Downton Abbey recap: series five, episode one
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Version 0 of 1. SPOILER ALERT: This blog is for people watching Downton Abbey series five. Don’t read on if you haven’t seen series five, episode one. Oh lawks. Here we go again. The labrador’s backside is back. And with it a whole load of other upstairs-downstairs shenanigans, from the enjoyably, camply good to the downright bonkers-implausibly awful. Book-ended by that comforting opening shot of Isis’s ample, aristocratic flanks and a closing glimpse of Richard E Grant’s ample, aristocratic forehead, we entered series five with an episode that was vintage Downton. With all the desperate slapstick of Hi-de-Hi! interspersed with the screeching melodrama of The Towering Inferno, I have to admit that this week’s return offering was actually pretty good. The last we saw of the Crawley household, the servants were having a luvverly time by the seaside in late spring 1923, when Carson finally revealed his ankles to Mrs Hughes. (This was in the 2013 Christmas special.) Now it’s 1924 and Britain has its first Labour prime minister, Ramsay MacDonald. (Taking my cue from Uncle Julian, I have checked this on Google.) Wheel on Floozy Socialist Schoolteacher Miss Bunting and crank up the historical exposition! “They’d prefer to be in factories or shops. They like the hours better ...” “When did we last have a prime minister who understood the working class?” We must steel ourselves for more of this “times-they-are-a-changing” clunkery for the next eight weeks. As we know from the past four series, though, history never quite touches Downton in the way the inhabitants of the Abbey fear it will. Instead, what mattered this week was that Edith learned to ride a bike, Baxter spilled the beans about her thieving past (before Barrow could blackmail her) and Cousin Violet put a stop to Lord Merton’s attentions towards Cousin Isobel. As usual, blink and you would miss any of this as we careered along at breakneck pace, picking up clues to the plot like breadcrumbs in a dark, dark forest. Kindly Pig Farmer Man (whose wife is Edith’s Ginger Doppelganger) does not know that not-so-baby-anymore Marigold is actually Edith’s? And neither does Edith’s Ginger Doppelganger? And, hang on, Generous Pig Farmer Man is also a volunteer Fireman? That’s handy! And, what’s this, Mr Gregson (the Editor Man Who Disappeared to Germany – please keep up) has written his name in the flyleaf of the German primer? Is Mr Gregson dead? He really has been missing for quite a long time now. And wasn’t Edith going to be the Lady Editor of the Newspaper at one point? I give up. The fire bit was fleetingly exciting as the spectre was raised of the entire Abbey burning down. Now that would have been good. Instead, it was just a few sparks in Edith’s grate in the end. Why, oh why, does this always happen? A huge build-up to a mammoth incident that then shrinks away into nothing. So The Great Fire That Never Was took second place to Molesley’s Latinate Blue Hair as the most exciting thing about this episode. Like I said, vintage Downton. Random subplot alert I had forgotten that this entire show is one long random subplot alert. One minute we had James the footman squirming away from the wandering hands of Lady Anstruther. (Anna Chancellor is fantastic.) The next James and Thomas (Barrow) are best friends and everyone has forgotten that James nearly got Thomas arrested (for making amorous advances). The next we’re onto Daisy who has plans to remodel Microsoft by learning algebra. Meanwhile, the business between Baxter and (Thomas) Barrow was frustrating (despite excellent performances from both Raquel Cassidy and Rob James-Collier). It’s been more than a year since the business with Green (Mini-Den, AKA Tony Gillingham’s valet, who attacked Anna). Barrow would have lent on her harder and earlier than this. Although it did give Barrow and Cora a chance to play a scene they’ve already played half a dozen times before, where he does something awful (like encouraging her to hire a convicted felon), she berates him for his disloyalty and then he redeems himself by doing something heroic. This time he rescued Edith from a non-existent fire. Last time, he rescued Isis from a shed in the wood – which he had locked her in himself. It’s a progression of sorts. Surprise character development “I want us to be lovers, Mary.” Heavens. “If Papa was here, he’d hit you on the nose.” Gillingham, the ill-defined aristo whose name sounds like that of a used car salesman, is back on the scene and he has developed a small indication of personality. While we still know very little about him, we have at least found out that he is interested in the thing that is referred to in Downton as “that”. (Let’s hope it’s not quite the same kind of “that” that Mr Pamuk, the ill-fated Turkish ambassador, was interested in.) Lady Mary’s suitors were going to have to be whittled down at some point. It makes sense for Gillingham to be around as long as Green’s death is still unresolved and a cloud of suspicion hangs over Bates. Golden eyebrow award of the week Severe upper-forehead action all round this week. In particular, the Earl of Grantham (Hugh Bonneville) seems to have gone for an early choice of apoplexy for his default emotion for this series. Carson made a strong bid with some strenuous eye-popping as Lady Anstruther groped James over the miniature cheesecakes. But we find one easy winner in Cousin Isobel (Penelope Wilton). Cousin Violet (Dame Maggie): “He just wants what all men want.” Cousin Isobel’s Eyebrow: “Don’t be ridiculous.” Violet: “I was referring to companionship. As I hope you were.” Honestly, I hope Uncle Julian sends flowers to Penelope Wilton and Dame Maggie on a weekly – no, hourly – basis because they are given so little and they do so, so much with it. Excuse me, could you just repeat that awkward line of dialogue? “Molesley – you look very Latin all of a sudden. Do you have Italian blood?” We love Molesley’s hangdog face. “He’s a considerable figure in the village ... And can you put my milk in first if that’s for me?” The assertive lady committee member who came to talk about the war memorial would make a fine match for Mr Carson. Move over, Mrs Hughes. “Lady Edith chose to set fire to her room.” Let’s see more of the sister bitch-fight this series. “I’m afraid it’s Donk for the moment.” “Goodbye, darlings.” “Goodbye, Donk.” Best dialogue in the entire show ever. Next week More goings-on between supporters of the king and those who are not supporters of the king. (Things are changing. Got it?) Cousin Violet continues to wage war against Cousin Isobel: “Lord Merton is frisking around her skirts …” And Withnail’s in da Abbey. Bring on the finest wines available to humanity! |