SPOILER ALERT: This blog is for people watching Downton Abbey series six. Don’t read on if you haven’t seen series six, episode eight.
Read Viv Groskop’s episode seven blog here.
“What a day. I ruin Lady Edith’s life. And Barrow tries to take his.” The Tale of Mary! A special feature-length episode! Rich characterisation with a sprinkling of humour! Much excellent drama! Finally – finally – an outing that brought back the feel of the best of Downton. I don’t know. You wait six years for a decent episode to come along. And suddenly … suddenly ... there actually is, er, one. Just the one, mind.
There was a film-like quality here to remind us that Uncle Julian won an Oscar for the screenplay for Gosford Park: longer scenes, intense emotions, proper quality (that is the technical term). I take back everything I have said over the past six years. (I don’t really.) This was flawless. (Almost.) There were copious tears in the Groskop household.
Some of the best scenes Downton has ever provided were in this episode. The scene at the breakfast table! Oh my days. “I admire you, Bertie, not everyone would accept Edith’s past ...” I actually screamed. This was brilliantly done. We’ve been building up to the “bitch” showdown between Mary and Edith for six series and it didn’t disappoint. “I know you to be a nasty, jealous, scheming bitch ... Don’t demean yourself by trying to justify your venom.”
Likewise the scene ahead of the wedding where they made up (to some extent): “Because you’re my sister and one day only we will remember Sybil.” Kudos to Laura Carmichael (Edith) and Michelle Dockery (Mary): they both carried this episode and did a superb job. My only quibble? In real life Edith would have gone nuclear. Maybe she’s saving it up for Christmas.
You would have to have Lady Mary’s heart of ice (and even that melted tonight) to not be carried away by the warmth and precision of the acting here. Dame Maggie saying “I believe in love” destroyed me. As did Mrs Patmore’s weeping at the mention of her loyalty. And Mr Molesley doing his “Captain, my Captain” scene. Why was all this so much better than Downton usually is? Because it was longer and the scenes had room to breathe and we weren’t cutting between a series of melodramatic subplots that threatened to overshadow everything only to die away to nothing.
However, this is still Downton and there were still some weird tics. Barrow’s suicide has been foreshadowed (and predicted below the line here) for some time. But was it underplayed? (Although I loved Master George with his orange. Mini Matthew!) This decision doesn’t fit with the person Barrow was in series one and two, even if Uncle Julian did try to shoehorn in a character parallel between him and Mary. We love vengeful, scheming Barrow. Where did he go? Plus, something was confusing here. If the house is in such dire straits, how come we saw two new servants tonight we have never seen before?
Overall, though, for anyone who has been watching Downton for the past few episodes – let alone the past six series – this was like another phenomenon entirely: a period drama that actually lives and breathes and makes sense and moves you. It was an unheard-of thing: an explosively exciting one-night-stand at the end of a long, dysfunctional and deeply unsatisfying marriage.
Random subplot alert
As mentioned, Downton is Downton and even in one of the best episodes (possibly the best?) of the entire shebang, there have to be crazy sub-narratives. Mrs Patmore’s house was a story for five minutes until they settled out of court. Let’s see if that newspaper photograph comes back to haunt them all in the Christmas outing. On the plus side, this storyline allowed for the return of the perpetually returning police sergeant. It’s always good to see him. He barely gets out of the front gate and he has to come back again.
Weirdest subplot of the whole of Downton? Spratt as Cassandra, the magazine agony aunt. Of course we knew it was going to be a man. (I thought it might have been Coffee Man AKA Bertie.) But Spratt? It really was bananas.
Surprise character development
I loved Cousin Isobel’s scene with the evil, conniving bride-to-be who is trying to set Isobel up as a geriatric nursemaid instead of carting Lord Merton off to Dignitas. The usual Downton Groundhog Day effect was in evidence here. We already had this scene last week but with Cousin Violet. But it was a good scene. So why not repeat it, Uncle Julian must have thought. As he seems to have thought many, many times about things over the past six years.
This left a nice set-up. Cousin Isobel is still – just about – a candidate for marriage at Christmas. So is Edith, if Mary can get it together to talk Coffee Man round about The Imposter Child. (And if Coffee Man doesn’t die in an airplane, which was also foreshadowed. Stay safe, Coffee Man! Don’t die!) So is Mrs Patmore, who surely must marry Mr Mason. And Baxter, who surely must marry Molesley. That’s two double weddings. Get to it, Uncle!
Golden eyebrow of the week
Mr Carson has so dominated the eyebrow charts this series that it’s also as if his eyebrows have become an actor in their own right. He wins not only the golden eyebrow of the week but the golden tweezer of the series. Some true Carson classics tonight. “Better give it a moment, Mr Molesley.” “I’ve always known people were ruthless but I didn’t think I’d find the proof in my own wife.” And his expression when Mrs Hughes said to him: “Yes, but you’re my curmudgeon ...”? Priceless.
Carson also wins the Golden Hand Mirror for Lifetime Contribution to Eyebrow Acting (this is higher than the golden tweezers) because he has won the golden tweezers two series, more than any other contestant, sorry, actor. He was the winner in Series Three and now in Series Six. Lady Mary won Series Five and Cousin Isobel won Series Four. (It didn’t exist before then. How did we live?)
Sorry, could you just repeat that awkward line of dialogue?
- “I can’t be a crash widow again.” Don’t cry, Mary! Actually, you should cry, because you have been utterly, utterly frightful to Edith.
- “Let’s get married on Saturday! I have a licence! My uncle is a bishop!” I paraphrase slightly. Not sure this entirely made sense but, like so much, it was necessary for the plot.
- “With my luck, I’ll regret it either way.” Oh, Lady Edith, it’s so true. You do have such awfully bad luck. But I sense some good fortune coming your way at Yuletide.
- “It was half past five and the man was in North Yorkshire. What did you expect him to do, pitch a tent under a tree?” One of the longest lines Cora has ever had and she did a great job with it.
- “Bananas.” No words.
Next week
There is no next week! I will be raising a glass of sherry to the blank television screen as I take a much-needed break in a sanitorium.
