Forget Diana Ross, Rod Stewart and Elton John calling in an appearance from abroad. It would always be a difficult act to follow Paddington’s bear and the corgi lights show at the Saturday night party at the palace. But the royal family had decided that there should be four days of platinum jubilee celebration, and so the show had to continue. This time at a pageant that sometimes seemed like it was organized by Prince Edward for It’s a Royal Knockout.
BBC coverage began an hour and a half earlier at 1pm and presenter Kirsty Young initially seemed unable to cope with another day of having to ask random guests why the monarchy was so important to both them and in the nation. I had already heard almost every possible answer, most of which were variations in service, service, and no one had found anything better.
But Young is a classy act – I missed him while he was sick – and he soon got started, somehow provoking the best of the most unlikely people. Cliff Richard, who looked at least half his age and wore a horrible union jack blazer, initially looked quite annoyed at not being invited to the concert the night before and being demoted to a small role in a bus, but Young persuaded him. to smile at his inconsistency in meeting the queen. He then got Len Goodman to reveal that his dwarf had had a corgi named Brenda. Really. The only person who proved to be resistant to charms was Sebastian Coe. But then it has always been unbearable.
With the rain enduring – the time had been thought of declaring himself a staunch Republican – the show began with the golden state coach that had been used for the coronation in 1953 was withdrawn to the shopping centre. He then passed the royal box office, where Prince Charles rose to receive a hologram greeting from his 26-year-old mother at the back of the carriage. A really surreal moment. Although not as strange as if the queen had been good enough to attend and had to accept a digital version of her younger self.
Yet no one in the stands seemed to think there was anything strange. Or if they did, they would shut up. At that time, the audience seemed quieter than in the last days, as if they were all partying too and had already said everything they wanted about the royal family. Clare Balding and the rest of the commentators went completely unnoticed in the many empty seats and no one bothered to boo Boris Johnson this time. This level of apathy.
The next 40 minutes were a bit of a struggle as several members of the armed forces passed by. It was as if on Thursday you put your mind to sleep with the color with all the funny pieces taken out. The comment came in desperation and the highlight was an anecdote about royal marines polishing their marrow helmets with White for coronation and covering their faces and uniforms with white paint. Balding then insisted that Tom Cruise do all his own stunts, which supposedly means he can fly supersonic planes and land them on aircraft carriers. Then the military band started playing what looked like the Advance Australia Fair. That was random.
Things were picked up with a bicycle procession from the 1950s to the present day – I really wanted a Raleigh Chopper in the early 1970s – and then we got a series of buses that represented every decade of the queen’s reign. Cliff appeared with Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men on the 1950s bus, and Lulu, now in the communications, said nostalgically, “Oh, the decade of free love” as the 1960s bus passed. Although it was a very selective view of what each decade had to offer. No one seemed to realize that the 1950s was a time of rationing and the 1970s was the era of the three-day week. Aid, financial crash, austerity, Brexit and food banks received no mention either. I’m sure it was just a carelessness.
From then on, things fell apart as the parade fell almost into chaos. Or, to give it a more positive twist, this was Britain relaxing after having its best behavior for three days and satisfying its eccentricity to the fullest. It was like a carnival in which it was much more fun to participate than to really see it. It’s not that he didn’t have his charms. There was great diversity with an Indian wedding, lots of African wildlife puppets, farm animals and some dancing flowers.
There was also a Lady Godiva of Coventry with her top put on, thankfully, and a princess and a dragon who apparently represented the “personified wisdom” of the queen. On my head, that one. My favorites were the mischievous toy corgis that ran around the mall as if they were out of their heads with magic mushrooms. Do not care. We were repeatedly told that everyone in the Commonwealth loved Britain and the Queen. At no point did anyone attempt to address the difficult history of the British Empire. This was a bleached island story. One for the cookie cans.
“The rest of the world will be amazed to see this,” one commenter said, hyperventilating himself with the gas of laughter. This was not a country that celebrated both its monarch and a country that made virtue of its own collective psychosis. Perhaps this is even what the royal family has come to represent at the end of the day. Because on top of the royal box, the whole royal family seemed to be having a good time. The more dysfunctional the parade, the more they seemed to like it. Charles was radiant and even Princess Anna, buttoned up, laughed and applauded.
A quick number of Ed Sheeran completed things and then the queen briefly appeared on the balcony of Buck House along with Charles and Camilla and the Cambridge family. He got a quick smile before rushing inside as quickly as possible. Was this the jubilee she had always wanted for herself? No one would ever know. But then he spent his whole life giving away nothing.
But it did seem like the end of an era. That things will have to change when Charles becomes king. That the country’s pact with the queen does not extend to the rest of her family. Again, we could all be back in four years’ time for the Queen’s 100th birthday party. And the following year for the second diamond jubilee.