This episode really deserved a second viewing for me to properly catch every detail and nuance, but time didn't permit that luxury. So I give you what I caught the first time around.
To begin with, I feel that this season is well on it's way to becoming the best since Seasons 1 and 2, which I love equally but for different reasons. Each plot line has slowly come into it's own and all of the numerous stories are now brought to the peak, ready to plunge over the edge and into whatever messy consequences might lay below. This manner of subtle, measured story-telling, drawing us along and into the various plots is reminiscent of Season 2, when the to and fro of Mary and Matthew's war time courtship had our hearts falling and rising like the tide. The opulence of the costumes and settings brings us back to the glory of prewar Downton in Season 1, when the gorgeous outfits vied for our attention along with the witty scripting. In Season 5 Downton has found herself again, and we can all settle back and enjoy the feeling of coming home. That is until we jump to the edge of our seats again and nervously nibble a scone while we wonder what in the world Thomas is doing in the bathroom. (I have my ideas but will reserve my comments until more details have been revealed)
Mary was quite busy this episode, walking the estate with Lord Grantham and Tom, scurrying up to London for a dress show with Aunt Rosamund, dining unexpectedly with Pigman Blake, and, oh yes, attempting to dump Tony. How well that went for her. When Mary broke things off with Matthew at the end of Season 1, he was angry, but he respected her decision and gave her time and space (joining the army and going to France helped with that). In contrast, Tony became instantly aggressive and possessive, forcefully telling her that this was just something that they would get through together, then impatiently indicating that she was to join him in leaving the garden. Poor Tony thinks that he is the one holding the leash in that relationship. I wonder how long before she puts him down for good. Incidentally, did you notice that when Tony wears a hat and conceals all that gorgeous curly black hair that he is instantly less attractive? No wonder we've mostly seen him with a bare head up to this point. Watch for hats now. A lot of hats.
Blake is slowly worming his way back into Mary's life, bringing with him the unexpected and unpleasant Mabel Lane-Fox, ex-fiance of the lovely Evelyn Napier. Mary was surprised to discover how earthy Miss Lane-Fox really was, as was I. She was over-dressed and under-mannered, and it was easy to see that Mary (rightly) perceived her to be beneath her. And, really, beneath Evelyn. Whatever did he see in her? Or in Mary, for that matter??
As for Blake, he is shrewd. And snake-ish. He's a good match for Mary as a business partner, but not necessarily as a spouse. I think he will continue to come around, and if all goes well, we might even see a very middle class fist-fight between he and Tony. My money would be on Blake. After all, he saved the pigs.
I was amused that Edith's gloomy face was remarked on not once but twice during the course of the show. Show me an evening that Edith hasn't been glum!! I think there might have been five in the course of the entire show when she was not discontent, disgruntled, peevish, or jealous. The evenings with Stralin don't really count because she constantly wore a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look around him. However, Edith really does have a reason to be unhappy, even if it is mostly her fault. The forced separation from Marigold is going to drive Edith to an unwise and rash course of action very soon, and will most likely lead to the entire story coming out and a third (however unlikely) addition to Downton's nursery.
Granny was completely out of her element during this episode. For one thing, Granny does not go to speak to someone, she has them brought to her. She does not walk along a busy public street, she is driven along it to the doorstep of her destination. But in this episode Granny took it upon herself to visit Prince Kuragin in the dark and damp church basement, which led to one of the most awkward and sad dialogues this season has yet offered. The entire situation was so bizarre and out of character for the Grand Lady that I felt like I was watching it sideways. The conversation itself was stilted, but the sadness was palpable. The poor man misses his wife, and the woman he formerly loved is touched enough by his grief that she decides to locate the poor woman. We've seen this type of kindness in Granny before, such as when she awarded the prize to Mr. Molesly Sr for the most beautiful bloom in the village, and when she attempted to protect William from conscription into the army. But to bring herself so literally into contact with something that she would normally consider beneath her notice shows a certain tenderness, as well as the effect that Isobel has had on her over the years of their acquaintance. And I am sure that Isobel is indeed very proud of her cousin and friend.
The disproportionate triangle made up of Robert, Cora, and Bricker continues to shift shape, with the angles between the various parties widening and narrowing in proportion to their interest in each other. Cora conceals her aggravation with Robert less and less, and Bricker has basically declared himself to be in pursuit of Cora, whatever that would mean. Robert knows what's going on, but not really, because he refuses to see the merits and value of his own wife. To him she is just another part of the estate that is to be managed and maintained. I think he feels more real affection for Isis. Bricker knows that now, but not initially. What made him think that he could pay such attention to Cora, and be so successful? He had no specific knowledge of Robert and Cora's marriage and their level of commitment to or happiness with each other. But from the moment Bricker met Cora he has grown increasingly bold in his verbal appreciation of her beauty and intellect. And even though she continues to receive his compliments with wide and innocent-seeming eyes, Cora is no fool. How long will she let this go on? How long will Robert? Or, perhaps Granny? Someone is going to finally wake up to the inappropriateness of this man and his intentions toward Cora and put an end to it. I hope.
As for Robert and Ms. Bunting, I am starting to believe that they are two sides of the same coin, only he has better manners. She was very possibly raised in a barn. To continue to goad a man in his own house while eating his food at his dinner table is quite beyond the realm of rudeness. She might as well spit in his face and be done with it. I can't imagine why she told Tom that she was flattered to be asked back. She obviously considers everyone there to be priggish and proud, an unnecessary part of society. Her disdain for the family that accepted Tom and has continued to love him and provide a place for he and his daughter should make him question what it is that actually attracts him to her. Yes, they share the same political ideals and desires for the betterment of society. But while Tom is capable of holding his own opinion while functioning in a world that he does not completely agree with, Ms. Bunting can't seem to keep that wide mouth shut, forcing her opinions on anyone unlucky enough to step close enough. No wonder Lord Grantham shouted at her and threw his napkin on the table and stormed out of the dining room. I can't imagine that anyone will be stupid enough to invite her back after that. So now Tom can and must choose.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I do not care for Lord Merton. At all. Not any. But after his boy-ish awkwardness and sweet, genuine appeal to Isobel for her hand in marriage, I can't help but feel a certain fondness for him. I should have known it would come to this, as soon as I saw that he lived in a pretty house. So far this season has caused me to dislike Tony, cheer for Blake, take an interest in Edith, and grow a soft spot for Lord Merton. All of this I can do without a grudge. But if they attempt to make me feel any sort of sympathy or liking for Ms. Bunting, I think I'll throw up and then go back to rooting for all my old favorites.
Speaking of old favorites, the only major story line that has failed to gain any traction with me is the growing unrest regarding the death/murder of Mr. Green. Anna certainly didn't help Mr. Bates' case by scouting along Piccadilly while in London. I was happy to see Anna and Mr. Bates smiling at each other again, but it's probably just the calm before another storm breaks over their heads. After enduring that for a couple of seasons already, I just can't find it in me to care much. Perhaps if I could see more of Bates going about his day, in his normal life, and not only in relation to the impending doom. But no, all my sympathy lies with Anna, what little bit of it there is to be had.
I was so glad to see a re-emergence of the tyrannical Mrs. Patmore. Even though she is an unschooled cook, she has a way with words. Her verbal bludgeoning of Daisy was classic Season 1 material, but her surgical shredding of Carson while in conversation with Lord Grantham was absolute brilliance. Unable to defend himself, Carson's eyebrows got a good workout. They needed it, since there haven't been any Americans underfoot to cause him all sorts of indignation and consternation. Three cheers for Mrs. Patmore and Carson's ever-agile eyebrows.
Next week's episode should be pretty fantastic.
Happy viewing!
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Downton Abbey S:5, E:3 It's the Little Things
I feel that the major story lines of the show are progressing obtusely. It is obvious that Mary isn't going to marry Tony, that Edith will not be content being shut out of Marigold's life, and that the Robert-Cora-Bricker triangle is going to get nasty. Below stairs, Bates will soon be called in for questioning if not in fact arrested, the item that Anna hid for Mary will be found and perhaps erroneously linked to the incident with Mr. Green, Daisy's place in the kitchen/show is coming into question, and finally, that the show desperately needs Thomas. This episode, in which he was largely absent, was a little bit lackluster.
Because of the steady progression of the above mentioned plots, I want to focus on some of the small details I noticed this week. Certainly not in a nod to Cora's apparent instinct for the finer points of art (and complete lack of it when it comes to men), but rather because I enjoyed these deeper glimpses into the show and the characters.
Did you notice the color of the tea Mr. Carson was drinking when Thomas asked to use the telephone? It was a creamy light brown. Carson takes milk! The tireless butler not only takes tea, he allows himself the luxury of milk in it. A small concession from a man who can be both deferential and intractable at the same time.
Edith looked so lovely during this episode, particularly in the plum evening dress she wore when playing cards with Rose. I also liked the head scarves she wore in several scenes. The print of the one she wore to care for Marigold was lively and fun. Edith is happy, and it shows. Well, she was happy. Now she's about to become a mother who is desperate to see her child and who will most likely stop at nothing to accomplish that goal. What will it be? Revelation of the truth? Forced adoption out of the Drew home? Kidnapping?
There is a much smaller number of servants dining in the servants hall. The producers were clever to remember this detail. Mrs. Hughes and others have commented about the dwindling servant class. Here that truth is subtly illustrated. I'd like to see a few of the machines/appliances that enable this reduced number to keep Downton up to Mr. Carson's standards.
When Bates and Anna were conversing in the hall below stairs, then Bates left to get a spot out of Lord Grantham's set of tails, did you see how well he walked away? There was barely a limp there. The cane was firmly in hand, but the disability was almost non-existent. Oops.
The walled garden that Mrs. Drew ran through in her frantic search for Marigold was intriguing, even in winter. I hope we see it again in the spring and summer months when it is in full leaf. But that would only be appropriate if Marigold's future is firmly and happily settled. As it stands, the barren garden is a perfect way to show the fear of loss that both Edith and Mrs. Drew are experiencing.
Whenever we see Granny and Isobel taking a walk together, it is always on the path through the gravestones. All roads through the village must lead through the graveyard of the church. Perhaps they happen to meet there when they visit the graves of their loved ones. Or this is foreshadowing (Please no. A dead Granny is a doomed Downton). No matter what it is, it's a bit macabre. Can't they walk in a garden somewhere?
Here's hoping for a firecracker episode next week, with plenty of nasty Thomas and explosive plot lines.
Happy viewing!
Because of the steady progression of the above mentioned plots, I want to focus on some of the small details I noticed this week. Certainly not in a nod to Cora's apparent instinct for the finer points of art (and complete lack of it when it comes to men), but rather because I enjoyed these deeper glimpses into the show and the characters.
Did you notice the color of the tea Mr. Carson was drinking when Thomas asked to use the telephone? It was a creamy light brown. Carson takes milk! The tireless butler not only takes tea, he allows himself the luxury of milk in it. A small concession from a man who can be both deferential and intractable at the same time.
Edith looked so lovely during this episode, particularly in the plum evening dress she wore when playing cards with Rose. I also liked the head scarves she wore in several scenes. The print of the one she wore to care for Marigold was lively and fun. Edith is happy, and it shows. Well, she was happy. Now she's about to become a mother who is desperate to see her child and who will most likely stop at nothing to accomplish that goal. What will it be? Revelation of the truth? Forced adoption out of the Drew home? Kidnapping?
There is a much smaller number of servants dining in the servants hall. The producers were clever to remember this detail. Mrs. Hughes and others have commented about the dwindling servant class. Here that truth is subtly illustrated. I'd like to see a few of the machines/appliances that enable this reduced number to keep Downton up to Mr. Carson's standards.
When Bates and Anna were conversing in the hall below stairs, then Bates left to get a spot out of Lord Grantham's set of tails, did you see how well he walked away? There was barely a limp there. The cane was firmly in hand, but the disability was almost non-existent. Oops.
The walled garden that Mrs. Drew ran through in her frantic search for Marigold was intriguing, even in winter. I hope we see it again in the spring and summer months when it is in full leaf. But that would only be appropriate if Marigold's future is firmly and happily settled. As it stands, the barren garden is a perfect way to show the fear of loss that both Edith and Mrs. Drew are experiencing.
Whenever we see Granny and Isobel taking a walk together, it is always on the path through the gravestones. All roads through the village must lead through the graveyard of the church. Perhaps they happen to meet there when they visit the graves of their loved ones. Or this is foreshadowing (Please no. A dead Granny is a doomed Downton). No matter what it is, it's a bit macabre. Can't they walk in a garden somewhere?
Here's hoping for a firecracker episode next week, with plenty of nasty Thomas and explosive plot lines.
Happy viewing!
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Inadequate Words
This post is mostly for my dad. It's about his mom, a woman that many people called Mee-Mee.
I think about Mee-Mee a lot. Every day. I can't help it. When my son gets really tickled about something, he laughs just like her. And I've always seen Mee-Mee in my daughter's brow bone, that defined ledge over deep set eyes. Just like Mee-Mee. The similarity is unmistakable. My son might be almost a carbon copy of his dad, but his laugh descended from his maternal great-grandmother.
Mee-Mee passed away when I was pregnant with my son, about four months before he was born. Her reaction to finding out that I was having a boy was one of my favorites. "Oh! Another preacher!" she said happily. The most important thing on earth to her was that her children and her grandchildren and great-grandchildren would love God and serve Him. She already had a family bursting with men who taught Bible class, led singing during worship, and even preached, so one more to add to that number was a boon to her joy. That she had such an uplifting and optimistic reaction was a boon to mine, since finding out the gender had left me wondering, "What on earth do I do with a boy??" Wise as she was, she already knew. You teach him about God, and then let him tell other people. Simple as that.
Mee-Mee was so wise in so many ways. I've come to realize that only in the last few years, enough to mourn that I didn't spend more time intentionally learning from her. Just being around her was an education in itself. She taught good hygiene (ALWAYS wash your hands before doing ANYTHING in the kitchen). She modeled good posture for me, even with her own stooped back. She encouraged getting an education, telling me over and over "Anything you learn belongs to you." She didn't have the opportunity for much formal schooling, but she was educated in the things that mattered most in life. I could kick myself for not taking more advantage of that priceless resource. But she did what she could to impress on me all sorts of lessons related to house-wifery, mothering, godliness, life in general. And some of it stuck. In fact, I never feel closer to her than when I am cleaning my house. Sweeping my kitchen floor is a way for me to reconnect with her memory, to feel the love I still have for her a little bit more.
I wish, so badly wish, that she could meet my kids. That they could meet her. That my grandmother and my son could share a laugh, and the laughter would be the same sound coming from two bodies and two hearts. That she could look into my daughter's eyes and see something of her own. Sometimes I forget that I can't call Mee-Mee and tell her about what the kids are up to these days, and hear the pride and joy behind the instruction that she would give me.
These words are so inadequate, trying to summarize the beauty of her person and character. Little things like how impeccably dressed my grandfather was every time they went to church. Each item of clothing was clean, pressed, and in place, with a gold tie tack holding it all together.She turned a pressed dress shirt into something holy, an offering to God right alongside her clean hands and pure heart. She always said "Thank you" or "I love you" or "I'm sorry for your loss" with the best chocolate cake I've ever eaten. Mee-Mee's cake carrier had more miles on it than most people's cars. If it was joy you were experiencing, that cake was a song. If sorrow, a prayer mingled with her own for comfort, strength, and peace. She ministered in practical ways to anyone within her reach. It's no wonder that the book of James was one of her favorites in the Bible.
These words aren't enough. They will never be enough. I will continue to miss her, to wish she was on the other end of a telephone conversation, cheering me on in her own way, giving me plenty of advice and instruction. I'm thankful for that. Thankful that I knew her and loved her long enough to miss her this much. To look forward to being with her again. She's got a head start on me in the spiritual realms. I'm sure I will have a thing or two to learn from her when I make it there myself.
-Ashley
I think about Mee-Mee a lot. Every day. I can't help it. When my son gets really tickled about something, he laughs just like her. And I've always seen Mee-Mee in my daughter's brow bone, that defined ledge over deep set eyes. Just like Mee-Mee. The similarity is unmistakable. My son might be almost a carbon copy of his dad, but his laugh descended from his maternal great-grandmother.
Mee-Mee passed away when I was pregnant with my son, about four months before he was born. Her reaction to finding out that I was having a boy was one of my favorites. "Oh! Another preacher!" she said happily. The most important thing on earth to her was that her children and her grandchildren and great-grandchildren would love God and serve Him. She already had a family bursting with men who taught Bible class, led singing during worship, and even preached, so one more to add to that number was a boon to her joy. That she had such an uplifting and optimistic reaction was a boon to mine, since finding out the gender had left me wondering, "What on earth do I do with a boy??" Wise as she was, she already knew. You teach him about God, and then let him tell other people. Simple as that.
Mee-Mee was so wise in so many ways. I've come to realize that only in the last few years, enough to mourn that I didn't spend more time intentionally learning from her. Just being around her was an education in itself. She taught good hygiene (ALWAYS wash your hands before doing ANYTHING in the kitchen). She modeled good posture for me, even with her own stooped back. She encouraged getting an education, telling me over and over "Anything you learn belongs to you." She didn't have the opportunity for much formal schooling, but she was educated in the things that mattered most in life. I could kick myself for not taking more advantage of that priceless resource. But she did what she could to impress on me all sorts of lessons related to house-wifery, mothering, godliness, life in general. And some of it stuck. In fact, I never feel closer to her than when I am cleaning my house. Sweeping my kitchen floor is a way for me to reconnect with her memory, to feel the love I still have for her a little bit more.
I wish, so badly wish, that she could meet my kids. That they could meet her. That my grandmother and my son could share a laugh, and the laughter would be the same sound coming from two bodies and two hearts. That she could look into my daughter's eyes and see something of her own. Sometimes I forget that I can't call Mee-Mee and tell her about what the kids are up to these days, and hear the pride and joy behind the instruction that she would give me.
These words are so inadequate, trying to summarize the beauty of her person and character. Little things like how impeccably dressed my grandfather was every time they went to church. Each item of clothing was clean, pressed, and in place, with a gold tie tack holding it all together.She turned a pressed dress shirt into something holy, an offering to God right alongside her clean hands and pure heart. She always said "Thank you" or "I love you" or "I'm sorry for your loss" with the best chocolate cake I've ever eaten. Mee-Mee's cake carrier had more miles on it than most people's cars. If it was joy you were experiencing, that cake was a song. If sorrow, a prayer mingled with her own for comfort, strength, and peace. She ministered in practical ways to anyone within her reach. It's no wonder that the book of James was one of her favorites in the Bible.
These words aren't enough. They will never be enough. I will continue to miss her, to wish she was on the other end of a telephone conversation, cheering me on in her own way, giving me plenty of advice and instruction. I'm thankful for that. Thankful that I knew her and loved her long enough to miss her this much. To look forward to being with her again. She's got a head start on me in the spiritual realms. I'm sure I will have a thing or two to learn from her when I make it there myself.
-Ashley
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Season Five, Episode 2 "Mary, Did you Know?"
Another good episode! I feel like we are solidly back in the territory of what Downton can and should be. The characters are acting like themselves, the plot lines are weaving in and out of one another at just the right rate to keep us interested/in suspense (the picture in Edith's bed!), and the dialogue is stepping back up to par. Thank goodness! We've got her back! Our dear Abbey has found herself again!
I have a lot to say about this episode, so before I forget I want to comment on three costumes: Mary's back necklace worn at dinner with Charles and the art historian, Rose's gold beaded evening gown, and Edith's peach colored blouse.
Mary's necklace perfectly suited her slender ivory neck in the front and her bony back. Her dress was dark and understated, so the placement of a bauble between her shoulder blades was unexpected and in keeping with her up-to-the-moment fashion sense. We can always expect Mary to be dressed impeccably. If she ever made a misstep and wore an ugly dress, she would probably still look beautiful.
Rose's gold dress was so pretty on her. She's growing up in more ways than one, and the slightly more covered styling of her evening wear is good evidence of that. It will be a long time before the word "settled" can be applied to Rose, but she is, I think, maturing from a girl who rebels just because she can into a young woman deciding how she views the world and her own definitions of right and wrong.
Edith's peachy tent of a blouse was a disaster. The color was flattering to her warmer, creamier skin tone, but it had no shape and did nothing for her. I believe she looked quite smart when she wore trousers in Season 2 to drive the tractor on the Drake farm. Why not pull those out again? It's got to be easier to bike down the lane to see Marigold wearing those instead of a skirt, anyway. Edith's form is womanly but her manner is not overtly feminine. Even if she isn't ready to shock the public by dressing in menswear, I believe she should tailor the lines of her dresses and skirts in ways that would perhaps evoke a bit of naval or military styling. She looks well in structured pieces. Edith's wardrobe has had some high points. Perhaps as she settles into her role as Marigold's godmother we will see it reflected in the way she attires herself.
About Marigold, or rather her mothers. Yes, all three of them. First, Edith, second, the adoptive mother in Switzerland, and finally, Mrs. Drew. All of these women love Marigold, and yet none of them are able to have her fully as their own. I am not sure which one to feel most sorry for. And Marigold is only being set up to be confused. She is obviously attached to Mrs. Drew, but when a wealthy benefactress with true feelings for her steps into her life, will she not struggle to maintain her loyalties to her (second) adoptive family? I really don't know. It seems that by trying to help Edith, Mr. Drew only made the situation murkier and more convoluted than it already was. He certainly isn't doing himself any favors with his wife. Bravo to her for not exploding all over him yet as he quite obviously steam rolls her in favor of Lady Edith. It's too early in the season for surrogate god-mothering to be the end of it all. I think the truth will come out. Leave it to Granny to figure it out first and confront Edith. She already knows the child exists. It will be nothing for her to put two and two together.
I can hardly believe I am about to type this, but the star of this episode for me was...Thomas. Of all people. His sorrow over James' departure was genuine, touching, and yes, slightly uncomfortable to watch. But for a moment we didn't see Thomas as the sinister sneaking, thieving, scheming bully that he usually is. We saw him as a lonely man losing his friend, the one person he has been able to connect with. I hardly think we can call his relationship with O'Brien friendship. However unlikely it was that Thomas and James could be friends, they were. And now Thomas is truly alone. Even though he's done nothing to prevent that, I still feel sorry for him, and absolutely relish the stellar job he did of portraying this rarely-glimpsed side of his character. This is a Thomas I could watch for many more seasons.
Hooray! James is gone! I've been tired of his pretty face and whiny attitude for quite a while. Can't we get someone with real character to take his place? Someone like William? Alas, William was probably one in a million. Sad for Daisy. Sad for Downton. Sad for us.
Baxter and Molesley are becoming quite an adorable couple to watch. To see him stand straighter and truer as he defends her against Thomas is very sweet, and her grateful, steady friendship is so kind to a man that everyone is nice to but doesn't necessarily like. However, I do wish she would stop looking worried ALL the time. Yes, you're a convicted thief. Yes, you had to confess to your current employer. Yes, your job is on the line. But you've a good friend like Molesly backing you up. Smile every once in a while! I believe if Baxter were happy, her countenance would be absolutely beatific.
Even though I disapprove of Mr. Drew's solution to the problem regarding Edith's evident interest in and affection for Marigold, I still felt it was unjust for Robert to speak about it the way he did, both to Edith herself and privately to Cora. Edith is not the daughter who is likely to get bored with charitable, selfless work. After all, she was the daughter that the officers applauded during their convalescence at Downton. They certainly didn't have enough interaction with Mary to know whether or not she was kind. Mary made sure of that. And Sybil was a nurse doing her duty. Edith volunteered her own time to help the men, found pleasure in it, and it showed. Edith is a woman who needs an occupation. When she has one, she thrives! Her father underestimates her rather unfairly, I think. I hope he will see just how wrong he is. (Good grief! Am I actually defending Edith??)
On to Robert. I suppose I will have to give up Robert of Season 1, the self-assured Lord of the Manor, who knew his place in the world and filled that place well. War, loss, and disappointment have all taken their toll on him, and he is the unwitting court jester at times, I'm afraid. But still lovable. To me, always lovable. (Except when he's kissing that irritating maid Jane. Ugh.)
I have a lot to say about this episode, so before I forget I want to comment on three costumes: Mary's back necklace worn at dinner with Charles and the art historian, Rose's gold beaded evening gown, and Edith's peach colored blouse.
Mary's necklace perfectly suited her slender ivory neck in the front and her bony back. Her dress was dark and understated, so the placement of a bauble between her shoulder blades was unexpected and in keeping with her up-to-the-moment fashion sense. We can always expect Mary to be dressed impeccably. If she ever made a misstep and wore an ugly dress, she would probably still look beautiful.
Rose's gold dress was so pretty on her. She's growing up in more ways than one, and the slightly more covered styling of her evening wear is good evidence of that. It will be a long time before the word "settled" can be applied to Rose, but she is, I think, maturing from a girl who rebels just because she can into a young woman deciding how she views the world and her own definitions of right and wrong.
Edith's peachy tent of a blouse was a disaster. The color was flattering to her warmer, creamier skin tone, but it had no shape and did nothing for her. I believe she looked quite smart when she wore trousers in Season 2 to drive the tractor on the Drake farm. Why not pull those out again? It's got to be easier to bike down the lane to see Marigold wearing those instead of a skirt, anyway. Edith's form is womanly but her manner is not overtly feminine. Even if she isn't ready to shock the public by dressing in menswear, I believe she should tailor the lines of her dresses and skirts in ways that would perhaps evoke a bit of naval or military styling. She looks well in structured pieces. Edith's wardrobe has had some high points. Perhaps as she settles into her role as Marigold's godmother we will see it reflected in the way she attires herself.
About Marigold, or rather her mothers. Yes, all three of them. First, Edith, second, the adoptive mother in Switzerland, and finally, Mrs. Drew. All of these women love Marigold, and yet none of them are able to have her fully as their own. I am not sure which one to feel most sorry for. And Marigold is only being set up to be confused. She is obviously attached to Mrs. Drew, but when a wealthy benefactress with true feelings for her steps into her life, will she not struggle to maintain her loyalties to her (second) adoptive family? I really don't know. It seems that by trying to help Edith, Mr. Drew only made the situation murkier and more convoluted than it already was. He certainly isn't doing himself any favors with his wife. Bravo to her for not exploding all over him yet as he quite obviously steam rolls her in favor of Lady Edith. It's too early in the season for surrogate god-mothering to be the end of it all. I think the truth will come out. Leave it to Granny to figure it out first and confront Edith. She already knows the child exists. It will be nothing for her to put two and two together.
I can hardly believe I am about to type this, but the star of this episode for me was...Thomas. Of all people. His sorrow over James' departure was genuine, touching, and yes, slightly uncomfortable to watch. But for a moment we didn't see Thomas as the sinister sneaking, thieving, scheming bully that he usually is. We saw him as a lonely man losing his friend, the one person he has been able to connect with. I hardly think we can call his relationship with O'Brien friendship. However unlikely it was that Thomas and James could be friends, they were. And now Thomas is truly alone. Even though he's done nothing to prevent that, I still feel sorry for him, and absolutely relish the stellar job he did of portraying this rarely-glimpsed side of his character. This is a Thomas I could watch for many more seasons.
Hooray! James is gone! I've been tired of his pretty face and whiny attitude for quite a while. Can't we get someone with real character to take his place? Someone like William? Alas, William was probably one in a million. Sad for Daisy. Sad for Downton. Sad for us.
Baxter and Molesley are becoming quite an adorable couple to watch. To see him stand straighter and truer as he defends her against Thomas is very sweet, and her grateful, steady friendship is so kind to a man that everyone is nice to but doesn't necessarily like. However, I do wish she would stop looking worried ALL the time. Yes, you're a convicted thief. Yes, you had to confess to your current employer. Yes, your job is on the line. But you've a good friend like Molesly backing you up. Smile every once in a while! I believe if Baxter were happy, her countenance would be absolutely beatific.
Even though I disapprove of Mr. Drew's solution to the problem regarding Edith's evident interest in and affection for Marigold, I still felt it was unjust for Robert to speak about it the way he did, both to Edith herself and privately to Cora. Edith is not the daughter who is likely to get bored with charitable, selfless work. After all, she was the daughter that the officers applauded during their convalescence at Downton. They certainly didn't have enough interaction with Mary to know whether or not she was kind. Mary made sure of that. And Sybil was a nurse doing her duty. Edith volunteered her own time to help the men, found pleasure in it, and it showed. Edith is a woman who needs an occupation. When she has one, she thrives! Her father underestimates her rather unfairly, I think. I hope he will see just how wrong he is. (Good grief! Am I actually defending Edith??)
On to Robert. I suppose I will have to give up Robert of Season 1, the self-assured Lord of the Manor, who knew his place in the world and filled that place well. War, loss, and disappointment have all taken their toll on him, and he is the unwitting court jester at times, I'm afraid. But still lovable. To me, always lovable. (Except when he's kissing that irritating maid Jane. Ugh.)
The relationship between Robert and Rose is sweet. It doesn't fill the void left by Sybil, both when she married Tom and then when she died, but I believe that it has a similar feeling for him. They share an affectionate exasperation with each other that I find endearing.
If only Robert could shake himself up a bit and see the people and situations around him for what they really are! For instance, either he completely missed the object of the creepy art historian's attentions, or he actually confused his wife and his dog. His inability to see the wireless as the wonderful innovation that it is was myopic, and his agreement to rent one in order to stand with the King in his hour of need was rather silly. Especially since he wanted to grandstand AFTER the King's address, as if the idea for the wireless, the speech, and the entire monarchy were his own. His conversation with Carson concerning the wireless was about anything but the topic at hand. It was about the war memorial, and whether or not Robert would have his way. In this instance, I'm glad he was right. Not only because his beloved cricket pitch was saved from becoming a little-used garden of remembrance, but because Robert's been drawing the short straw for a long time now. I felt it was time for him to have a victory, no matter how small. (How interesting is it to see the evolution of the relationship between Lord Grantham and Carson? Employer and employee now working side by side on behalf of the village, each with equal say so in the matter. Quite intriguing.)
Bravo Granny for standing as the King began to speak! What a perfect gesture. And I loved her line, "I prefer to think of him (the king) on his throne." She is an aristocrat to the bone.
I dislike Lord Merton for having a pretty house. It should have looked like the House of Usher. And what on earth is Granny up to?
On to Mary and Lord Gillingham. I'm disgusted and disappointed. I was hoping something would happen to prevent the tryst in Liverpoo, but no. Mary, child that she is, will have what she wants, when she wants it, even if it means not only embarrassing her trusted lady's maid (who also happens to be her truest friend), but also breaking all moral and social laws of correct behavior. I don't know if Anna made the purchase for Mary out of duty or friendship. Perhaps Anna doesn't even know. Either way, Mary's taken the plunge and is once again on shaky ground. She has defied the accepted norms of her society and placed herself at the mercy of a man whom she might not even marry. In fact after this episode, I am almost positive that they WON'T marry, thanks to the piercing genius of Charles Blake. Under the guise of wishing her well, and with ill-concealed disappointment over losing her to Tony (or else a severe case of constipation), Charles said the one thing about Tony that Mary will not be able to overlook. Because it is true. Tony is not as smart as Mary is, and she will not be partner to a fool. As much as she loves to be the epitome of beauty, wealth, prestige, and intellect, Mary will not be willing to link herself with a man who will never be able to keep up with her. Part of her love for Matthew was because he challenged her. The one thing I thought Tony possessed that she did not, a kind and caring heart, was possibly just a ruse to get her into his bed. Shame on both of them for being stupid and selfish. And three cheers for Blake and his wicked, ungenerous counsel to Mary. He saved her a worthless marriage. I'm sure he went out to the pigpen after to have a cigarette and gloat.
I applaud the writers of this episode for getting me to do the unthinkable: cheer for everyone I have previously intensely disliked.
I wonder where all of these almost-sweet and heavy-with-meaning exchanges between Carson and Mrs. Hughes will lead. I do believe she blushed, or almost. Could the show withstand an upheaval of that magnitude, if they decided to wed? I just can't see that happening. It would be Matthew's death all over again, or worse.
Bravo Granny for standing as the King began to speak! What a perfect gesture. And I loved her line, "I prefer to think of him (the king) on his throne." She is an aristocrat to the bone.
I dislike Lord Merton for having a pretty house. It should have looked like the House of Usher. And what on earth is Granny up to?
On to Mary and Lord Gillingham. I'm disgusted and disappointed. I was hoping something would happen to prevent the tryst in Liverpoo, but no. Mary, child that she is, will have what she wants, when she wants it, even if it means not only embarrassing her trusted lady's maid (who also happens to be her truest friend), but also breaking all moral and social laws of correct behavior. I don't know if Anna made the purchase for Mary out of duty or friendship. Perhaps Anna doesn't even know. Either way, Mary's taken the plunge and is once again on shaky ground. She has defied the accepted norms of her society and placed herself at the mercy of a man whom she might not even marry. In fact after this episode, I am almost positive that they WON'T marry, thanks to the piercing genius of Charles Blake. Under the guise of wishing her well, and with ill-concealed disappointment over losing her to Tony (or else a severe case of constipation), Charles said the one thing about Tony that Mary will not be able to overlook. Because it is true. Tony is not as smart as Mary is, and she will not be partner to a fool. As much as she loves to be the epitome of beauty, wealth, prestige, and intellect, Mary will not be willing to link herself with a man who will never be able to keep up with her. Part of her love for Matthew was because he challenged her. The one thing I thought Tony possessed that she did not, a kind and caring heart, was possibly just a ruse to get her into his bed. Shame on both of them for being stupid and selfish. And three cheers for Blake and his wicked, ungenerous counsel to Mary. He saved her a worthless marriage. I'm sure he went out to the pigpen after to have a cigarette and gloat.
I applaud the writers of this episode for getting me to do the unthinkable: cheer for everyone I have previously intensely disliked.
I wonder where all of these almost-sweet and heavy-with-meaning exchanges between Carson and Mrs. Hughes will lead. I do believe she blushed, or almost. Could the show withstand an upheaval of that magnitude, if they decided to wed? I just can't see that happening. It would be Matthew's death all over again, or worse.
I'm proud of Mrs. Patmore. She's being so kind to Daisy, paying for her tutelage by Ms. Bunting, even if she thought better of it after the fact. I wonder what will happen now that there will be a liberal both above and below stairs. All of Daisy's starry-eyed hero worship is certainly not as genuine as Tom's core beliefs, but both can and probably will cause quite a lot of trouble.
I'm ready to watch the episode again, just for the sheer joy of it!
I hope you are enjoying Season Five as much as I am. Please share your comments below!
Ashley
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Season 5, Episode One
Downton Abbey fans across the nation rejoice at the season opener for the wildly popular show, now in its fifth season. After the abysmal fourth season, in which the best acting was done by the butler's eyebrows, the beloved Masterpiece Classic comes back with a solid delivery featuring everything that we love best about Downton Abbey, her inhabitants, and their friends. I believe that fans everywhere have breathed a huge sigh of relief that they will not have to struggle through yet another season of forced drama which failed to raise any real emotion or feelings, even for characters that we have loved from the beginning. Writers of Downton, I caution you. You can only throw Bates in prison so many times before even we staunch supporters will begin placing our own advertisments for a new valet to Lord Grantham. But more on Bates in a moment.
The returning cast was more settled in their roles than last year, with a wider light being cast on Baxter, Cora's mild-mannered, mousy, yet sympathy-inducing lady's maid. In a classic twist of Thomas' habitual scheming, the poor woman is forced to reveal her shadowed past to the shocked but pragmatic Cora. With Molesly by her side Baxter weathers the storm and unwittingly endangers Thomas' place at Downton. Luckily for him, Edith (unknowingly) throws a book into her fire and proceeds to set the entire room ablaze. In thanks to Thomas for raising the alarm and rescuing the unconscious Lady Edith, Cora spares his neck yet again. This man has more lives than a cat, but what would Downton really be without everyone's favorite nefarious footman/sergeant/under butler?His natural inclination to drag down those whom he cannot best has moved the plot line forward many times, and is a solid prop to the entire show. While his megalomania could use a bit more explaining, I suppose that being a servant-class gay man in the 1920's is enough to make anyone have a bad day for 12 years running.
The undercurrents of trouble, time, and tide are swirling round Bates and Anna yet again. Everyone knows he killed the evil valet Green, and would be disappointed in him if he didn't. But this brooding, slightly harsh side of Bates that has always simmered beneath his smooth, kind exterior seems to be surfacing with more frequency. The advent of his wife to Downton in Season 2 began to widen his character and give real meat to the man who, formerly, we all loved as blindly as Anna. While we cannot fault the devotion of true love, only she is married to him and not we. How soon will we/must we be forced to reckon with this dark side? Can we continue to stand by the beleaguered valet? The attempt to rain horror down on Anna's head last season was shocking in every sense of the word, but failed to capture the viewers sympathy as solidly as any story line directly involving Bates and his well fare. And so the writers have gone back to what they know and are once again readying Bates for the whipping post. How convincing with this story line be? Will it secure our devotion to Bates, or do irreparable damage to his already sullied character?
Bless him, but Lord Grantham is still lost. He loves the life of privilege, as long as everyone always expects it to be that way. The world has been moving on and changing around him since the war began, and like a child trying to hop aboard a spinning merry-go-round, Robert's knees have the scars to prove that it is no easy feat to keep up. Season 3 promised a partnership of Robert, Matthew, and Tom that would have given Lord Grantham purpose and direction, while gently steering his into modern times, flanked by men who loved him for who he is. The heart-breaking and sudden death of Matthew left Robert reeling until Mary shook herself out of her zombie widowhood and took the reigns of the estate into her own hands. The work being done by Robert, Mary, and Tom is probably still in the vein of Matthew's vision for a more efficient and productive estate, but without his male right-hand to guide him, Robert is left feeling put out by being passed over for such things as a village committee, a posting that in Season 1 would have been a mere nuisance. How little we appreciate the small things, until we feel they are all we have left. In spite of his inability to pull his head out of Edwardian England, I still love Robert and hope for the best for him always.
On a side note: it was hugely unkind for the writers to have Sybil nickname him after a donkey. We all know Robert has been an idiot in the past, and trying to label him as one while passing it off as an affectionate pet name from his largely ignored granddaughter is heavy-handed at the very least.
I found it very appropriate that the opening scene was of a lone figure, Edith, riding through a grey day to visit her secret child on the farm of an estate tenant. Finally, the poor woman has something to be sad about. And how truly sad it is. I look forward to the continuation of that plot line with interest, the first time I have ever felt that way about anything related to Edith. Ever. And bravo to her for throwing the book inscribed with the name of her one-time lover, while holding the picture of her infant daughter. The man was the last in a long string of unavailable, inappropriate, and just plain wrong suitors that Edith threw herself at over the previous seasons, and I hope that she can take a note from Mary's (and previously Sybil's) book and learn to stand on her own two feet.
Ah, Mary. While Matthew was the only one who could ever feel affection for you, I've loved you from the beginning and can't stop now, if for no other reason than that you look divine in anything you wear and have flawless skin and perfect diction. The lovelorn yet ever-hopeful handsome pirate Gillingham is still circling, trying his best to erode her resolve to the point that she will marry him, a purpose he set out for himself early in Season 4. But Mary will not be easily caught, and as the show strives to reflect upon the changing times, it is no surprise that the mild-mannered buccaneer suggested the weekend of trial marriage, nor that Mary took him up on it. Sex has certainly been established as a strong overtone for this season, and is already cheapening the quality of what has been, in previous seasons, brilliant dialogue. Even Violet and Isobel had a mildly suggestive exchange about Isobel's would-be suitor, Lord Merton. Let it be known that I have an inexplicable feeling of disgust when I think of that man. My bet has always been firmly on the kindly but grumpy Dr. Clarkson, and there it shall remain.
More to come after Episode Two!
Season Four, Episode Seven
As the penultimate episode of the fourth season of critically acclaimed and (previously) wildly addictive Downton Abbey, Sunday's offering continued the tradition of the season and perhaps stooped to even new lows of uninteresting, unengaging television drama.
To address the story lines that have been intended as the real shockers this season, all three have attained some appearance of closure. Edith is to holiday in Switzerland with Aunt Rosamund until after the birth of the baby; Jack won't marry Rose after all; and Green is dead.
In a more interesting world, Edith would insist on completing her lying in at home, Jack and Rose would elope to India and arrive on the Flintshire's doorstep as a cuddly new husband and wife, and we would have satisfactory proof that it was, indeed, Bates who offed the offending valet. In that world, there might actually be a bond between one of the Crawley girls and their offspring (leave it to Edith to actually know how to love a child), Rose would finally live up to the promising role of firecracker that was sketched so perfectly for her last season, and Bates and Anna could stop talking to each other like a brother and sister who don't even enjoyeach other's company.
In a more interesting world, Edith would insist on completing her lying in at home, Jack and Rose would elope to India and arrive on the Flintshire's doorstep as a cuddly new husband and wife, and we would have satisfactory proof that it was, indeed, Bates who offed the offending valet. In that world, there might actually be a bond between one of the Crawley girls and their offspring (leave it to Edith to actually know how to love a child), Rose would finally live up to the promising role of firecracker that was sketched so perfectly for her last season, and Bates and Anna could stop talking to each other like a brother and sister who don't even enjoyeach other's company.
At least Tom has found himself someone to talk to. Oh wait, I don't mean Isobel, who has managed to slip him back into his role as chauffeur without seeming to offend anyone (you know Granny thinks it is perfectly natural). No, I'm talking about the red head with the wide mouth and liberal opinions. Tom was all too kind as he repeatedly gently set her back in her place. Because, after all, arranging jars of candy is much more interesting than meeting Lady Grantham.
I must confess that I am more enamored of Gillingham than ever, and I think much of it has to do with his perfect eyelashes. That, and his steady pursuit of Mary that retains a veneer of propriety while obviously hiding rather passionate feelings for her. Of course, Pigman Blake has to do his part to get his name on her dance card by holding poor screaming George and showing up unannounced at the bazaar (a fete that should have been accomplished by a mere wave of the hand by the woman who ably managed her entire house as a convalescent home during the war. Instead, it reduces her to a wafer of a woman who charmingly attempts to foist the brunt of all work onto the shoulders of anyone unlucky enough to be standing within reach. Enter Mary, who handles the entire event with not only poise but willingness, as has always been the case. Or not. This is Mary, who only ever helped one soldier during the entire war, and was too busy being beautiful to be bothered at other times. Who are these people?!?) Gillingham, and his perfect eyelashes, has my vote, especially as he will not be towing the scum of the earth with him every time he invites himself to Downton.
As a last note on the family upstairs, truer words were never spoken than when Lord Grantham publicly toasted Cora and her managerial duties in his absence. Except that he should have been toasting Mary. And Edith shouldn't be drinking at all!
On to the servants.
Who knew that taking a hammer in hand and ringing a bell would shake Molesly out of an entire life of playing the underdog and give him the courage to not only defy the sinister Thomas but offer his arm to Baxter, Thomas' would-be informant? Perhaps being a footman isn't so bad, after all. Tell that to James, whose childish, petulant behavior will have him filling Molesly's vacant shoes quicker than he could ever imagine. If there is a season 5, I hope that James will not be a part of it.
Turning to the love triangle that has been playing out across the work table in the kitchen all season-we finally have a solution. And that is - no one gets Alfred, and everybody's happy about it. Ivy continues to be brainless and naive (but at least she wasn't slicing that eternal loaf of bread on this episode) and Daisy continues to carve her like soft cheese with astringent words, all while preparing a meal for upstairs. It's a wonder that one of the story lines this season hasn't been how the quality of the food was affected by the bitterness of the kitchen staff. Alfred is packed off to London with a basket from Mr. Mason's kitchen (3 cheers for his reappearance!) and presumably all will be quiet on the kitchen front.
Finishing notes:
The clothes this episode were exceeding beautiful, except for the dress Edith wore at dinner the night Rosamund came. It was the color of cat puke and did nothing for her. She was much prettier in that lovely blue she wore to luncheon at Granny's.
How on earth did Mary's godfather forget who Isobel was?! Do you remember his odious son, Larry, who spiked Tom's drink at a family dinner just days before Matthew and Mary's wedding? Apparently, being a peer makes you too well-bred to be a doctor, but offers you instant absolution for complete thoughtlessness when in conversation with a kind, attractive, and grieving widow. Isobel should not have been so pleased by those flowers. Where is Dr. Clarkson when you need him?!
Even with the reappearance of That American Woman (Shirley MacLaine) next week and the introduction of Rose into society, I fear we are in for another wet noodle episode. Oh well. We'll always have season two.
I must confess that I am more enamored of Gillingham than ever, and I think much of it has to do with his perfect eyelashes. That, and his steady pursuit of Mary that retains a veneer of propriety while obviously hiding rather passionate feelings for her. Of course, Pigman Blake has to do his part to get his name on her dance card by holding poor screaming George and showing up unannounced at the bazaar (a fete that should have been accomplished by a mere wave of the hand by the woman who ably managed her entire house as a convalescent home during the war. Instead, it reduces her to a wafer of a woman who charmingly attempts to foist the brunt of all work onto the shoulders of anyone unlucky enough to be standing within reach. Enter Mary, who handles the entire event with not only poise but willingness, as has always been the case. Or not. This is Mary, who only ever helped one soldier during the entire war, and was too busy being beautiful to be bothered at other times. Who are these people?!?) Gillingham, and his perfect eyelashes, has my vote, especially as he will not be towing the scum of the earth with him every time he invites himself to Downton.
As a last note on the family upstairs, truer words were never spoken than when Lord Grantham publicly toasted Cora and her managerial duties in his absence. Except that he should have been toasting Mary. And Edith shouldn't be drinking at all!
On to the servants.
Who knew that taking a hammer in hand and ringing a bell would shake Molesly out of an entire life of playing the underdog and give him the courage to not only defy the sinister Thomas but offer his arm to Baxter, Thomas' would-be informant? Perhaps being a footman isn't so bad, after all. Tell that to James, whose childish, petulant behavior will have him filling Molesly's vacant shoes quicker than he could ever imagine. If there is a season 5, I hope that James will not be a part of it.
Turning to the love triangle that has been playing out across the work table in the kitchen all season-we finally have a solution. And that is - no one gets Alfred, and everybody's happy about it. Ivy continues to be brainless and naive (but at least she wasn't slicing that eternal loaf of bread on this episode) and Daisy continues to carve her like soft cheese with astringent words, all while preparing a meal for upstairs. It's a wonder that one of the story lines this season hasn't been how the quality of the food was affected by the bitterness of the kitchen staff. Alfred is packed off to London with a basket from Mr. Mason's kitchen (3 cheers for his reappearance!) and presumably all will be quiet on the kitchen front.
Finishing notes:
The clothes this episode were exceeding beautiful, except for the dress Edith wore at dinner the night Rosamund came. It was the color of cat puke and did nothing for her. She was much prettier in that lovely blue she wore to luncheon at Granny's.
How on earth did Mary's godfather forget who Isobel was?! Do you remember his odious son, Larry, who spiked Tom's drink at a family dinner just days before Matthew and Mary's wedding? Apparently, being a peer makes you too well-bred to be a doctor, but offers you instant absolution for complete thoughtlessness when in conversation with a kind, attractive, and grieving widow. Isobel should not have been so pleased by those flowers. Where is Dr. Clarkson when you need him?!
Even with the reappearance of That American Woman (Shirley MacLaine) next week and the introduction of Rose into society, I fear we are in for another wet noodle episode. Oh well. We'll always have season two.
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Season 4 Episode 6
First and foremost, I think I was actually bored. With Downton Abbey!! That is borderline blasphemous, except as regards this season. With all the choppy story lines, everything seems anti-climactic. There are plenty of good verbs to be used for this episode: Lord Grantham rushes to America, the Dowager falls ill, Lady Mary works, Edith cries and almost aborts her love child, and Rose continues to be....well....irresponsible and selfish and completely oblivious to the people around her. And yet almost none of that was truly engaging. Of course I did't want the Dowager to die. If she goes, so do I. Nor did I want Edith to have the abortion, though it would not have surprised me had the show gone that way. But Mary saving pigs in her evening clothes? With a man she despises? What?? Who comes up with this stuff?!
On to the murderous glare that Bates levels across the breakfast table at the nefarious valet Mr. Green, when Mrs. Hughes and Anna can't quite pull off nonchalance in his presence. Or anything near it, for that matter. To be honest, it would be rather satisfying to see Bates put the screws on Green for what he did to Anna. Satisfying, and unsurprising. But at the rate this season is going, that story line (which was already horrifying and sickening) will just become some jumbled, unrealistic quagmire of dramatic pauses, dour looks, and melancholic music, with no real satisfaction or justice to be had. If Bates chooses to act, it will not be justice, it will be revenge. Cold, calculated revenge.
It is as though each episode this season is trying to live a lifetime in less than an hour. Where is the glorious, heartbreaking tension of season 2, when almost every encounter between Matthew and Mary was electric, and actually led to character development on her part? This season she is merely the fox picking up the hounds, and by the end of this episode has three on the run. First is Evelyn Napier, who has no real chance because he is so completely bland and absolutely lovely, in his character and qualities, next Tony Gillingham, the ridiculously handsome and kind family friend who just can't stay away, and finally Charles Blake, the priggish and pragmatic outsider. Blake appears at this point to be the most unlikely candidate of the three, but he is the most like Mary in his core character, and he gets her ire up, qualities she finds hard to resist. Evelyn would be a solid decision because of his impeccable integrity and the fact that he lives life at the same level to which Mary is accustomed. Tony would make sense, too, because like Matthew, he lives beneath her, and madly loves her in spite of herself. But it will most likely be Blake who wins the prize, at least in some small way. Mary can't resist a fight, and until this episode he and she could not have a polite conversation (even if it looked like that was what they were doing).
The entirety of the situation in which Mary and Charles Blake saved the pigs was absolutely ridiculous and furthermore incongruous with what we know of Lady Mary. Whether or not she is beginning to emerge as the new, true leader of the estate, and no matter how much she cares about the success of the endeavors to expand their cash flow, we all know that Mary would not take a walk after dinner with a man she despises, only to discover that her pigs are dying from dehydration, and then proceed to save them by toting buckets of water through the mud in her dinner dress. This is Mary, not Sybil. Character development my foot (hers were disgusting, did you notice?). And suddenly Mary can cook an egg? Sybil couldn't even properly turn on the water to fill the kettle the first time she stepped in the kitchen. Writers, please, let's be true to what we know and find another way to spark a friendship that no one really wants to see developing
Edith's situation in this episode, and really the entire season, is quite saddening. She brought it all down on herself, but I can still feel sorry for her. The father of her child is missing, so Edith is left to rely on Aunt Rosamund for strength and friendship. Aunt Rosamund, the foxy know-it-all who has been known to steer her nieces the wrong way before. Thanks to her, Mary and Matthew spent the entire first world war engaged to the wrong people. Ugh.
But back to Edith. Because of the stigma and shame attached to unwed pregnancy in the 1920's, and with the fear of being cast out of her family if the truth became known, Edith resolves to abort the baby. She shares her determination with Rosamund, who lends her support, regardless of how she truly feels. I can't ever feel quite settled with a situation when Rosamund is involved. And so the two women head to the clinic where Edith will terminate her pregnancy. As they wait, Edith watches a young woman crying in another room. We assume this woman has already undergone her procedure, though she might have just been having second thoughts, as Edith quickly begins to do. Either way, the impact of seeing the other woman's unchecked tears is enough to change Edith's mind entirely. Edith and Rosamund leave the clinic, baby still safe. After the nose dive into all things sinister and horrible with Anna's rape earlier in the season, I was relieved to see the sanctity of life upheld in the episode. Perhaps not every single part of this season will be awful, just the majority of it.
On to the murderous glare that Bates levels across the breakfast table at the nefarious valet Mr. Green, when Mrs. Hughes and Anna can't quite pull off nonchalance in his presence. Or anything near it, for that matter. To be honest, it would be rather satisfying to see Bates put the screws on Green for what he did to Anna. Satisfying, and unsurprising. But at the rate this season is going, that story line (which was already horrifying and sickening) will just become some jumbled, unrealistic quagmire of dramatic pauses, dour looks, and melancholic music, with no real satisfaction or justice to be had. If Bates chooses to act, it will not be justice, it will be revenge. Cold, calculated revenge.
It is as though each episode this season is trying to live a lifetime in less than an hour. Where is the glorious, heartbreaking tension of season 2, when almost every encounter between Matthew and Mary was electric, and actually led to character development on her part? This season she is merely the fox picking up the hounds, and by the end of this episode has three on the run. First is Evelyn Napier, who has no real chance because he is so completely bland and absolutely lovely, in his character and qualities, next Tony Gillingham, the ridiculously handsome and kind family friend who just can't stay away, and finally Charles Blake, the priggish and pragmatic outsider. Blake appears at this point to be the most unlikely candidate of the three, but he is the most like Mary in his core character, and he gets her ire up, qualities she finds hard to resist. Evelyn would be a solid decision because of his impeccable integrity and the fact that he lives life at the same level to which Mary is accustomed. Tony would make sense, too, because like Matthew, he lives beneath her, and madly loves her in spite of herself. But it will most likely be Blake who wins the prize, at least in some small way. Mary can't resist a fight, and until this episode he and she could not have a polite conversation (even if it looked like that was what they were doing).
The entirety of the situation in which Mary and Charles Blake saved the pigs was absolutely ridiculous and furthermore incongruous with what we know of Lady Mary. Whether or not she is beginning to emerge as the new, true leader of the estate, and no matter how much she cares about the success of the endeavors to expand their cash flow, we all know that Mary would not take a walk after dinner with a man she despises, only to discover that her pigs are dying from dehydration, and then proceed to save them by toting buckets of water through the mud in her dinner dress. This is Mary, not Sybil. Character development my foot (hers were disgusting, did you notice?). And suddenly Mary can cook an egg? Sybil couldn't even properly turn on the water to fill the kettle the first time she stepped in the kitchen. Writers, please, let's be true to what we know and find another way to spark a friendship that no one really wants to see developing
Edith's situation in this episode, and really the entire season, is quite saddening. She brought it all down on herself, but I can still feel sorry for her. The father of her child is missing, so Edith is left to rely on Aunt Rosamund for strength and friendship. Aunt Rosamund, the foxy know-it-all who has been known to steer her nieces the wrong way before. Thanks to her, Mary and Matthew spent the entire first world war engaged to the wrong people. Ugh.
But back to Edith. Because of the stigma and shame attached to unwed pregnancy in the 1920's, and with the fear of being cast out of her family if the truth became known, Edith resolves to abort the baby. She shares her determination with Rosamund, who lends her support, regardless of how she truly feels. I can't ever feel quite settled with a situation when Rosamund is involved. And so the two women head to the clinic where Edith will terminate her pregnancy. As they wait, Edith watches a young woman crying in another room. We assume this woman has already undergone her procedure, though she might have just been having second thoughts, as Edith quickly begins to do. Either way, the impact of seeing the other woman's unchecked tears is enough to change Edith's mind entirely. Edith and Rosamund leave the clinic, baby still safe. After the nose dive into all things sinister and horrible with Anna's rape earlier in the season, I was relieved to see the sanctity of life upheld in the episode. Perhaps not every single part of this season will be awful, just the majority of it.
Seasons 1-4
While the fifth season is off to a solid start, I think it is a good time to take a look back at where Downton has been in the previous four seasons. Here are what I consider the best and worst moments of each previous season, beginning with Season 4.
Season Four:
The Best: Carson's eyebrows, and his moment with Mrs. Hughes at the seaside.
While the entire season was plagued by flat dialogue and lackluster drama, Mr. Carson's eyebrows never failed to rise to the occasion. In the presence of any American they remained as close to his hairline as possible in permanent indignation, but never more so than when conversing with the cheeky valet of Cora's brother. Carson's eyebrows spoke volumes with better delivery than the rest of the cast combined. Long may they remain as bushy and expressive as they have always been.
The moment at the seaside was everything that I love about Downton distilled into a perfect exchange between two of my most beloved characters. Beyond being a subtle expression of loyalty and affection, it did more to usher in the 1920s than any other previous attempt by the writers. The sight of Carson's bare feet was more scandalous than Lady Mary's Turkish lover, Sybil's elopement with the chauffeur, and Edith's secret child combined. I almost averted my eyes from the sight of such holy podiatry. Not only did Carson unshod his feet in front of one of his oldest and truest friends, he did it in front of an entire English beach. If that doesn't illustrate a flagrant disregard for propriety and conservative dress, I don't know what does.
The Worst: Everything else.
Season Three:
The Best: Carson's eyebrows, and his moment with Mrs. Hughes at the seaside.
While the entire season was plagued by flat dialogue and lackluster drama, Mr. Carson's eyebrows never failed to rise to the occasion. In the presence of any American they remained as close to his hairline as possible in permanent indignation, but never more so than when conversing with the cheeky valet of Cora's brother. Carson's eyebrows spoke volumes with better delivery than the rest of the cast combined. Long may they remain as bushy and expressive as they have always been.
The moment at the seaside was everything that I love about Downton distilled into a perfect exchange between two of my most beloved characters. Beyond being a subtle expression of loyalty and affection, it did more to usher in the 1920s than any other previous attempt by the writers. The sight of Carson's bare feet was more scandalous than Lady Mary's Turkish lover, Sybil's elopement with the chauffeur, and Edith's secret child combined. I almost averted my eyes from the sight of such holy podiatry. Not only did Carson unshod his feet in front of one of his oldest and truest friends, he did it in front of an entire English beach. If that doesn't illustrate a flagrant disregard for propriety and conservative dress, I don't know what does.
The Worst: Everything else.
Season Three:
The Best: Coming off the previous stellar war-time season, this one was slower and had to work a little harder to create the mixture of drama, romance, and dry English humor the show is known for. That being said, Cora's monologue at the deathbed of Sybil was very touching. The outplay of her continued grief was so painful in its alternating coldness and verbal bitterness toward Robert. No one could blame her, and secretly we all agreed with her. Even so, it was a relief to see the grievance soothed with the balm of yet another mother's love, by the hands of the caring if not under-valued family doctor.
Also, Mary's evening gown with the black beaded overlay. Absolutely divine.
The Worst: All things Edith. Her need to be loved was beyond pathetic or even pitiable at this point. Time after time she had thrown herself at a man, only to be rebuffed by either an older, more beautiful sister, a mistaken identity (and a lot of creepy facial bandages), or the fact that her chosen one was twice her age and just plain weird. I've never liked her, and even when jilted at the altar, I found it hard to wish her happiness in spite of it all. If only Edith and Molesly could cross the lines of the social classes like Sybil and Tom. They could sit around and sigh together because, as everyone knows, misery loves company.
Season Two:
The Best: I am almost obnoxiously loyal to this season. The transformation of Mary from self-centered and coldly composed into the girl that handed her rival a handkerchief was amazing. She became a warmer, lovelier person because Matthew believed her to be one. The to and fro of their friendship and affection for one another over the years of the war was held at a perfect note of longing and strange contentment, and then resolved with sweetness, simplicity and surety. This time, they'd finally gotten it right.
The Worst: All things Edith. Her need to be loved was beyond pathetic or even pitiable at this point. Time after time she had thrown herself at a man, only to be rebuffed by either an older, more beautiful sister, a mistaken identity (and a lot of creepy facial bandages), or the fact that her chosen one was twice her age and just plain weird. I've never liked her, and even when jilted at the altar, I found it hard to wish her happiness in spite of it all. If only Edith and Molesly could cross the lines of the social classes like Sybil and Tom. They could sit around and sigh together because, as everyone knows, misery loves company.
Season Two:
The Best: I am almost obnoxiously loyal to this season. The transformation of Mary from self-centered and coldly composed into the girl that handed her rival a handkerchief was amazing. She became a warmer, lovelier person because Matthew believed her to be one. The to and fro of their friendship and affection for one another over the years of the war was held at a perfect note of longing and strange contentment, and then resolved with sweetness, simplicity and surety. This time, they'd finally gotten it right.
An honorable mention goes to William in every single scene in which he appeared. His genuine sweetness and loyalty to those he loved was wholesome, endearing, and heart-breaking. Daisy could not have been loved by better, whether she wanted it or not. Downton has yet to see another footman that is his equal.
The Worst: The miracles. Matthew's recovery from a spinal injury that had surely doomed him to a wheelchair forever. Lavinia's ability to give up the ghost at the moment when she became truly inconvenient. But above all, the astonishing speed at which Mr. Bates disappeared on the village green when Anna spotted him. The man does have a limp, right?
Season One:
The Best: The sheer beauty of it all. The pale, dark-eyed beauty of Mary. Her gorgeous clothes. The opulence of the Abbey, it's furniture, dinner parties, and even flower arrangements. And of course, The Dowager Lady Grantham and her delivery of the wonderfully witty scripting.
The Worst: The first season was brief enough that not many of the characters, beyond Edith and Daisy, became truly annoying. By the end of the season I knew that both Edith and Daisy were perpetually discontent with their lot in life, and would vocalize it at any opportunity. The good far outweighed the bad in this season, and left me wanting more.
So there you have it. You now know, without a doubt, that I have spent entirely too many hours thinking about and analyzing this show, much less re-watching the episodes.
I can hardly wait to see what the rest of Season Five has in store!
The Worst: The miracles. Matthew's recovery from a spinal injury that had surely doomed him to a wheelchair forever. Lavinia's ability to give up the ghost at the moment when she became truly inconvenient. But above all, the astonishing speed at which Mr. Bates disappeared on the village green when Anna spotted him. The man does have a limp, right?
Season One:
The Best: The sheer beauty of it all. The pale, dark-eyed beauty of Mary. Her gorgeous clothes. The opulence of the Abbey, it's furniture, dinner parties, and even flower arrangements. And of course, The Dowager Lady Grantham and her delivery of the wonderfully witty scripting.
The Worst: The first season was brief enough that not many of the characters, beyond Edith and Daisy, became truly annoying. By the end of the season I knew that both Edith and Daisy were perpetually discontent with their lot in life, and would vocalize it at any opportunity. The good far outweighed the bad in this season, and left me wanting more.
So there you have it. You now know, without a doubt, that I have spent entirely too many hours thinking about and analyzing this show, much less re-watching the episodes.
I can hardly wait to see what the rest of Season Five has in store!
Hello! Welcome to Life by Holland. The idea for this blog grew out of a series of emails I sent to my mom reviewing episodes of Downton Abbey. I have enjoyed the show ever since I came across the first season on Netflix back in 2011. Last year I wrote a few emails to Mom, summarizing the most recent episode and sharing my thoughts and feelings about it. Then I did the same for the first episode of Season Five. I knew that I had other friends who were fans of the show and who might enjoy reading what I had to say and sharing their own thoughts and opinions. I called Mom to pitch the idea, received her blessing to take the party out of the inbox, and here we are! So for now, the blog will be about Downton Abbey, with the possibility of expanding its scope in the future. If blogging about moments of my life becomes detrimental to my life, then I will reserve this blog for the Downton season exclusively.
There will be two posts relating to episodes from Season Four, one that is a recap of the best and worst from each previous season, and a review of Season Five, Episode One. I plan to write a review of each subsequent episode and post it to the blog by Tuesday of that week. Episodes of Downton are a little like birthdays; the enjoyment of them should be drawn out as long as possible. All in favor of birth months instead of birth days, raise your hand.
Thank you for your time and attention. There are so many thought-provoking, soul- and life-enriching blogs out there, that taking even a moment to stop by mine is a huge compliment that I do not take for granted. If this blog does even a little bit to brighten your day or make you think differently about a situation or character from the show, then I will feel like I've been successful.
Happy viewing!
-Ashley
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