Downton Daggers

Nobody says bad things about “Downton Abbey,” the six-year-long drama about life in an old British castle in the early 20^th Century. I’ll be the bad guy.

WARNING: There are major and repeated spoilers in this essay. Do not proceed if you don’t want to know some plot twists and outcomes before watching.  

          I won’t say negative things about the actors or the acting. No. All the actors over the age of 5 are great. The late Maggie Smith as the curmudgeon/grandmother Violet Crawley is especially fantastic. Her facial expressions alone are worth watching 6 years of episodes.

          Some of the plot twists are ridiculous.  The most obvious is the insane pursuit of the oldest daughter Mary Crawley by a series of men who are madly in love with her, even though she’s skinny as a board, has a sharp tongue and has only one real love: Downton Abbey. Her main talent appears to be keeping a straight face no matter what humorous or heartbreaking issue is dangled in front of her. Her love scenes are more than icy; there isn’t a mini-ounce of passion there. (There are no love scenes between Mary and Downton Abbey. Alas).

          Maybe even more ridiculous than the lineup of men pursuing Mary are the evil servants who never get fired. Thomas Barrow, for example, is a mixture of evil and good, 99% evil, 1% good. He tries to screw everybody (metaphorically). The Crawleys, who employ him through the head butler Mr. Carson, never catch on to his sleaziness. Totally unbelievable. Also unbelievable – and unfair and detestable — is his getting promoted when Mr. Carson is aware of his blackmail and his scheming nastiness. In the finale, Barrow is made head butler. Unreal and, frankly, disgusting.

          And what about Mr. Bates, the much older husband of ladies’ maid Anna? Bates is tall, dark and somewhat handsome. He is miscast as Robert Crawley’s “man.” If it weren’t for the clothes, in scenes with Bates and Crawley together, the viewer could easily assume that Bates is the master. He’s hunky and mysterious, whereas Crawley is just a snobby character. However, Bates falls short as a romantic figure.  Like the Crawleys upstairs, Bates is too starchy to be passionate. It’s a mystery how he and Anna manage to father a son. Tender looks won’t do it.

          The Bateses get another dishonorable mention: Both of them are thrown into prison at different times for the murder of the man who raped Anna. (Is this silly or what?) Bates himself can’t manage to look disreputable in a 5-day beard and prison garb. There is no escaping his “refinement.” And Anna is her usual self in prison: demure, quiet, understanding, frightened, loving, sickly-looking – all those adjectives.

          Branson, the former Downton chauffeur who falls in love and marries Sybil, the middle daughter of the Crawleys, is as disappointing as Maria in “The Sound of Music.” Recall Part 1 of the “Sound of Music,” in which Maria is a lively, beautiful, song-filled person with unbounded energy and an intuitive manner with children. After she “gets her man,” she turns into a quiet frump, following behind her husband without even a solo.

          Branson, the Irish activist, follows the Maria pattern. He gets the girl, which causes a haughty schism within the Crawley family. The servants disapprove also. He’s only a chauffeur, for God’s sake. When Sybil dies after childbirth, leaving Branson the single parent of Sybbie, he accepts his second-class role in the Crawley family, relinquishes his political activism, appears at dinner in the correct ties and tails, and keeps his mouth shut. By the sixth season, he’s even looking aristocratically paunchy.

  Here’s the biggest issue: The series actually promotes the fiction that the only way to find happiness is to fall in love and marry. The 50% divorce rate should have us shaking our heads at this idea. In the Downton era, couples stayed married, but 50% were miserable and divorced-in-place. In Downton, the only character who does not wind up married is Barrow, who is gay. Everyone else “lives happily ever after” in marriage, even (hopefully) Mrs. Patmore, the feisty cook. Daisy, the kitchen helper, gets her head straight and goes off with the footman. Mrs. Hughes, the maids’ supervisor, marries Mr. Carson. Edith, the youngest Crawley daughter, finally, finally, finally, marches down the aisle with a man who lives in a preposterously large castle. And the independent, progressive spirit, Isobel Crawley, Mary’s mother-in-law, falls in love and agrees to marry a widower.

Everyone is happy.

Harumph.

OK. Here’s the good thing: Downton Abbey shows us how hideous life could be in the “olden days,” when people were uptight about everything, intolerant of difference in any shape or color, and ruled by personal and social shaming. Horrible! Rules and etiquette were like invisible straight jackets, barely controlling the misery underneath. We should remember this when people threaten to restore the old values in times past. Downton demonstrates how silly it all was.