Lesley Manville is well-versed in playing a sibling who is used to playing second fiddle to the main act. Whether slowly sipping a cup of tea while delivering a withering put-down to Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) in The Phantom Thread or unleashing the decades-long buried pain of Princess Margaret’s broken heart in The Crown, the veteran actress is a forceful presence.
(Warning: Spoilers ahead for Season 5 of The Crown.)
Forbidden love is a hot topic in The Crown’s fifth season. It’s certainly not the first time that Peter Morgan’s much-talked-about Netflix series has stoked the flames of royal romance—and the contentious subject of divorce.
It might all seem rather quaint in 2022 (after all, the new King of England did eventually marry his divorcée bride), but when Margaret announced she would not wed Peter Townsend in 1955, it even made the front page of The New York Times. And when Townsend died in 1995, his obituary became a recap of the marriage that never was. It is a topic revisited in “Annus Horribilis”—probably the best episode of the new Crown batch—allowing Manville to run the gauntlet from lingering bitterness to the giddy glow of first love.
No matter how you feel about The Crown, everyone can agree that casting directors Robert Sterne and Nina Gold have struck gold. The casting of Margaret has been especially keen, beginning with Vanessa Kirby in the first two seasons, then Helena Bonham Carter in the middle years, and now Manville—between them, they have four Oscar nominations.
Kirby’s depiction of Margaret’s youthful exuberance, quickly tempered by a fairy-tale union that ended in a breakup, lays the foundation for public adoration. Whether singing at the piano with her beloved papa before his death or flirting it up a storm with a photographer cad, Margaret’s unfettered behavior contrasts with her duty-bound sister.
Of course, she picks the system over her heart, and by the time Bonham Carter takes over, she swings wildly from an amateur sleuth uncovering a deep dark family secret, like she is Jessica Fletcher, to a caftan-wearing drunk mess. Resentment at being the “spare” (long before Prince Harry) has dissipated, but deep wounds fester.
Enter Manville, whose Margaret is stuck in a routine of tea with honey and lemon first thing in the morning, before cigarettes and cocktails take over.
Caftans, younger love interests, and trips abroad are replaced by a rotation of chic robes, patterned pussy-bow blouses, and glamorous gowns—and a flame from the past. No matter her age, Margaret’s style is impeccable; Manville lying nonchalantly on the couch in her loungewear makes me question my choice of TV-watching sweats and knits.
Manville’s first appearance is low-key, but heavy on the sparking wit—her attempt to protect her sister’s feelings. At the Ghillies Ball, she dances and gives the new Prime Minister, John Major (Jonny Lee Miller), a classics-infused history lesson. Whereas Margaret Thatcher (Gillian Anderson) failed to handle herself in this elite circle, Major responds to the Royalsplaining without breaking a sweat.
Manville’s tone is part playful and part cutting, and the image of her casually leaning against a fireplace with a coupe glass in one hand and a cigarette holder in the other is a reminder of her role within this family. At this point, she is part of the party furniture, and a weariness is baked into this rebellious image.
Signs that a life of heavy drinking and smoking is catching up come in the form of a hacking morning cough. The soothing hot elixir is required first thing. Manville is afforded more to do in her first season than in Bonham Carter’s last, which comes at the hands of a letter from the one that got away.
Because The Crown isn’t a documentary (no, really), timeline fudging is to be expected. In reality, Margaret’s appearance on the long-running BBC Radio series Desert Island Discs occurred a decade earlier, with different song choices than those in Season 5’s fourth episode. Music and Margaret go hand in hand, and it is not surprising that Hoagy Carmichael’s “Stardust” replaces Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “Sixteen Tons” as a romantic prompt. Dramatic license heralds the arrival of Timothy Dalton as the older Captain Peter Townsend—it feels right that a former James Bond is playing this part—after he hears his ex mention this particular song.
The show uses the classic hymn “Abide With Me” to underscore the overarching themes, regarding Elizabeth’s Church of England figurehead role that is placing a roadblock in the way of Charles’ (Dominic West) wish to divorce Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) with the hope of remarrying Camilla (Olivia Williams).
This kind of unsubtle intersection of stories cranks up the melodrama as Charles is far from the only one with divorce and remarriage on his mind. Princess Anne (Claudia Harrison) is facing a situation like her aunt’s from a few decades ago. History has a habit of repeating, and The Crown draws a direct line in flashing neon from one Windsor to another. But even when the material leaves little room for nuance, Manville takes the occasionally clunky dialogue and makes it sing.
“Stardust” causes Margaret’s “audit of the heart,” a melancholy turn of phrase punctuated by Peter listening to the broadcast. Memory and age are overtly referenced, which ties into her sister’s ongoing battle for relevance in the public eye. Manville nearly opens her soul to reveal her thoughts on lasting love, before closing it tightly when the presenter asks probing questions. She might be more forthright and outgoing than the monarch, but she still plays by the stoic rules of this family.
Manville recaptures the early first blushes of love, mirroring Kirby in the first season, but with hindsight as her guide. Chuckling to herself at a joke she made about her age could be cringe-worthy; instead, in the Oscar nominee’s hands, it is rather sweet.
But Margaret’s headstrong persona takes a backseat as soon as she claps eyes on her former beau, as the band plays an instrumental version of “Stardust.”
This interpretation of their song veers toward cheesy territory, but both Manville and Dalton effortlessly play the weight of the nearly 40 years since they last saw each other. Instead of making an early exit, the Margaret who commands the piano reappears, and all eyes are on her. Her pink number begs to be adored in a sea of black tuxedos and muted frocks.
Flashbacks to the highs and lows of this tryst are prompted by old love letters they both kept, and while it is nice to see Kirby again, it is unnecessary to press rewind on moments we have already seen. Manville alone is more than equipped to register this kaleidoscope of feelings without resorting to a clip package—if it was new scenes featuring Kirby, then I might feel different.
Perhaps the most rewarding dynamic of the whole series (no matter the pair of actresses) is whenever the siblings go head to head. Playing down her younger sister’s love for Captain Townsend could be read as the queen assuaging her guilt in breaking up a genuine love affair.
After rereading letters about and talking about some of their horniest moments (in the now-destroyed but appropriately named Crimson Room at Windsor Castle), Margaret goes to see her sister. She has not stopped by to offer Lilibet comfort about the recent fire, but to pour gasoline on the embers of an old flame. She can barely spit out her hypothetical motive for arson, which cuts to the core when Manville utters, “Because of what she denied.”
Years of hurt are dredged up because her niece Anne is being allowed what Margaret was not: “The situation is identical except for the outcome.” Letting her sister have it with both barrels is part of this tour de force that has echoes of what Bonham Carter and Kirby did before her. Whereas affairs and a monarchy shakeup take up the majority of this season, this sisterly bond commands our attention.
Even though Manville only became a household name since eviscerating Day-Lewis in Phantom Menace, she has been building an impressive resume across TV, film, and theater since the mid-1970s. (“Don’t pick a fight with me, you certainly won’t come out alive. I’ll go right through you, and it’ll be you who ends up on the floor. Understood?” is a line reading I think about a lot.)
Getting to play an 18th-century French noblewoman receiving sexual pleasure in the new Dangerous Liaisons adaptation on Starz, in the same year as Princess Margaret, is a treat for fans, new and old. This new iteration is a prequel that sees Manville as Marquise Genevieve de Merteuil, a woman who is about to find herself in the unique position of being blackmailed and offering to help a young woman trying to free herself of shitty circumstances.
The mix of vulnerability and stoicism is a Manville signature, and it is no wonder that she fits perfectly into this role. Not to mention that she also appeared in the original 1985 RSC stage adaptation of Les Liaisons dangereuses.
Kitchen-sink dramas from director Mike Leigh are a staple of her past, showcasing Manville’s depth. However, her wheelhouse now includes a leading role in a delightful 1950s Cinderella of sorts, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris. Buying a Dior dress is this working-class widow’s dream, and this movie is an enchanting treat from start to finish. On PBS’s Masterpiece, you can see her in the whodunnit series The Magpie Murders, playing an editor convinced there is more to the death of her client than meets the eye.
Earlier this year, she starred in the gritty BBC series Sherwood, in which she portrays the wife of a murdered former miner in a story based on a real crime. A bare-faced Manville commands the screen in this gripping drama. She even had time to reprise her role as narrator on the HBO Max anthology series Love Life.
When Manville was one of the first names announced for the fifth season of The Crown, it was clear that Margaret would be in good hands. The actress is more in demand than ever before, and whether playing a princess, cleaner, or sleuth, Manville has more than earned this TV reign.
