism. That is, after hitting rock bottom, one attempts to bounce back). This awakening precipitates largely in episode four (“Favourites”) as Elizabeth decides to seek audience with each of her four children in order to determine who she unwittingly has greater affection for. It should be noted that the impetus for the Queen’s concern among her children is yet again Thatcher, who in her own audience revealed her favorite child without hesitation. The comparison continues and now begins to ripple.
As the Queen takes lunch on separate occasions with each of her three sons and daughter, she is berated by the unknown complexities of their lives. The youngest, Prince Edward, reveals the constant antagonism of his university schoolmates. Princess Anne, who has seemingly been easygoing up to this point, reveals the deep struggles of living in the shadows of larger royal figures, including Princess Di.
Elizabeth’s third conversation is much different with Prince Andrew due to him being her favorite; nevertheless, it is at this point she begins to realize that she hardly knows her children’s lives and how to help guide them.
Thus, by her fourth audience with Charles, the Prince of Wales and heir of the crown, evidence of the former Queen’s confidence returns. When Charles reveals the depth of his unhealthy marriage to Diana, Elizabeth rebukes his selfish need for “cheering up” and instructs him to redirect such efforts to tending to his wife. As the Queen struggled in her early marriage to Philip, now she offers the appropriate challenge to her eldest son. If Charles is to be fit to wear the crown, he and his marriage must remain intact. Elizabeth has been revived in her role as Queen and protector of the crown.
A Complex Character After All
According to Dockterman’s critique, the Iron Lady receives an overly sympathetic showing as a conservative woman under whom “poverty and inequality both increased.” When unable to creatively soften Thatcher’s image, the writers resort to tears. In my own viewing, this claim simply cannot be sustained.
Following Elizabeth’s revival, episode five (“Fagan”) presents a stark rebuttal to Thatcher’s economic policy and does so through the renewed confidence of the Queen. The episode centers on the story of Michael Fagan, played by Tom Brooke, an unemployed father struggling with losing his parental rights. Fagan’s character represents the “normal” English person suffering under the weight of Thatcher’s reforms. His story moves from scene to scene receiving food stamps, speaking with social services, speaking with his MP (member of parliament), and more before finally recalling his MP’s sarcastic joke to take it up with the Queen. In a shock to viewers unacquainted with English history, Fagan actually breaks into Buckingham Palace, not once, but twice!
During his second break-in Fagan would succeed in gaining audience with Queen Elizabeth. However, even before this point, it is clear that the viewer is meant to side with Fagan, and by extension the public, asking for Thatcher’s removal. At the very least, we are to pity Mr. Fagan and ask if Thatcher’s principles have gone too far. These very questions are then taken up by the Queen in a closing audience with the PM. The audience begins with the Iron Lady apologizing for the lack of policing which allowed Mr. Fagan entry to the palace and leads into defending her policies in the face of record unemployment. In a herculean stand for decency, Elizabeth interrupts to ask if Thatcher should equally consider the “moral economy” of the country. Looking at her watch, Thatcher rises to leave for a wartime victory parade. The answer to the Queen’s question seems clear.
As if that were not enough to elicit complexity and a challenge to Thatcher’s character, the writers cue up episode 8 (“48:1”) as a dramatic stalemate between our dynamic female leads. The Queen and her PM go head to head in both personal audience and through a succession of scenes debating how to engage South Africa during apartheid. Thatcher is staunchly against imposing sanctions on the African nation, but through a series of verbiage modifications consents to sign documents for economic “signaling.” Just when it looks like the Queen has won, Thatcher delivers a press conference claiming that she took on the 48 other commonwealth nations and made them bow to her. Returning to England, Elizabeth breaks her forty year precedent of remaining politically silent towards her PMs and agrees to source a piece to the Sunday Times exploring the Queen’s rift with Thatcher. The piece calls Thatcher “uncaring,” “confrontational,” and “socially divisive.” For writers attempting to soften our view of Thatcher, it seems odd to anticipate viewers siding with the Queen and her derisions of Thatcher.
Without mining further into each episode, I believe what I have laid out above presents Margaret Thatcher a very complex character within The Crown. Thatcher is to be admired in her work ethic and notoriety for getting things done, while at the same time questioned for the unintended, and even ignored consequences of her policies. Thatcher is the feminist ideal that cooks, cleans, and battles with the men, yet she also belittles other women and gives little respect to anyone she doesn’t deem strong. Yes, the Iron Lady cries, but those tears are but a pinpoint on the complexity that has been written into her character. What is more, Thatcher’s character becomes the impetus and causal relationship for Elizabeth’s renewed strength. In this way, Thatcher’s character plays a major role in reinstalling the Queen as the dominating figure of the series centered on the royal crown.
Why We Need to See Complex Characters
So I disagree strongly with Dockterman in the portrayal of Thatcher’s character. So what?
First, it is much more enjoyable to recognize the careful crafting of a season and the complex development of its characters. If you watched season four and only saw a watery eyed Thatcher (and in turn a far less interesting Elizabeth) you might just write off season five. This would be a shame. However, my primary reason for debunking Dockterman’s thesis is the more pressing cultural issue of confronting figures and ideas we disagree with.
Many Americans were naively hopeful that 2021 would bring with it a new year equipped to handle the racial, political, economic, pandemic, and nearly every division you could think of that encapsulated 2020. Last year goes down as one of the most polarizing years in recent history and it seems nearly every conflict came with a particular face and a name. Just to name a few such polarizing characters: AG William Barr, Breonna Taylor, Derek Chauvin (the officer involved in the killing of George Floyd), Amy Coney Barrett, Senator Pelosi, and of course President Trump.
Many Americans sit on one side of the aisle when it comes to most of these issues, and figures. This is to be expected at least on a political level. What seems to have changed is the moral agitation and righteous indignation now taking center stage. It has become abundantly clear that both sides no longer know how to share the same space together. Demeaning arguments and caricatures of the “other side” as evil are now commonplace. In fact, I would suggest this disdain for those who disagree with us is the coloring factor of Dockterman’s critique of Thatcher.
A closer look reveals that Dockterman’s Time article is not only about characters within The Crown, but additionally draws parallels between Thatcher and other dramatized characters such as Mrs. America’s Phyllis Schlafly as well as currently living individuals like Melania Trump and Amy Coney Barrett. Dockterman’s point for each is the same, writers and pundits alike try to pass off these conservative individuals as feminist icons to sympathize with, but there is little in these characters/individuals to applaud. In her view, these conservative women are not called out for their complicity in promulgating views that ultimately hurt women. With this backdrop, it is no wonder that Thatcher’s character in The Crown doesn’t get a fair shake from Dockterman. Thatcher cannot possibly be a complex character because her historical portrait is already settled. It’s the all to common assumption that the more we disagree with another, the less complex they seem and the more we flatten our resolve against them.
Seeing Complexity Involves Willingness
Believe it or not, I’m actually here not to “talk politics,” but to point out that the current level of antagonism in our culture makes it all but impossible to look complexly upon divisive public figures. What is worse, we then extend this repudiation to friends, family, and all who don’t think the same way we do. If it wasn’t for the Facebook algorithm keeping us in our bubbles, we would likely have blocked more “friends” than we already have. So where do we go from here? How do we begin bridging this divide?
There is no single solution to this cultural divide; no easy fix that will make up for harsh words already said. But here’s to a few steps you can take without even leaving your own headspace. First, get out of the bubble. I mentioned Facebook above, but the truth is that there are endless technology platforms we use and they all keep tabs on what we like. It the reason YouTube customizes your home screen and why Netflix knows what new series to recommend. Our technology is not merely in the habit of learning about us to improve our experience, but to help us stay online and engaged by showing us more material it knows we will like. Just check out this NYT article on The Social Dilemma. Actively break out of this bubble and find opinions that don’t align with your normal intake. We might just find there is more complexity out there than we think.
Second, be discerning. Discernment is a socially antiquated word — meaning it’s often seen as outdated and irrelevant — and as such has left behind a culture unable to cope with too much information. Mix this with an information revolution producing more available information than at any other point in history and we have a large problem. Chad Ragsdale has a great blog post covering this issue and offering several principles for practicing discernment to sift out truth. You don’t have to stop engaging social media or the article your uncle sends you, just be prepared to read, well, better.
Finally, might I suggest a simple and ancient principle from Socrates to Jesus, namely, the golden rule. One iteration of this rule would be “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Another version sometimes called the silver rule says “don’t do to other what you wouldn’t have them do to you.” Simply put, instead of maligning others for our disagreements, disagree with grace. When engaging others’ views, make every effort to understand the argument being made instead of immediately writing off the person. Often we are quicker to attack underlying motives than to ask a clarifying question. If we never learn to look squarely at those we disagree with, the horizon of our perspective will be ever receding. Right now we need to see character like Margaret Thatcher, because we need to see others that may not be like us.
