In its final season, 'The Crown' has lost its essence.

 The deaths of Diana and Dodi on 'The Crown.'

The highly anticipated season of "The Crown" has arrived, and this time, the focus has shifted away from the Queen. The undisputed star of season six, particularly in the first four episodes released this week, is the late Princess Diana, portrayed by Elizabeth Debicki. This installment delves into the weeks leading up to Diana's tragic death in 1997, unraveling the tightly woven fabric of the show as everyone becomes irresistibly entangled in her orbit.

The episodes seamlessly blend together, abandoning the formula of the weekly "monster" storyline, as they all build up to an incessantly foreshadowed climax. This departure from the show's traditional compartmentalized approach serves as a metaphor for history. It is fitting that the season many critics believe to be its downfall also confronts the biggest disaster faced by the institution thus far.\

When "The Crown" first premiered in 2016, one of the aspects that captivated viewers was its cinematic grandeur. The extraordinary budget of the first season was evident in episodes that felt like mini-movies. Episode four, titled "Act of God," depicted the catastrophic London smog of 1952 with a unique aesthetic and character. Similarly, episode eight, "Pride and Joy," showcased Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip's arduous round-the-world trip against the backdrop of Elizabeth's rivalry with her sister Margaret.

However, the boundaries between episodes one and three of season six are blurred. Their themes revolve around the same central figures: Diana, outshining her former in-laws yet again, Prince Charles struggling with jealousy as he seeks public approval for his relationship with Camilla Parker-Bowles, the senior royals resisting modernization, and Mohamed Al-Fayed's attempts to position his son Dodi as the new Mr. Spencer. Images of Diana enjoying herself on Al-Fayed's yacht in a swimsuit, with paparazzi relentlessly pursuing her, could be placed almost anywhere within the storyline. It is deliberate chaos, perhaps, but chaos nonetheless.

The show's affinity for metaphor, always abundant, has now reached its pinnacle. Recall the excruciating second episode of season four, when the royal family subjected young Princess Diana and Margaret Thatcher to their intense scrutiny at Balmoral Castle. Diana's storyline saw her hunting and eventually killing a stag alongside Prince Philip, serving as an allegory for her eventual fate with Charles. Season six thus far is akin to that episode, except it lasts for several hours.

The celebrity paparazzo hired by Al-Fayed to leak news of his son and Diana's new romance provides a jarring contrast to the devoted Scotsman who patiently waits, nibbling on digestive biscuits, to capture staged photographs of the royal family. Diana is portrayed as preternaturally angelic, offering advice to a "lost" Dodi to stand up against his domineering father, while struggling to keep up with her whirlwind of charity commitments. The anticipation surrounding her last phone call with her sons is so heightened that it overshadows the heartbreaking reality: the actual conversation, as both William and Harry have since revealed, was brief and perfunctory. Given the impossibility of portraying this period of history to everyone's satisfaction, season six holds back on certain aspects.

The inclusion of ghostly, posthumous visions of Diana and Dodi has sparked considerable criticism, but it arguably portrays the royal family's reaction to Diana's death in a more favorable light than it could have. The Queen's initial reluctance to publicly display her grief receives only minimal attention before she succumbs to public pressure. However, if people are already going to be offended, why not go all the way?

The show's creator, Peter Morgan, might argue that he has explored this territory before in his 2006 film "The Queen." Nevertheless, considering the previous controversies sparked by the show's depictions of lesser-known or fictional missteps by the royal family (such as Prince Charles advocating for his mother's abdication in season five), it seems peculiar to dedicate so little airtime to an event widely considered a PR disaster.

Instead, in part one of season six, the sacrificial figure is Mohamed Al-Fayed, portrayed by Salim Dau. According to "The Crown," Al-Fayed's relentless campaign to have his son Dodi engaged to Diana and thus secure British citizenship is almost as responsible for their deaths as the tragic car crash itself. Diana's final night in Paris is depicted as the culmination of Al-Fayed's manipulation of their relationship and his pressure on Dodi to propose.

In real life, Mohamed Al-Fayed, who died earlier this year, denied any involvement in the relationship between his son Dodi and Princess Diana. His former spokesman has repeated that denial since the show aired. TV dramas are not obligated to offer a mirror image of history, and artistic license is not just allowable; it is often necessary. However, when a true story is already so well-documented, adding an apparently fictionalized proposal narrative feels like throwing a match on an inferno. In one sense at least, "The Crown"'s handling of Diana's death feels true to life: It was utterly unable to cope.