Royalists worried that the fifth series of The Crown will be unkind to our new king had better brace themselves.

For two series, Josh O’Connor made us pity Prince Charles, even though he was cheating on his 19-year-old new bride Diana and gaslighting her about it. In series five – set throughout the 90s – Charles, now played by Dominic West, loses all that ruddy boyish charm and likeable wretchedness.

Now, creator Peter Morgan has given us a more callous Charles, sick to the back teeth of both Diana (Elizabeth Debicki) and of waiting in the wings to be king. The first episode sees him abandon his wife and the children on a long-awaited holiday to rush back to Camilla (the brilliant Olivia Williams).

Moments later he’s lobbying Prime Minister John Major (Johnny Lee Miller, channelling Spitting Image’s dull John) to help him oust the Queen (Imelda Staunton) – and he does something similar with Tony Blair (Bertie Carvel) in the finale. Calls for that fiction disclaimer will surely gain traction after that.

Luckily, West actually doesn’t do a particularly good Charles impression. He’s distinctly less posh than usual and feels like a regurgitation of his character from The Affair: a self-pitying cheater who thinks his jokes are more charming than they are.

If 1992 was an “annus horribilis” for the Queen (three family divorces, the fire at Windsor Castle) The Crown series five is a series horriblis for Charles, an uncomfortable greatest hits of all his most humiliating moments, from the public spats with Diana to the published “tampongate” phone conversations with Camilla. The latter, though, does feature some terrific tough love from his sister Anne (Claudia Harrison).

“A bit gynaecological for my tastes,” she says with a grin.

Diana isn’t exactly likeable either. Debicki has her with a permanent pout and self-conscious head tilt, telling anyone who will listen (including, of course, Panorama‘s Martin Bashir, played by Prasanna Puwanarajah) just how miserable she is. At one point, a young Prince William (Senan West, Dominic’s real life son), just recently off to Eton, has to ask her to stop telling him about her love life. “It’s embarrassing,” he pleas.

Debicki’s low voice and mannerisms are perfect, as are the costumes, including the “revenge dress”. Though I could have done with a few more scenes showing just why she became a global superstar; we rarely see her charming the masses up close with that famous warmth. We are given a brief glimpse of her during one brief scene of her laughing with sick children in hospital. “Ah yes, there she is,” I thought.

Imelda Staunton is terrific as the latest incarnation of our late sovereign, a little more tight-lipped and staunch than her predecessor Olivia Colman. Perhaps because she takes a back seat.

While this series’s primary narrative focus is Charles and Diana’s divorce, it is at its best when it is away from them. Its quieter episodes savour the juicier themes of previous series: how does the Firm cope when it is forced to be restrained, steadfast, uncomplaining?

Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip (Jonathan Pryce) celebrate a wedding anniversary but wonder how much they really have in common anymore.

Princess Margaret (Lesley Manville, wonderful and the only actor still deeply committed to pronouncing words like hat as “het”) meets the man she nearly married and rages at her sister for ruining it all, just as Anne is allowed to do the very thing she wasn’t: marry a divorcé. Times have changed, the Queen observes sagely, but that’s no good to poor old Margaret.

Changing times is paramount throughout the 10 episodes. Charles wants a slimmed down, less expensive monarchy while his parents try to prevent the decommissioning of the knackered Royal Yacht Britannia; New Labour is coming; the young BBC director general understands the need to compete with the new satellite channels while the fusty old chairman bangs on about standards (“Limitless choice? 1000 channels all offering rubbish?” he thunders. Nice of Netflix to let that line stand).

And money, not history, is beginning to talk. We meet Mohammed Fayed (Salim Daw), a young Egyptian drinks seller with an obsession with British royalty. Before long he’s adding a fancy “Al” prefix to his surname and buying Harrods. As the Britannia sails her last voyage, Fayed has a huge yacht in perfect working order, on to which he invites Diana. “It’ll be vulgar but you’ll love it,” he cackles. And of course, he has a son, Dodi (Khalid Abdalla).

It’s beautifully set up for the next and final series. Perhaps inevitably, as we move closer to the present day, there are moments that feel a little TV movie-of-the-week.

The mimicry can be grating when you’re more familiar with the real thing. The pace and the cast aren’t quite as finely tuned as the previous series either, though the good moments are still really, really good. I particularly enjoyed a fantasy reprieve between Diana and Charles, that had them making omelettes turned scrambled eggs together. If only.

Nevertheless The Crown, still captures something fundamental and immensely watchable about the Royal Family – their constant tussle between duty and individual happiness. The clash between the past and the present too is ever more striking.

“It shouldn’t come as a surprise she’s falling apart,” Prince Philip declares. “She’s a creature of another age.” He’s talking about the yacht, but still.

The Crown series 5 streams on Netflix from 9 November