As a lifelong “No. 2,” Princess Margaret led a bittersweet existence. The most “dazzling” of the royals, she epitomized glamour and charm while simultaneously living with constant heartache and a lack of purpose. So it’s hardly surprising that the Margaret-centric episodes of The Crown were usually far more interesting than those dedicated to Queen Elizabeth.
This argument holds true for season six’s sole episode devoted to the queen’s illustrious sister, which covers her slow decline and eventual death at age 71 in February 2002. While it’s impossible to avoid the upsetting details of Margaret’s poor health, the episode also pays a beautiful tribute to not just the spirited princess but the decadeslong love between sisters Lillibet and Margaret Rose via a rollicking flashback to V-E Day.
“Ritz” opens on May 8, 1945. Victory has been declared in Europe, and 14-year-old Princess Margaret is ready to party, while 19-year-old Princess Elizabeth is skeptical about joining the massive crowds. If any of this sounds familiar, it’s because this is the premise of the 2015 movie A Royal Night Out. Although both the film and “Ritz” go the fictional route, this V-E Day incident involving the teenage princesses is based in fact: Elizabeth and Margaret did indeed leave the confines of Buckingham Palace to revel in the crowds, but they were in a large group of people, and they didn’t stay out all night.
The Crown also includes more accurate details than A Royal Night Out: Elizabeth wears her Auxiliary Territorial Service uniform (she wore a pink evening dress in the film), and the princesses are accompanied by Lillibet’s stalwart pal Lord Porchester, a.k.a. Porchey, and Margaret’s soon-to-be paramour, Group Captain Peter Townsend.
The foursome head into the London streets, and immediately we see how Elizabeth’s sheltered existence has left her woefully unprepared for life beyond the palace walls: She’s shocked by a couple kissing in public! Margaret then leads the small party to the Ritz hotel, giving her older sister her orders for the evening: “Be irresponsible for just once.”
We then cut to the “present,” which, in this case, is circa 1998. Margaret is daydreaming about that night while playing cards with the queen. She’s trying to reminisce about their wild V-E Day, but all her attempts are in vain because Elizabeth refuses to acknowledge the only night she apparently let loose. Margaret sings a few bars of a jazzy tune called “It Ain’t My Fault,” a song that will become more relevant later, but the queen isn’t having it. That night was supposed to remain a secret. Hmm …
Sadly, Elizabeth will soon be forced to reckon with her sister’s mortality — and their raucous night out 50 years earlier. While regaling friends and hangers-on at her home in Mustique with a bawdy poem written about her, Margaret suffers the first of several strokes.
And since this is Princess Margaret we’re talking about, she’d rather go out with a bang than deprive herself of life’s delightful vices. So, no, she’s not giving up drinking, smoking, or “sweet treats,” even if that means cutting her life short two decades before her sister’s own death. (The look of disgust on Lesley Manville’s face when she’s served nicotine gum on a tray is priceless.) After recovering from her stroke, Margaret dashes back to Mustique, dead set on resuming her carousing lifestyle, but this decision only results in another stroke and permanent damage to her feet, stemming from a bathtub scalding.
In typical Margaret fashion, the princess still isn’t interested in healing her body. Instead, she wants to throw herself a ginormous 70th-birthday party (which now puts us in the year 2000). At the Ritz. To the queen’s horror. Okay, we get it. Something major happened at the Ritz back in 1945. What was it?
Returning to the flashback, the sisters arrive at the upscale hotel, where they join the sedate festivities with fellow blue bloods in the main ballroom. Elizabeth goes to check her coat, and that’s when things get interesting. She bumps into a handsome Black American GI who invites her to join him downstairs. Lillibet is intrigued, but as she approaches the stairs, a snooty white British officer advises her to stay away. Why? Well, because below stairs is a crowd of frightful Americans dancing something called the “jitterbug.” This British arsehole then condemns the evil jitterbug because it’s a dance from Harlem. “A ghetto in New York,” he says. Oh, she’s TOTALLY going downstairs now.
Back in the present, Margaret’s birthday party is in full swing. The queen and Porchey look uncomfortable as Margaret launches into a full-blown tale about that madcap night in 1945. But she only gets as far as “a very different side of the young Princess Elizabeth was revealed” before the queen, desperate to keep her image under control, takes over. Elizabeth is so smooth here, explaining that the reason they’re all there is to celebrate Margaret, not her. (She has a point.) The queen then honors Margaret as her “constant companion,” telling jolly stories about their childhood, like how Margaret had an imaginary friend named “Cousin Halifax.” She also acknowledges how hard things were for Margaret, being the “No. 2” in the family. It’s obvious she’s scared there isn’t much time left for her dear sister. And suddenly, we’re all crying.
Mainly because Elizabeth wasn’t wrong, while chatting with her sister on the phone afterward, Margaret is doing everything possible to shorten her life. She shovels chocolates into her mouth and coughs a distinctive smoker’s cough. We’re being smacked over the head with foreshadowing, but it doesn’t make what happens next any less upsetting: Margaret sustains yet another stroke.
From the moment Elizabeth visits Margaret in the hospital, we know this is the beginning of the end. Elizabeth tries to remain positive, but Margaret is in bad shape. What ensues is a gorgeous, silent scene between Imelda Staunton and a makeup-less Lesley Manville, with Margaret holding her sister’s hand tightly while a single tear slides down her cheek. Elizabeth isn’t ready to let Margaret go yet, but she knows she must.
Once Margaret is back at home, The Crown establishes that she’s now confined to a wheelchair and that her health continued to deteriorate over the next year and a half by jumping forward to September 11, 2001. It is a day of sorrow due to the 9/11 attacks and Porchey’s death.
Then we get a sweet sisterly scene where Elizabeth lies in bed with a sickly Margaret, reading her “Sir Roderick Comes to Lunch” by P.G. Wodehouse. (This was a deliberate detail, as Margaret mentions in the flashback that the Ritz was featured in the short story.) Margaret, meanwhile, will not let their unforgettable night at the Ritz go, causing further consternation with her sister, who would rather forget how “irresponsible” she was. Aha! She did listen to Margaret’s commands!
So, what did you do, Lillibet? Participate in a drug deal? A threeway? Murder? The suspense is killing me after such a buildup! Margaret talks about how Elizabeth “caused havoc that night” and how, as queen, she’s been forced to “lock up” so much of her “true self.” It’s not until she leaves Margaret to sleep that Elizabeth allows the tears to well up and for the memories to come flooding back.
We watch as a young Elizabeth descends into a dark, crowded basement called “The Pink Sink.” (Yep, the Pink Sink was a very real underground safe space inside the Ritz for the gay community.) Loud, hot jazz fills the room, where everyone is either swing dancing or making out (or both). (Think Baby entering the staff quarters during the “Do You Love Me?” sequence.) But instead of Patrick Swayze, Elizabeth gets to dance with the handsome GI from earlier. She is beaming from ear to ear, watching people of all colors and sexual orientations drinking and dancing up a storm because, as her new American friend tells her, “Down here, there’s no rank or background. Just music.” Everything about this scene represents what Elizabeth gave up for the sake of duty: unbridled joy, acceptance, and nonconformity. Is it infused with a little too much 2023 attitude? Of course it is, but who cares when you get to watch the future Queen Elizabeth II swing dance with a bunch of strangers?
Eventually, Margaret, Porchey, and Peter stumble upon the way cooler Pink Sink party too. Margaret is thrilled to see her sister letting her hair down, immediately joining Elizabeth on the dance floor. They dance the night away to “It Ain’t My Fault,” the peppy jazz tune older Margaret has been singing throughout the episode.
In the early hours of the morning, the exhausted sisters walk back home along an empty mall to Buckingham Palace. (I call bullshit here: For two women who purportedly stayed out all night drinking and dancing in a sweaty club, their flawless hair and makeup tell a very different story.) Elizabeth is chewing gum and casually mentions she kissed a random guy. Oh, Lillibet, you saucy minx!
When teenage Elizabeth turns to ask her sister if she’s coming inside for breakfast, Lesley Manville replaces the teenage Margaret, mournfully informing Elizabeth she can’t join her. But before Margaret leaves her sister forever, she promises to always be by her side. Hi, I’m bawling.
A title card informs the audience of Princess Margaret’s death on February 9, 2002.
My only criticism of “Ritz” is how, as in life, Margaret still had to step back and allow her sister to be center stage, only for the big reveal to be such a letdown by 2023 standards. Oh, wow, the future queen did the jitterbug with a Black man. (So what? Nearly 20 years later, she danced on the world stage with the president of Ghana!) She stayed out all night! She chewed gum and kissed a stranger! I know that behavior would’ve been considered scandalous for much of the queen’s life — which is just dumb — but watching it now and seeing what her children and grandchildren have been up to since then, it really feels like much ado about nothing.
Crown Jewels
• It wouldn’t have been right to have Claire Foy and Vanessa Kirby reprise their roles for this flashback (both are in their 30s), but I applaud The Crown for casting such excellent Foy and Kirby look-alikes (Viola Prettejohn and Beau Gadson, respectively) as the teenage princesses.
• Fact-check: It kills me to point this out because I loved the use of “It Ain’t My Fault” in this episode. The jubilant song is an anachronism: It was written in 1964.
• The saxophonist credited during the “It Ain’t My Fault” scenes is named Snow White Trash. Find me a better drag name, I dare you. Props must also go to Chastity Belt, the singer who turned out such a memorable rendition of the classic New Orleans jazz tune.
