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.
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