The Coronation – Queen shines in a surprisingly fun royal coup
After decades of negotiations, the BBC put its access to good use. ‘Coronation expert’ Alastair Bruce guides the action, but it’s the smiling sovereign who stars
Lucy Mangan, Sun 14 Jan 2018 21.00 GMT
In 1930, MGM could revel in its success. Anna Christie was released to the accompaniment of the blazing promise “Garbo talks!” to mark the first time the silent film star had given utterance on camera.
I suspect the BBC’s publicity department collectively ruptured several vital organs as they strained not to do the same with their coup. After 22 years of negotiations, our notoriously camera-hating sovereign agreed to talk on camera in The Coronation, a documentary to mark 65 years since she ascended the throne. “Queenie speaks!” was surely the strapline everyone wanted. Closely followed by “Farkin’ ’ell!”
The Coronation was presented by former herald and “coronation expert” Alastair Bruce, because this is 2018 and this is England and no one had the balls to let Alan Bennett do it, but do you know what? It could have been a lot worse.
The tone was only ever momentarily reverential, and when it slipped into that squishy territory it was usually the Queen herself who yanked it back out on to dry land.
Watching Her Majesty’s personal footage of the 1953 ceremony’s aftermath, as the young Prince Charles and Princess Anne played hide-and-seek underneath her train, Bruce murmured “Such fun for the children.”
“Not what they were meant to do,” the mother-monarch replied tartly.
Later, when Bruce asked the white-gloved crown jeweller (one of the three people who is allowed to touch it; this is 2018, this is England) “if the crown can be brought a little closer to the Queen”, she moved it herself.
“This is what I do when I wear it!”, our Sovereign grinned delightedly, the spider at the centre of a webby mass of protocol and etiquette, across whose sticky strands only she can stride safely.
When Her Majesty was not on screen, obsequiousness was kept at bay by concentrating on the origins of the regalia and the ceremony, wisely treating them all as embodiments and vectors of history rather than mere accretions of pageantry.
It won’t turn you from republican to ardent monarchist to know that although the St Edward’s Crown was created in 1661 for Charles II, the makers strove to replicate Edward the Confessor’s. They did that to assure a people riven by civil war that there would be a return to medieval certainties, but it is surely fairer to know what it is you are embracing or dismissing.
Contemporary footage showed the breathtaking scale of the preparations and the Duke of Norfolk’s talent for organisation down to the last detail (the maids of honour had phials of smelling salts tucked behind their glove buttons in case they fainted). Though I guess it comes slightly easier when overseeing extraordinary state occasions has been your family’s raison d’etre for five centuries.