Peter Morgan had a massive problem after the first ten episodes of his Netflix juggernaut. He’d already established Claire Foy as a powerhouse Queen Elizabeth II, but the honeymoon phase of her reign was over. The Crown TV series season 2 didn't just lean into the comfort of period costumes; it tore the scabs off the British Monarchy during one of its most fragile decades.
It’s 1956. The world is changing.
The British Empire is basically gasping its last breath while the Suez Crisis turns into a geopolitical nightmare. Honestly, watching Robert Stephens and Jeremy Northam play out the political suicide of Anthony Eden is still some of the best television ever written. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exactly why we keep coming back to this show even years after its release.
Suez and the Death of British Deference
The second season kicks off with the Suez Crisis, and if you aren't a history buff, you might miss just how much this moment broke the UK’s ego. Prime Minister Anthony Eden, played with a sort of twitchy, desperate brilliance, decides to invade Egypt. It’s a disaster. The U.S. gets angry, the pound crashes, and Elizabeth is left holding the bag for a government that looks increasingly out of touch.
This isn't just a history lesson. It’s the backdrop for the Queen’s realization that being "above politics" is a luxury she can’t always afford. The show handles the transition from the post-WWII glow to the cold reality of the Cold War with a cynical, sharp edge. You see the cracks in the facade.
Most people remember the fashion, but the real meat of The Crown TV series season 2 is the rotting prestige of the old guard. Harold Macmillan eventually takes over, and things don't exactly get easier. The "Never Had It So Good" era was actually full of scandals like the Profumo affair, which the show weaves into the narrative with a heavy sense of dread.
Prince Philip and the Mid-life Crisis of the Century
Matt Smith’s portrayal of Prince Philip is polarizing. Some hate him; some get him. In season 2, the writers don't hold back on his petulance. The five-month tour on the Britannia is essentially a royal "boys' trip" that creates a massive rift in the marriage.
The show handles the rumors of Philip’s infidelities with a lot of nuance. It never shows him actually cheating—Morgan is too smart for that—but it shows the possibility of it everywhere. The Galina Ulanova plotline? That’s based on real speculation. The ballerina’s photo in Philip’s briefcase is the kind of quiet, devastating detail that makes this season better than almost anything that followed.
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It’s about more than just a bored husband, though. It’s about a man who lost his identity when he became a "consort."
The Margaret Problem
Vanessa Kirby is, quite frankly, a revelation. If you want to see what a "spare" looks like before the modern era, watch her portrayal of Princess Margaret in this season. She’s grieving Peter Townsend. She’s drinking. She’s searching for anything that feels real in a world made of cardboard and protocol.
Then enters Antony Armstrong-Jones.
Matthew Goode plays Tony with a dangerous, bohemian energy that cuts through the stuffy palace air. Their courtship is fast and reckless. The scene where he takes her portrait—the one where she looks naked, even though she isn't—is a turning point for the monarchy’s public image. It was the first time a royal looked like a human being with a pulse and a secret.
- The wedding was the first to be televised.
- It cost over £26,000 at the time.
- It signaled the "swinging sixties" hitting the palace gates.
But beneath the glamour, the show highlights the tragedy. Margaret is trying to fill a hole in her soul with a man who is just as damaged as she is. It’s a train wreck you can’t look away from.
Education of a Future King
One of the best episodes in the entire series is "Paterfamilias." It jumps between Philip’s traumatic childhood at Gordonstoun and Prince Charles’s miserable experience at the same school.
Philip sees Gordonstoun as the place that made him a man after his family fell apart and his sister died in a plane crash. Charles? He sees it as a "prison with kilts." The contrast is heartbreaking. You see why Charles grew up to be the man he is, and you see why Philip was so hard on him. It’s a cycle of generational trauma played out in the mud of Scotland.
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Lord Altrincham and the Modernization of the Crown
If you’re looking for the moment the Monarchy actually changed, it’s the episode "Marionettes." John Grigg (Lord Altrincham) writes a scathing critique of the Queen’s speaking style and her "tweedy" court.
Initially, the Palace wants to bury him. But the public agrees with him.
The Queen’s decision to meet him in secret—and eventually to televise the Christmas Message for the first time—is the ultimate survival move. The Crown TV series season 2 argues that the Queen’s greatest strength isn't her power, but her ability to bend so she doesn't break. She listens to a critic who calls her a "priggish schoolgirl" because she knows the alternative is becoming irrelevant.
The Jackie Kennedy Contrast
When the Kennedys visit Buckingham Palace, it’s a total culture clash.
The Queen feels like a middle-aged woman in a dusty museum compared to Jackie’s Parisian chic and effortless cool. The show plays with the idea that Elizabeth was genuinely jealous. But then, it pulls a fast one by showing Jackie’s own vulnerabilities—the pills, the pressure, the crumbling marriage.
When the news of JFK’s assassination hits, the Queen’s reaction isn't just political grief. It’s a shared understanding of what it means to be a global icon trapped in a nightmare.
Why Season 2 is Actually the Peak
A lot of fans argue that the later seasons with Olivia Colman or Imelda Staunton lost some of the magic. There’s a reason for that. Season 2 was the perfect middle ground between the "old world" and the "new world." It had the best cast chemistry, and the stakes felt more personal because the characters were still young enough to fight their destinies.
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The writing avoided the heavy-handedness that sometimes plagued the Diana years. It was subtle. It let the silence do the talking.
Moving Forward with The Crown
If you’re revisiting the series or diving in for the first time, keep an eye on the background. The sets and costumes in The Crown TV series season 2 aren't just there to look pretty; they tell the story of a shrinking empire. Notice how the colors shift from the warm golds of the coronation to the colder blues and greys of the 1960s.
To get the most out of your rewatch:
- Compare the "Paterfamilias" episode with historical accounts of Gordonstoun; it's surprisingly accurate about the "Star" system.
- Look up the real Lord Altrincham's 1957 editorial to see just how close the script stayed to his actual words.
- Watch the 1957 Christmas broadcast on YouTube right after the episode—the recreation is eerie in its precision.
The series is a masterclass in blending "what we know" with "what we imagine." It’s not a documentary, and it shouldn't be treated as one. It’s a character study of a woman who had to kill her own personality to save an institution. That tension is never higher than it is in these ten episodes.
The historical nuances of the Suez Crisis and the Profumo affair provide enough political intrigue to satisfy history buffs, while the domestic drama keeps the emotional stakes high. It’s the definitive look at the British Monarchy’s struggle to remain relevant in a world that was rapidly deciding it didn't need kings and queens anymore.
Focus on the performances of Foy and Smith as they navigate the shift from a young married couple to the pillars of a crumbling establishment. Their chemistry drives the season, making the political scandals feel like personal betrayals. It’s high-stakes, high-budget, and arguably the finest stretch of episodes the show ever produced.