The Crown review: A funny, moving finale as Queen Elizabeth, Prince Philip and Prince William all have moments

It is The Crown’s final scene of the final episode of the final series and the Duke of Edinburgh has briefly lost his wife. “Ah, there you are!” he cries, finding her praying. “Yes, here I still am!”

This is a running gag. The Queen has been having, as it were, intimations of monarchy. Has she kept calm and carried on for too long? Philip is having none of it. She’s the best person for the job, indeed the only capable one. She’s “different” from the rest of The Firm. Being royal comes naturally to her. “The others,” he sighs, “always seem to make such a mess of it.”

What a mess. “The largest outdoor shaving cream fight on the planet.” That’s one of Prince William’s chums on some typical St Andrews Uni downtime but it could just about stand as a description of the shenanigans of the House of Windsor during the later years of the reign of Elizabeth II, and certainly how they’ve been depicted in the Netflix saga.

For some loyal subjects, watching events unfold, The Crown has slipped. That simply didn’t happen! This is dramatic licence gone mad! The most pro-royalist newspapers have subjected the scripts to wartime codebreaker scrutiny with podcasts on red alert for grave inaccuracies. But in these six instalments to complete the story I defy you not to be moved. And I defy you not to laugh as well.

Imelda Staunton is magisterial as Queen Elizabeth

For instance, a wedding ceremony is over, the bride and groom have departed, how do the guests keep the party going? “Joyriding, some ramraiding perhaps,” deadpans the Queen (Imelda Staunton, brilliant). Did she really say this right after Charles and Camilla’s nuptials? Who cares?

Though she’s not completely au fait with the modern world. “Wacky baccy,” says William, explaining away Harry’s latest screaming headlines. “What?” says the Queen. “The ganga, Granny.” Possibly made up, but funny.

And when William’s exam results come through from Eton and it’s A for geography and the Princess Royal chortles over this being the first time anyone in the family has achieved such a mark? Well, it seems possible.

And the Duke of Edinburgh? In the wake of the “Harry the Nazi” front pages, he’s supposed to have roared at the fancy-dress outfitters: “The uniform was inaccurate. The German Africa Corps never wore swastikas!” Surely that’s spot-on.

Of the six, four episodes aren’t exactly two-handers - this is The Crown so everything’s still big-big-big, including “Willsmania” for the blushing, awkward young heir - but they pivot on conversations which are one-to-one, no punches pulled, and the first involves William (Ed McVey) and Charles (Dominic West).

The boy is still angry with his father over his mother’s death, shouting at him: “She should have been safe and the fact she wasn’t is your fault.” William can’t cope with the media attention. He’ll have to get used to it, says Dad. William snaps back: “I’m not the one who has to endear himself. I’m not the one with the image problem.” (Ouch). Charles, remembering what the D of E was like with him, confides to Camilla: “I’m afraid we don’t do fathers and sons well in this family.” Philip acknowledges this and attempts rapprochement.

Next it’s the Queen vs Tony Blair, Her Maj waking from a nightmare about having been deposed by him as choirboys trill the new national anthem - “Things Can Only Get Better”. The Prime Minister is popular - a unifier “like I used to be” - and so she asks for his PR advice.

“What would I do if I were King? Goodness … ” he titters, before returning for his next audience with proposals for a monarchy drastically modernised and slimmed down. But the Queen doesn’t want to get rid of her Warden of the Swans, Lord High Admiral of the Wash and certainly not the Yeoman of the Glass and China Pantry.

I don’t think Blair will enjoy watching Bertie Carvel portray him as if he’s permanently constipated, and especially not the moment when “King Tony” suggests Harry, following another indiscretion, should offer an apology followed by a period of contrition and the Queen retorts: “Is that the advice you’ll be giving yourself over Iraq?”

Harry probably won’t enjoy these episodes either, not least for Luther Ford’s borstal-boy bowl-cut, though he would have to concede that his angry memoir Spare has supplied the writers with plenty of ammo. And someone else who may cringe: Kate Middleton’s mum.

She’s seen as a social climber who plots to bring about the fairytale romance, urging her daughter before that St Andrews fashion gala: “You want to show those legs. It’s our duty to make use of the assets God has given us.” The see-through dress does the trick. The “frigid weirdo” - Harry’s chiding of his bro - can’t stop his eyes popping, cartoon-like, out of his head. And surely Meg Bellamy, like Vanessa Kirby and Erin Doherty from The Crown previously, can’t stop becoming a star after this.

Maybe my favourite episode is where the Queen and Princess Margaret reflect on their deep bond, sisters who danced the banned-in-Britain jitterbug on VE Day before their lives inevitably took different paths, though some will question why Margaret’s decline and all those strokes have to be shown in such detail.

And then it’s on to the finale. After some stand-up comedy at Charles’ marriage, the Queen must plan her own funeral, indicating a preference for “a quiet service in Scotland, out of sight and over in 20 minutes”. Philip, who’s been doing the same, suggests they’ll be well out of it. “The party’s over, and the good news is that while Rome falls and the temple burns, we will sleep, dearie, sleep.”