The Crown (2016–…): Season 3, Episode 9 - Episode #3.9 - full transcript
Flight 104, you're strength five.
Roger that, Benson.
We're passing through
flight level one seven, for 2,500.
Roger, flight 104.
Report approaching 2,500.
Benson weather
is light overcast, wind calm.
Thanks, Benson.
We're hoping for a straight-in
visual approach to runway zero one.
Roger, flight 104. That is approved.
Continue descent,
and report reaching 2,500.
Roger, Benson. Flight 104...
Thus it hath pleased Almighty God...
To take out of this transitory life
unto His Divine Mercy
the late Most High, Mighty and Illustrious
Prince Edward Albert Christian
George Andrew Patrick David,
Duke of Windsor.
Sometime the Most High, Most Mighty
and Most Excellent Monarch
Edward VIII.
By the Grace of God,
of Great Britain, Ireland
and the British Dominions beyond the Seas
King, Defender of the Faith,
Emperor of India.
Uncle of the Most High,
Most Mighty and Most Excellent Monarch,
our Sovereign Lady, Elizabeth II,
whom may God preserve and bless
with long life, health and honor.
I wanted to thank you
for writing such lovely letters
to David in his final days.
It meant a great deal to him.
And he wanted you to have this...
which I gave him in 1939.
A pocket watch and a compass.
With an inscription.
"No excuse for going
in the wrong direction."
Thank you.
I'm sorry not to see your girlfriend.
Well, she's picking me up after this.
We're spending the evening together
before I return to Dartmouth.
But don't tell anyone. It's a secret.
She's not official, yet.
Is she the one?
Yes.
I think so.
Then if I may offer two pieces of advice.
Never turn your back on true love.
Despite all the sacrifices
and all the pain,
David and I never once regretted it.
Thank you. And the second?
Watch out for your family.
They mean well.
No, they don't.
I saw her.
The black widow.
Wallis?
Funny old crow.
She stared at me. It spooked me rather.
She gave me a warning.
About what?
My family.
- Mummy.
- Goodbye, darling.
Aunt Margot.
Hmm.
Poor you.
Is Dartmouth unbearable?
Huh! What a question.
Uncle Dickie.
It'll be the making of you.
Just remember "acting lieutenant"
doesn't mean you're in a bloody play.
It's funny.
I looked at them as I was leaving.
- Anne.
- My mother...
Charles.
Father, grandmother, aunt,
even my sister, and I thought,
"That's what
they must have looked like to him."
- Who?
- The last Prince of Wales.
The poor, lost soul we just buried.
He wasn't like them.
He was brighter, wittier,
more independent of thought,
more true to himself.
And so, they united against him.
And in that moment...
as they looked at me,
in some god-awful way, I realized...
I have just replaced him.
Come on, Edward, this way.
- What is it?
- No peeking.
Thank you.
- But we can't afford it.
- Give it a go.
Go on.
In recent days,
tensions have dramatically escalated
between the government
and the National Union of Mineworkers,
and the resulting blockade
now threatens to close
the government's
last remaining stockpile of coal.
My friends, it is time.
No more standing at the bottom looking up.
It's time to make yourselves heard.
We've closed every mine
across this country,
and we will continue to freeze stockpiles
till they open their ears,
open their hearts.
What you're seeing here today
is the beginning.
The beginning
of the working classes saying enough.
We have tried to reach agreement
with management, with government,
but the capitalist establishment
is bent on crushing
the working-class movement.
So today we're tearing up that agreement,
and from now on we are men of action,
and we will achieve our aims
by any means necessary.
The Prime Minister, Your Majesty.
I am sorry, Prime Minister.
They mean no harm.
All animals mean harm.
They are but a meal away from barbarism.
One item on the agenda
above all others, I'd say.
- The miners' strike.
- Oh.
Which, like a fever dream,
a sharp and sometimes painful
interlude of madness, will soon pass.
Will it?
On the surface, their demands
seem quite reasonable.
A wage increase
in line with factory workers.
And public sympathy for them
seems to be growing.
People are sentimental and easily swayed.
No, the issue that confronts us
is far more important.
- Economic probity, ma'am.
- But if the strike continues?
Then it will end in defeat and humiliation
for the mineworkers.
We, the government,
have been quietly moving coal stocks
from pitheads to power stations
these past weeks.
We have eight weeks of reserves,
by which time we will have wrapped up
this whole messy affair.
We are prepared.
- Are you warming to him yet?
- Mr. Heath?
- I'm not sure there's much to warm to.
- Give him time. He's rusty.
You're the first woman in decades
he's had a meaningful relationship with.
It's what his enemies
have always held against him.
- What? Thank you.
- Well, the fact he never married.
People find it hard to trust a leader
without a wife and family.
Apparently, there was a doctor's daughter.
It was love at first sight.
And she waited for him throughout the war,
only for Heath to chicken out
at the last moment.
So she married someone else.
- Where do you get all this from?
- Some chap I met who knew Heath of old.
Thinks that he, uh... never moved past it.
- How sad.
- Hmm.
There you are.
When you find the right one,
snap 'em up.
As a central theme, it's perfect.
For what?
Your speech to mark
our 25-year wedding anniversary.
- Why my speech?
- Because it's your turn.
I made the one on our tenth anniversary.
Something of a triumph, as I recall.
Mon petit chou.
Speaking of love at first sight...
I had the opportunity to read
some of Charles's letters to Uncle David
about his feelings for the Shand girl.
I think we need to take it seriously.
- Why?
- I think he's really fallen in love.
You don't love a girl like Camilla Shand.
She's...
She's a bit of fun.
Uh, and a welcome distraction
from the rigors of the Navy.
The first few months can be pretty tough.
In line!
Quicker!
Strange things, daydreams.
Get over it, Windsor!
You're safe during the 6:00 a.m. drills.
All that shouting and exertion
rather blows the cobwebs away.
You're even fairly safe in class.
I mean,
there's a rigor to astronavigation
in which one can lose oneself.
No, the time you're most vulnerable
is when you're out at sea.
Something about the waves.
One begins to disappear.
And then suddenly,
you're somewhere else entirely.
And there's a feeling
I've never had before.
A sense of safety and belonging...
and all that loneliness having vanished.
And it's all rather miraculous.
I think you are miraculous.
Tell me,
is there any part of all this that's...
surprised you?
Of what?
Our... friendship.
You should ask if there's any part
of this that hasn't surprised me.
A good surprise?
I think so.
- You don't sound certain.
- No, I am.
I think.
You seem to be doing a lot of thinking.
That's the worst thing one can do.
Why? I love thinking.
Yes, and that's
what makes things so confusing.
Or gives them clarity.
Not in this instance.
But what we have is special.
I know.
But that's what makes things so confusing.
Because I wasn't supposed
to fall in love with you.
None of this was supposed to happen.
What? Damn. Why?
- Hello?
- What was supposed to happen?
Hello?
I've run out of coins.
Hello?
Left, right.
Left, right. Left, right...
Shoulder. Arms.
Inwards turn.
Parade will advance.
Right turn.
Parade halt.
That's not the face
I'd hoped to see opposite me.
Commander of the college
wrote to me only last week,
saying how encouraged he was
by your progress.
A progress which, in his estimation,
compares you favorably with your father,
and your grandfather before him,
and great grandfather before him.
I know you had your own ideas,
your vision of where you belong.
I simply ask
that you stick with it a little.
It's not the college.
Well, then what is it?
Camilla.
Shand?
Hmm.
You two still amusing one another,
are you?
We are.
- I like her very much.
- Good. Good.
I like her very much indeed.
Hmm.
The situation is complicated.
I'm not the only interested party.
Oh!
You mean the donkey-walloper?
Parker Bowles? Hmm?
Dickie, I don't want to lose her.
Dear boy,
you're not going to lose any woman.
You're the Prince of Wales.
I mean, I don't want to lose her ever.
Hmm.
She's the one.
Now I think you understand
what I'm saying,
and why I'm going to need your help...
with the family.
Eyes right.
Eyes front.
My fault entirely.
The Shand girl
was only ever meant to be an opportunity
for an inexperienced boy
to sow his wild oats.
That's why I encouraged it. Indulged it.
I never expected him to develop feelings.
Let alone nurture thoughts of...
Don't even say it. It's madness.
And the sooner that girl's back where
she belongs, with Derek's boy, the better.
Hmm, I agree.
How shall we handle this?
Well, I can take care of Charles.
Nice long posting overseas
will bring him to his senses.
I'll speak to everyone at the Admiralty.
Eight months on the other side
of the world, it'll soon go away.
Hmm, let's hope so.
Can I leave the Shands
and the Parker Bowles families to you?
- With pleasure.
- Hmm.
You play the organ, don't you?
I do.
- Hmm. And the pianoforte?
- Yes.
What smooth, elegant hands you have.
Long, delicate fingers.
- You ever seen a pit, Mr. Heath?
- Of course.
Not on your television. In person.
Then let's help you...
get acquainted.
Pick it up.
Go on.
Touch it.
Smell it.
So, next time you're playing the organ
in some cathedral
having lofty thoughts
in the heavens close to God,
think of my members, my comrades,
down there in the heat and the darkness,
digging for coal,
because when they go to work
and break their backs
and risk their lives,
they're nowhere near God.
They're in hell,
and they're doing that day in, day out,
so that you
and everyone else in this country,
can have heat and electricity and power.
We will make no progress,
if you concentrate
only on our differences.
No, you're wrong.
That's the only way we'll make progress.
Until you recognize
the miners' contribution to this country
is what keeps the lights on
in factories, schools, hospitals
and grand rooms like these,
then there can be no agreements
made with the NUM.
Well, let's talk for a minute
about "grand rooms like this."
I'm just as much a stranger
to rooms like this as you are.
My father was a builder.
I got here because I'm the leader
of a political party
elected by the people of this country
to lead their government.
This is not my home.
This is the home
the people of this country
give the Queen's first minister.
It is grand, because we respect democracy.
You can make simple assumptions
about who I am
by virtue of the fact
that I play the organ.
My parents couldn't afford
to buy a piano for me.
They had to pay for it in installments
from a shop in Margate.
No, let's not waste time
on bogus disagreements
about a class struggle between you and me.
I come from a background
not so far removed from you.
But I have chosen democracy, unlike you,
and I will not have you,
or any other hoodlum come in here
and threaten a democratic government
with undemocratic strikes.
This government has its policy,
and will not be deviated from it... ever!
And we have ours...
and nor will we.
Now that talks between the government
and the mineworkers have broken down,
the Prime Minister has come up
with a scheme
for nationwide power cuts
to conserve energy.
Christ.
I've seen battle plans
that are less complicated.
Well, that's exactly
what the government is calling it.
A battle plan to defeat the miners.
And we expect
these power cuts to start soon?
- Yes, ma'am.
- And for how long?
For the rest of this month,
perhaps even year.
What? This will devastate the country.
Indeed, there will be interruptions
to the normal functioning of government
and the judiciary and the civil service.
Hospitals may have
to carry out operations by torchlight.
But Mr. Heath is confident of victory.
As Prime Minister,
I want to speak to you
simply and plainly tonight
about the grave emergency
now facing our country.
In the House of Commons this afternoon,
I announced more severe restrictions
on the use of electricity.
We are asking you
to cut down to the absolute minimum
its use for heating
and for other purposes in your home.
In industry we are limiting
the supply of electricity
to almost all factories, shops and offices
to three days a week.
In terms of comfort,
we shall have a harder Christmas
than we have known since the war.
In the kind of country we live in...
there can be no "we" or "they."
It is only "us."
All of us.
If the government is defeated,
then the country is defeated.
Major and Mrs. Shand, Your Majesty,
and Mr. and Mrs. Parker Bowles.
- Thank you for coming, Major Shand.
- Your Majesty.
- Mrs. Shand.
- Your Majesty.
- Derek.
- Your Majesty.
- Ann.
- Your Majesty.
Please.
You're probably wondering why
I've invited you all here this afternoon.
It's a slightly delicate matter.
Something of an imbroglio
involving your son, Derek,
your daughter, Mrs. Shand,
and my grandson, the Prince of Wales.
Windsor.
You're wanted on the quarterdeck.
Captain's office.
Sir.
Windsor, come in.
We now have the results from the exams,
and the examining body has concluded
that you have met the necessary criteria
to undertake your duties
as officer of the watch.
Your first official posting.
Congratulations.
Am I allowed to know where to?
Oh, Christ! Not again!
Jenkins, fetch another lamp
and some candles, will you?
Yes, sir.
Your Royal Highness.
- Martin.
- Sir.
I wonder if the Queen
might have a minute for me.
Uh, it's not the best moment, sir.
She's writing a speech.
Could you tell her
I've come all the way from Dartmouth
and that it's very important?
Of course, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Her Majesty will see you now, sir.
- Sorry to interrupt, Mummy.
- I didn't know you were on leave.
- I'm not.
- Then why are you here?
- I've come to ask you a question.
- Hmm.
I've been given a posting.
Eight months in the Caribbean.
That's not a question.
I'm not happy about it.
- Still not a question.
- All right.
Here's the question.
- Did you arrange it?
- Why would I have arranged it?
To separate us, break us up.
- Who?
- Camilla Shand and me.
- You said you'd been given a promotion.
- A posting, not a promotion.
And one that makes no sense.
I'm not eligible for a posting yet.
I'm not qualified.
People make all kinds of exceptions
for members of the royal family.
Not the Navy.
They pride themselves on making
no exceptions ever. My question is,
did you or anyone else in this family
have something to do with this?
- Why would we do that?
- I've no idea.
Because she's not "intact,"
or not the right family,
or because she has a mind of her own,
or perhaps just because it amuses everyone
to take two people
who are perfectly happy together
and find a reason to break them up.
Because there is history
of that cruelty in this family!
Well, I won't stand for it!
I won't be pushed aside
like Uncle David or Aunt Margot.
I won't stand for it.
Martin.
Queen Elizabeth and Lord Mountbatten.
I'd like to see them
as soon as possible, together.
Everything was fine.
Everyone was getting what they wanted
and needed from the arrangement.
- Till the boy started talking about love.
- But what if it is love?
Shouldn't it be allowed to run its course?
I was allowed to marry my choice.
That was different.
His rank was different.
The feelings were the same.
The times were different.
His past was different.
Philip was a royal prince.
Does that still matter
in this day and age?
It does.
The system is too... fragile, too precious
to let in unpredictable elements,
dangerous elements.
Camilla isn't dangerous.
She's the first woman Charles has met
that gives him confidence
and comfort and self-belief.
Qualities I think we all agree
he will one day need.
I understand you are both taking steps
to protect the Crown,
but given the history of this family,
I don't think we can afford
to break up two people
that truly love one another.
We've learned that lesson
time and time again.
Trust me.
This is anything but love.
Dickie.
There is something you should know.
♪ He'd like to come and meet us ♪
♪ But he thinks he'd blow our minds ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He's told us not to blow it ♪
♪ 'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile ♪
♪ He told me ♪
♪ Let the children lose it ♪
♪ Let the children use it ♪
♪ Let all the children boogie ♪
♪ Da, da, da, da, da ♪
♪ La, la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Da, da, da, da, da ♪
♪ La, la, la, la ♪
♪ La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la ♪
God, what's all this?
Come in, darling.
We'd like to ask you some questions.
And it's important
while answering those questions
that you remain clearheaded,
unemotional, rational and calm.
As opposed to what? The hysterical
and neurotic way I normally behave?
We need to talk to you about your brother.
Which one? I have three.
Charles.
Go on.
Specifically, the suitability
of his match with Camilla Shand.
Match?
We believe it's his intention
to ask her to marry him.
Fine.
As long as he's prepared for there
to always be three in the marriage.
The third being?
Andrew Parker Bowles.
Camilla's first love,
and the man she's still devoted to.
She's not devoted to Charles?
She likes Charles,
but she's obsessed with Andrew.
Spare me.
How do you know all this?
Because I was briefly
caught up in it myself.
Wait a minute.
- When?
- Then. In the past. It doesn't matter.
It was all very straightforward.
He got what he wanted,
which was to make Camilla jealous.
I got what I wanted,
which was a bit of fun.
- Fun?
- Yes, sorry, Mummy. It was.
Is that it? Inquisition over.
Can I go now?
Thank you, darling.
I hope that wasn't too emotional
for you all.
I'd like to speak to Mummy alone.
Right.
That's our cue.
Queens only.
I'm not sure I know where to begin.
Obviously, poor Charles.
- Stupid, naive Charles.
- Yes.
- And Anne?
- Yes.
I mean... who would have thought it?
Hmm.
So, what's the next step?
The families have been spoken to.
A date has been set for Camilla
to be married to the Parker Bowles boy.
Good.
All that's missing is
for someone to let them know.
- Will you tell Charles?
- That would achieve nothing.
It would achieve a great deal.
It would clear the air.
And since you approve of the decision,
as his mother, and Queen,
it's the right thing to do.
It would only create rancor
and resentment,
and while I may approve of the decision,
none of this nonsense was my idea.
Dickie can do it.
This is his mess.
During yesterday's
extended power cuts,
it was almost impossible for
many families who depend on electricity
to cook, or to heat
and light their homes.
Summer camping stoves
and old paraffin lamps
have been brought out of the attic
and dusted down.
It's now almost impossible
to buy a candle, a stove or a heater.
In ironmongers
it's always the same notice,
and orders for fresh supplies
have been in for days.
With millions now unable to work,
people have taken to the streets,
and tensions are starting to rise.
Heath out! Heath out! Heath out!
There are now genuine fears
for the stability of the country,
and the maintenance of law and order.
I don't know where to begin.
What to say.
Is it true? Do you love Andrew?
- It's complicated.
- Nothing complicated about it.
It's a yes or no answer. Do you love him?
Yes.
In a manner of speaking.
I'm such a fool.
But the more time I spent with you,
the more I got to know you,
the more my feelings changed.
Transport is waiting, sir.
- Obviously not enough.
- But that's not true.
Whatever anyone tells you,
you must believe
that my feelings for you are real.
Then why have we allowed them to do this?
Because apparently
this way it'll be better for everyone.
In the long run.
If it were the occasional
blackout, I would understand,
but when it disrupts everyday life,
up and down the country,
indeed threatens lives,
threatens law and order,
I do begin to wonder whether we really
have taken the right course of action.
Well, ma'am,
the government is not to blame.
The National Union of Mineworkers
has been given every opportunity,
and has rejected offer after offer.
Our last, a more than generous package
worth £48 million,
was met with wholesale contempt.
But that does not explain the blackouts.
I distinctly remember you assuring me
that the government had stockpiled
enough coal to weather any storm,
and yet here we are.
It's true, the strikes have lasted longer
than we anticipated,
and the stubbornness
of the miners and unions
has been considerably more violent.
I think we can safely say
there has been stubbornness on both sides.
And one does wonder
if we have failed to understand
the scale of the miners' anger.
Indeed if we have failed
to understand them, as people.
Wedding anniversary speech written?
Yes.
Excessively gushing in the "liege man
of life and limb" department?
I do feel slightly for Charles.
Yes.
It will hurt.
And for a while
it might even feel like a betrayal.
But then he'll come to his senses,
and it will be forgotten.
I hope so.
I must admit, my Lord Mayor,
that the first 25 years of marriage
have rather crept up on us.
I'm not much given to philosophizing,
but from time to time
one is presented with an opportunity
to reflect upon what has contributed
to the success of something.
And in the case of our marriage,
it's family.
The rock upon which any enduring marriage
must surely be founded.
A network of brothers, sisters,
mothers and fathers,
cousins and relations.
A filigree of a thousand tiny threads,
woven together
by blood, kinship and trust.
Only there,
within that crucible
of family relationships,
can a successful union
between two people be forged.
Fealty, allegiance,
obedience and devotion.
These are Christian values
that sustain a marriage...
and that bind a family together.
To realize that elusive state
of being a happy family
is a tireless struggle, a battle...
but it is a battle worth fighting
for there is nothing in life to match it.
The right kind of partnership...
with the right kind of partner
is the foundation
on which a successful family must rest.
Marriage is a proposition
some in the modern world
would question...
but it is a proposition about which,
when asked,
I can reply, plainly and unequivocally...
"I am for it."
Thank you.
♪ Didn't know what time it was
And the lights were low ♪
♪ I leaned back on my radio ♪
♪ Some cat was layin' down
Some rock 'n' roll ♪
♪ "Lotta soul," he said ♪
♪ Then the loud sound did seem to fade ♪
♪ Came back like slow voice
On a wave of phase ♪
♪ That weren't no DJ
That was hazy cosmic jive ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He'd like to come and meet us
But he thinks he'd blow our minds ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He's told us not to blow it
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile ♪
♪ He told me
"Let the children lose it ♪"
♪ Let the children use it ♪
"♪ Let all the children boogie" ♪
Roger that, Benson.
We're passing through
flight level one seven, for 2,500.
Roger, flight 104.
Report approaching 2,500.
Benson weather
is light overcast, wind calm.
Thanks, Benson.
We're hoping for a straight-in
visual approach to runway zero one.
Roger, flight 104. That is approved.
Continue descent,
and report reaching 2,500.
Roger, Benson. Flight 104...
Thus it hath pleased Almighty God...
To take out of this transitory life
unto His Divine Mercy
the late Most High, Mighty and Illustrious
Prince Edward Albert Christian
George Andrew Patrick David,
Duke of Windsor.
Sometime the Most High, Most Mighty
and Most Excellent Monarch
Edward VIII.
By the Grace of God,
of Great Britain, Ireland
and the British Dominions beyond the Seas
King, Defender of the Faith,
Emperor of India.
Uncle of the Most High,
Most Mighty and Most Excellent Monarch,
our Sovereign Lady, Elizabeth II,
whom may God preserve and bless
with long life, health and honor.
I wanted to thank you
for writing such lovely letters
to David in his final days.
It meant a great deal to him.
And he wanted you to have this...
which I gave him in 1939.
A pocket watch and a compass.
With an inscription.
"No excuse for going
in the wrong direction."
Thank you.
I'm sorry not to see your girlfriend.
Well, she's picking me up after this.
We're spending the evening together
before I return to Dartmouth.
But don't tell anyone. It's a secret.
She's not official, yet.
Is she the one?
Yes.
I think so.
Then if I may offer two pieces of advice.
Never turn your back on true love.
Despite all the sacrifices
and all the pain,
David and I never once regretted it.
Thank you. And the second?
Watch out for your family.
They mean well.
No, they don't.
I saw her.
The black widow.
Wallis?
Funny old crow.
She stared at me. It spooked me rather.
She gave me a warning.
About what?
My family.
- Mummy.
- Goodbye, darling.
Aunt Margot.
Hmm.
Poor you.
Is Dartmouth unbearable?
Huh! What a question.
Uncle Dickie.
It'll be the making of you.
Just remember "acting lieutenant"
doesn't mean you're in a bloody play.
It's funny.
I looked at them as I was leaving.
- Anne.
- My mother...
Charles.
Father, grandmother, aunt,
even my sister, and I thought,
"That's what
they must have looked like to him."
- Who?
- The last Prince of Wales.
The poor, lost soul we just buried.
He wasn't like them.
He was brighter, wittier,
more independent of thought,
more true to himself.
And so, they united against him.
And in that moment...
as they looked at me,
in some god-awful way, I realized...
I have just replaced him.
Come on, Edward, this way.
- What is it?
- No peeking.
Thank you.
- But we can't afford it.
- Give it a go.
Go on.
In recent days,
tensions have dramatically escalated
between the government
and the National Union of Mineworkers,
and the resulting blockade
now threatens to close
the government's
last remaining stockpile of coal.
My friends, it is time.
No more standing at the bottom looking up.
It's time to make yourselves heard.
We've closed every mine
across this country,
and we will continue to freeze stockpiles
till they open their ears,
open their hearts.
What you're seeing here today
is the beginning.
The beginning
of the working classes saying enough.
We have tried to reach agreement
with management, with government,
but the capitalist establishment
is bent on crushing
the working-class movement.
So today we're tearing up that agreement,
and from now on we are men of action,
and we will achieve our aims
by any means necessary.
The Prime Minister, Your Majesty.
I am sorry, Prime Minister.
They mean no harm.
All animals mean harm.
They are but a meal away from barbarism.
One item on the agenda
above all others, I'd say.
- The miners' strike.
- Oh.
Which, like a fever dream,
a sharp and sometimes painful
interlude of madness, will soon pass.
Will it?
On the surface, their demands
seem quite reasonable.
A wage increase
in line with factory workers.
And public sympathy for them
seems to be growing.
People are sentimental and easily swayed.
No, the issue that confronts us
is far more important.
- Economic probity, ma'am.
- But if the strike continues?
Then it will end in defeat and humiliation
for the mineworkers.
We, the government,
have been quietly moving coal stocks
from pitheads to power stations
these past weeks.
We have eight weeks of reserves,
by which time we will have wrapped up
this whole messy affair.
We are prepared.
- Are you warming to him yet?
- Mr. Heath?
- I'm not sure there's much to warm to.
- Give him time. He's rusty.
You're the first woman in decades
he's had a meaningful relationship with.
It's what his enemies
have always held against him.
- What? Thank you.
- Well, the fact he never married.
People find it hard to trust a leader
without a wife and family.
Apparently, there was a doctor's daughter.
It was love at first sight.
And she waited for him throughout the war,
only for Heath to chicken out
at the last moment.
So she married someone else.
- Where do you get all this from?
- Some chap I met who knew Heath of old.
Thinks that he, uh... never moved past it.
- How sad.
- Hmm.
There you are.
When you find the right one,
snap 'em up.
As a central theme, it's perfect.
For what?
Your speech to mark
our 25-year wedding anniversary.
- Why my speech?
- Because it's your turn.
I made the one on our tenth anniversary.
Something of a triumph, as I recall.
Mon petit chou.
Speaking of love at first sight...
I had the opportunity to read
some of Charles's letters to Uncle David
about his feelings for the Shand girl.
I think we need to take it seriously.
- Why?
- I think he's really fallen in love.
You don't love a girl like Camilla Shand.
She's...
She's a bit of fun.
Uh, and a welcome distraction
from the rigors of the Navy.
The first few months can be pretty tough.
In line!
Quicker!
Strange things, daydreams.
Get over it, Windsor!
You're safe during the 6:00 a.m. drills.
All that shouting and exertion
rather blows the cobwebs away.
You're even fairly safe in class.
I mean,
there's a rigor to astronavigation
in which one can lose oneself.
No, the time you're most vulnerable
is when you're out at sea.
Something about the waves.
One begins to disappear.
And then suddenly,
you're somewhere else entirely.
And there's a feeling
I've never had before.
A sense of safety and belonging...
and all that loneliness having vanished.
And it's all rather miraculous.
I think you are miraculous.
Tell me,
is there any part of all this that's...
surprised you?
Of what?
Our... friendship.
You should ask if there's any part
of this that hasn't surprised me.
A good surprise?
I think so.
- You don't sound certain.
- No, I am.
I think.
You seem to be doing a lot of thinking.
That's the worst thing one can do.
Why? I love thinking.
Yes, and that's
what makes things so confusing.
Or gives them clarity.
Not in this instance.
But what we have is special.
I know.
But that's what makes things so confusing.
Because I wasn't supposed
to fall in love with you.
None of this was supposed to happen.
What? Damn. Why?
- Hello?
- What was supposed to happen?
Hello?
I've run out of coins.
Hello?
Left, right.
Left, right. Left, right...
Shoulder. Arms.
Inwards turn.
Parade will advance.
Right turn.
Parade halt.
That's not the face
I'd hoped to see opposite me.
Commander of the college
wrote to me only last week,
saying how encouraged he was
by your progress.
A progress which, in his estimation,
compares you favorably with your father,
and your grandfather before him,
and great grandfather before him.
I know you had your own ideas,
your vision of where you belong.
I simply ask
that you stick with it a little.
It's not the college.
Well, then what is it?
Camilla.
Shand?
Hmm.
You two still amusing one another,
are you?
We are.
- I like her very much.
- Good. Good.
I like her very much indeed.
Hmm.
The situation is complicated.
I'm not the only interested party.
Oh!
You mean the donkey-walloper?
Parker Bowles? Hmm?
Dickie, I don't want to lose her.
Dear boy,
you're not going to lose any woman.
You're the Prince of Wales.
I mean, I don't want to lose her ever.
Hmm.
She's the one.
Now I think you understand
what I'm saying,
and why I'm going to need your help...
with the family.
Eyes right.
Eyes front.
My fault entirely.
The Shand girl
was only ever meant to be an opportunity
for an inexperienced boy
to sow his wild oats.
That's why I encouraged it. Indulged it.
I never expected him to develop feelings.
Let alone nurture thoughts of...
Don't even say it. It's madness.
And the sooner that girl's back where
she belongs, with Derek's boy, the better.
Hmm, I agree.
How shall we handle this?
Well, I can take care of Charles.
Nice long posting overseas
will bring him to his senses.
I'll speak to everyone at the Admiralty.
Eight months on the other side
of the world, it'll soon go away.
Hmm, let's hope so.
Can I leave the Shands
and the Parker Bowles families to you?
- With pleasure.
- Hmm.
You play the organ, don't you?
I do.
- Hmm. And the pianoforte?
- Yes.
What smooth, elegant hands you have.
Long, delicate fingers.
- You ever seen a pit, Mr. Heath?
- Of course.
Not on your television. In person.
Then let's help you...
get acquainted.
Pick it up.
Go on.
Touch it.
Smell it.
So, next time you're playing the organ
in some cathedral
having lofty thoughts
in the heavens close to God,
think of my members, my comrades,
down there in the heat and the darkness,
digging for coal,
because when they go to work
and break their backs
and risk their lives,
they're nowhere near God.
They're in hell,
and they're doing that day in, day out,
so that you
and everyone else in this country,
can have heat and electricity and power.
We will make no progress,
if you concentrate
only on our differences.
No, you're wrong.
That's the only way we'll make progress.
Until you recognize
the miners' contribution to this country
is what keeps the lights on
in factories, schools, hospitals
and grand rooms like these,
then there can be no agreements
made with the NUM.
Well, let's talk for a minute
about "grand rooms like this."
I'm just as much a stranger
to rooms like this as you are.
My father was a builder.
I got here because I'm the leader
of a political party
elected by the people of this country
to lead their government.
This is not my home.
This is the home
the people of this country
give the Queen's first minister.
It is grand, because we respect democracy.
You can make simple assumptions
about who I am
by virtue of the fact
that I play the organ.
My parents couldn't afford
to buy a piano for me.
They had to pay for it in installments
from a shop in Margate.
No, let's not waste time
on bogus disagreements
about a class struggle between you and me.
I come from a background
not so far removed from you.
But I have chosen democracy, unlike you,
and I will not have you,
or any other hoodlum come in here
and threaten a democratic government
with undemocratic strikes.
This government has its policy,
and will not be deviated from it... ever!
And we have ours...
and nor will we.
Now that talks between the government
and the mineworkers have broken down,
the Prime Minister has come up
with a scheme
for nationwide power cuts
to conserve energy.
Christ.
I've seen battle plans
that are less complicated.
Well, that's exactly
what the government is calling it.
A battle plan to defeat the miners.
And we expect
these power cuts to start soon?
- Yes, ma'am.
- And for how long?
For the rest of this month,
perhaps even year.
What? This will devastate the country.
Indeed, there will be interruptions
to the normal functioning of government
and the judiciary and the civil service.
Hospitals may have
to carry out operations by torchlight.
But Mr. Heath is confident of victory.
As Prime Minister,
I want to speak to you
simply and plainly tonight
about the grave emergency
now facing our country.
In the House of Commons this afternoon,
I announced more severe restrictions
on the use of electricity.
We are asking you
to cut down to the absolute minimum
its use for heating
and for other purposes in your home.
In industry we are limiting
the supply of electricity
to almost all factories, shops and offices
to three days a week.
In terms of comfort,
we shall have a harder Christmas
than we have known since the war.
In the kind of country we live in...
there can be no "we" or "they."
It is only "us."
All of us.
If the government is defeated,
then the country is defeated.
Major and Mrs. Shand, Your Majesty,
and Mr. and Mrs. Parker Bowles.
- Thank you for coming, Major Shand.
- Your Majesty.
- Mrs. Shand.
- Your Majesty.
- Derek.
- Your Majesty.
- Ann.
- Your Majesty.
Please.
You're probably wondering why
I've invited you all here this afternoon.
It's a slightly delicate matter.
Something of an imbroglio
involving your son, Derek,
your daughter, Mrs. Shand,
and my grandson, the Prince of Wales.
Windsor.
You're wanted on the quarterdeck.
Captain's office.
Sir.
Windsor, come in.
We now have the results from the exams,
and the examining body has concluded
that you have met the necessary criteria
to undertake your duties
as officer of the watch.
Your first official posting.
Congratulations.
Am I allowed to know where to?
Oh, Christ! Not again!
Jenkins, fetch another lamp
and some candles, will you?
Yes, sir.
Your Royal Highness.
- Martin.
- Sir.
I wonder if the Queen
might have a minute for me.
Uh, it's not the best moment, sir.
She's writing a speech.
Could you tell her
I've come all the way from Dartmouth
and that it's very important?
Of course, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Her Majesty will see you now, sir.
- Sorry to interrupt, Mummy.
- I didn't know you were on leave.
- I'm not.
- Then why are you here?
- I've come to ask you a question.
- Hmm.
I've been given a posting.
Eight months in the Caribbean.
That's not a question.
I'm not happy about it.
- Still not a question.
- All right.
Here's the question.
- Did you arrange it?
- Why would I have arranged it?
To separate us, break us up.
- Who?
- Camilla Shand and me.
- You said you'd been given a promotion.
- A posting, not a promotion.
And one that makes no sense.
I'm not eligible for a posting yet.
I'm not qualified.
People make all kinds of exceptions
for members of the royal family.
Not the Navy.
They pride themselves on making
no exceptions ever. My question is,
did you or anyone else in this family
have something to do with this?
- Why would we do that?
- I've no idea.
Because she's not "intact,"
or not the right family,
or because she has a mind of her own,
or perhaps just because it amuses everyone
to take two people
who are perfectly happy together
and find a reason to break them up.
Because there is history
of that cruelty in this family!
Well, I won't stand for it!
I won't be pushed aside
like Uncle David or Aunt Margot.
I won't stand for it.
Martin.
Queen Elizabeth and Lord Mountbatten.
I'd like to see them
as soon as possible, together.
Everything was fine.
Everyone was getting what they wanted
and needed from the arrangement.
- Till the boy started talking about love.
- But what if it is love?
Shouldn't it be allowed to run its course?
I was allowed to marry my choice.
That was different.
His rank was different.
The feelings were the same.
The times were different.
His past was different.
Philip was a royal prince.
Does that still matter
in this day and age?
It does.
The system is too... fragile, too precious
to let in unpredictable elements,
dangerous elements.
Camilla isn't dangerous.
She's the first woman Charles has met
that gives him confidence
and comfort and self-belief.
Qualities I think we all agree
he will one day need.
I understand you are both taking steps
to protect the Crown,
but given the history of this family,
I don't think we can afford
to break up two people
that truly love one another.
We've learned that lesson
time and time again.
Trust me.
This is anything but love.
Dickie.
There is something you should know.
♪ He'd like to come and meet us ♪
♪ But he thinks he'd blow our minds ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He's told us not to blow it ♪
♪ 'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile ♪
♪ He told me ♪
♪ Let the children lose it ♪
♪ Let the children use it ♪
♪ Let all the children boogie ♪
♪ Da, da, da, da, da ♪
♪ La, la, la, la, la, la ♪
♪ Da, da, da, da, da ♪
♪ La, la, la, la ♪
♪ La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la ♪
God, what's all this?
Come in, darling.
We'd like to ask you some questions.
And it's important
while answering those questions
that you remain clearheaded,
unemotional, rational and calm.
As opposed to what? The hysterical
and neurotic way I normally behave?
We need to talk to you about your brother.
Which one? I have three.
Charles.
Go on.
Specifically, the suitability
of his match with Camilla Shand.
Match?
We believe it's his intention
to ask her to marry him.
Fine.
As long as he's prepared for there
to always be three in the marriage.
The third being?
Andrew Parker Bowles.
Camilla's first love,
and the man she's still devoted to.
She's not devoted to Charles?
She likes Charles,
but she's obsessed with Andrew.
Spare me.
How do you know all this?
Because I was briefly
caught up in it myself.
Wait a minute.
- When?
- Then. In the past. It doesn't matter.
It was all very straightforward.
He got what he wanted,
which was to make Camilla jealous.
I got what I wanted,
which was a bit of fun.
- Fun?
- Yes, sorry, Mummy. It was.
Is that it? Inquisition over.
Can I go now?
Thank you, darling.
I hope that wasn't too emotional
for you all.
I'd like to speak to Mummy alone.
Right.
That's our cue.
Queens only.
I'm not sure I know where to begin.
Obviously, poor Charles.
- Stupid, naive Charles.
- Yes.
- And Anne?
- Yes.
I mean... who would have thought it?
Hmm.
So, what's the next step?
The families have been spoken to.
A date has been set for Camilla
to be married to the Parker Bowles boy.
Good.
All that's missing is
for someone to let them know.
- Will you tell Charles?
- That would achieve nothing.
It would achieve a great deal.
It would clear the air.
And since you approve of the decision,
as his mother, and Queen,
it's the right thing to do.
It would only create rancor
and resentment,
and while I may approve of the decision,
none of this nonsense was my idea.
Dickie can do it.
This is his mess.
During yesterday's
extended power cuts,
it was almost impossible for
many families who depend on electricity
to cook, or to heat
and light their homes.
Summer camping stoves
and old paraffin lamps
have been brought out of the attic
and dusted down.
It's now almost impossible
to buy a candle, a stove or a heater.
In ironmongers
it's always the same notice,
and orders for fresh supplies
have been in for days.
With millions now unable to work,
people have taken to the streets,
and tensions are starting to rise.
Heath out! Heath out! Heath out!
There are now genuine fears
for the stability of the country,
and the maintenance of law and order.
I don't know where to begin.
What to say.
Is it true? Do you love Andrew?
- It's complicated.
- Nothing complicated about it.
It's a yes or no answer. Do you love him?
Yes.
In a manner of speaking.
I'm such a fool.
But the more time I spent with you,
the more I got to know you,
the more my feelings changed.
Transport is waiting, sir.
- Obviously not enough.
- But that's not true.
Whatever anyone tells you,
you must believe
that my feelings for you are real.
Then why have we allowed them to do this?
Because apparently
this way it'll be better for everyone.
In the long run.
If it were the occasional
blackout, I would understand,
but when it disrupts everyday life,
up and down the country,
indeed threatens lives,
threatens law and order,
I do begin to wonder whether we really
have taken the right course of action.
Well, ma'am,
the government is not to blame.
The National Union of Mineworkers
has been given every opportunity,
and has rejected offer after offer.
Our last, a more than generous package
worth £48 million,
was met with wholesale contempt.
But that does not explain the blackouts.
I distinctly remember you assuring me
that the government had stockpiled
enough coal to weather any storm,
and yet here we are.
It's true, the strikes have lasted longer
than we anticipated,
and the stubbornness
of the miners and unions
has been considerably more violent.
I think we can safely say
there has been stubbornness on both sides.
And one does wonder
if we have failed to understand
the scale of the miners' anger.
Indeed if we have failed
to understand them, as people.
Wedding anniversary speech written?
Yes.
Excessively gushing in the "liege man
of life and limb" department?
I do feel slightly for Charles.
Yes.
It will hurt.
And for a while
it might even feel like a betrayal.
But then he'll come to his senses,
and it will be forgotten.
I hope so.
I must admit, my Lord Mayor,
that the first 25 years of marriage
have rather crept up on us.
I'm not much given to philosophizing,
but from time to time
one is presented with an opportunity
to reflect upon what has contributed
to the success of something.
And in the case of our marriage,
it's family.
The rock upon which any enduring marriage
must surely be founded.
A network of brothers, sisters,
mothers and fathers,
cousins and relations.
A filigree of a thousand tiny threads,
woven together
by blood, kinship and trust.
Only there,
within that crucible
of family relationships,
can a successful union
between two people be forged.
Fealty, allegiance,
obedience and devotion.
These are Christian values
that sustain a marriage...
and that bind a family together.
To realize that elusive state
of being a happy family
is a tireless struggle, a battle...
but it is a battle worth fighting
for there is nothing in life to match it.
The right kind of partnership...
with the right kind of partner
is the foundation
on which a successful family must rest.
Marriage is a proposition
some in the modern world
would question...
but it is a proposition about which,
when asked,
I can reply, plainly and unequivocally...
"I am for it."
Thank you.
♪ Didn't know what time it was
And the lights were low ♪
♪ I leaned back on my radio ♪
♪ Some cat was layin' down
Some rock 'n' roll ♪
♪ "Lotta soul," he said ♪
♪ Then the loud sound did seem to fade ♪
♪ Came back like slow voice
On a wave of phase ♪
♪ That weren't no DJ
That was hazy cosmic jive ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He'd like to come and meet us
But he thinks he'd blow our minds ♪
♪ There's a starman waiting in the sky ♪
♪ He's told us not to blow it
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile ♪
♪ He told me
"Let the children lose it ♪"
♪ Let the children use it ♪
"♪ Let all the children boogie" ♪