Roll up, roll up for the televisual equivalent of the fat lady in the circus! It’s a rare opportunity to view the state rooms of Downton Abbey! And it’s a not-so-rare opportunity to see 56 million characters and 187 gazillion different plotlines all in one, jam-packed, chaotic hour. Someone please wake me up when it’s all over.
Only two episodes to go.
Viewers have barely recovered from last week’s zombie bloodbath. But despite the fact that this explosive dinnertime gorefest would have caused shockwaves for years throughout a modern household – let alone a sedate, highly repressed one in the 1920s – it was not even mentioned once.
Instead, we’re headlong back into the meandering, Groundhog Day humbug of yore: Anna’s doomed-or-is-it pregnancy, Mary’s doomed-or-is-it romance with the racing driver and the no-longer-doomed-but-still-we-have-to-hear-about-it sodding bloody hospital.
All this when there were some great ideas here, all of which could have constituted an episode in themselves. Why not do a whole hour on the house being opened to the public and how that affects everyone upstairs and downstairs? The little boy with the Yorkshire accent (good local research, Uncle Julian!) could have carried a whole storyline himself. The intercutting of the hopeless tour guiding of Mary, Edith and Cora was quite good. Couldn’t this have been developed? And why did we see Molesley harrumph and attempt to intervene but then give up? I can only assume we are heading for him being appointed the Head Guide of Downton Abbey in the triumphant final episode. Either that or he’s all set to join Egg-Heads.
As usual, the set-ups are way too long. And they’re usually foiled just as they get interesting, only to pointlessly return all of a sudden. (See also Baxter’s letter from Coyle, the evil man we will never get to see or understand anything about.) Similarly – and do shoot me because, really, I should know better by now (essentially I have been drugged by the soporific effect of repetitious plotlines) – I actually care about Thomas.
I still remember how spectacular Rob James-Collier’s performance was in series one when he was playing against O’Brien (Siobhan Finneran). He has been given virtually nothing to do for the past three years. And now suddenly we get a two-second glimpse of him crying? Two seconds. What a waste of acting ability. Again, the situation with Thomas and Andy and Carson’s mistrust of Thomas is interesting and has great potential. It’s already being thrown away.
Still, I look to the good as this out-of-control charabanc lurches its way around the final lap of the track. I like Carson’s walking stick and hope it will be used to ferret out a light-fingered underclass type. I love Dame Maggie when she is doing apoplectic disgust. And I love it when there is a burst of expositional dialogue followed by someone else basically saying, “Yes, well done for saying that. Let’s cut to another scene.” Baxter: “I’m glad in a way I didn’t have to testify against him.” Cora: “Good night, Baxter.” End of scene. Vintage Downton.
Random subplot alert
There is mileage in the emerging tension in the marriage of Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson. But the handling of it was clumsy last week and didn’t much improve this week. It still feels inconsistent and lacks intent.
“How are you at making coffee? There’s quite an art to it … I wonder if we could have the hall boy to do some polishing.” (Who is the hall boy? I thought they wanted to sack everyone?) Mrs Hughes is on top form when she is being indignant and a bit sarcastic. But would she really put up with Carson being such an arse? Would Carson actually be such an arse?
Surprise character development
“With her magazine, I think she could develop into one of the interesting women of the day.” I don’t think this is the greatest ever summary of Edith’s character but she does seem to be blossoming in this series. Thank God for Coffee-Making Man who has now also revealed himself to be a sort of Human Wikipedia, knowing everything there is to know about running a stately home as a tourist attraction. More “nice and automatic” kissing for Edith, please.
Finally, if I can bear to note something that relates to the tedious hospital … The idea of Cora having any responsibility after having done absolutely nothing for at least 20 years apart from hoarding evening coats and then getting cross when people want to borrow them to get married in for a couple of hours … Well, it is just ridiculous. Cora doesn’t want a job! She just wants to flirt with Richard E Grant occasionally! Pull yourself together, Uncle Julian.
Golden eyebrow of the week award
Minor eyebrow action in this episode, but a host of contenders. Mrs Hughes was an early entry with this line: “We certainly talked about what it’s like to cook dinner for you.” She then almost secured a slam-dunk when quizzing Mrs Patmore about her ill-defined new home: “Your own telephone? You’re blazing a trail now.”
But, as usual, Carson came from behind to secure the title again for this reaction to Lord Grantham’s creepy line about seeing Lady Mary in the bath. The eyebrow said it all: “M’lord, are you really sure that is appropriate?” It really wasn’t.
Sorry, could you just repeat that awkward line of dialogue?
- “So my word is still not good enough after so many years?” Thomas, you are doomed. Go back and see that lovely delusional old buffer who was living like it was the last days of the Raj. Oh, sorry, I’m getting confused with Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.
- “The architect built lots of lovely big buildings.” Genius tour-guiding from Edith. I would pay money to go on this tour.
- “Why don’t you come with me?” “Oh, alright, I’ll go and pack.” They’ll be lots more of this before Branson and Mary finally get it together. As surely they must.
- “They’re bound to ask why have the Crawleys got all of this and I haven’t …” Molesley’s turn to go a bit Jeremy Corbyn.
- “The car is your enemy … But it’s my friend.” Poor Mr Talbot. Maybe the most dud line of the whole series.
Next week
Henry Talbot has invited everyone to the evil car racing! There are many car-related shenanigans. Rosamund feels the sharp end of Robert’s tongue. And Cousin Violet gets grumpy with Lord Merton’s future daughter-in-law. (Please keep up.)
