Downton Abbey - Season 3 Episode 2 - Recap and Review
Worry is a universal constant. Whether it's concern about health, about money, or about the happiness and well-being of those we love. These are all regrettably germane to the human condition. Worry isn't going anywhere. Downton Abbey is a show that gets us to care about the Crawleys and the people in their immediate sphere by appealing to this universal condition. For as often as our worries amount to nothing of any great concern, it's just as likely that hardship can come when we're least expecting it. Take, for instance, the case of poor Lady Edith (Laura Carmichael), the Charlie Brown of Downton Abbey. It's cruelly ironic that, in an episode where Hughes (Phyllis Logan) is in perpetual dread over her impending test results and Mary (Michelle Dockery) is horrified by the prospect of losing Downton, it's the person without a care in the world who winds up drawing the short straw. Lady Edith has always had it rough, in a way. She's certainly pretty, after a fashion, but she's never approached the dazzling, elegant beauty of her sisters, nor has she inspired the number of suitors. She's very much a woman who's watched life from the sidelines, rarely getting asked to dance, and watching on as Mary yawned at the prospect of marrying cousin Patrick, with whom Edith nursed a lasting infatuation. This is to say nothing of the bumpy road Edith and Sir Anthony Strallan (Robert Bathurst) have traversed to get to their big wedding day. Edith isn't a saint, but she hardly deserves to get ditched at the altar. Hell, no matter what romantic comedies would have you believe, no one deserves to get ditched at the altar. Not even Camilla Parker-Bowles.
Credit: PBS
This show has soap opera elements, and many outlets would tell you this is as straight-up a traditional soap opera as exists on television. Yet Strallan's cold feet seems like such a melodramatic conceit that it's almost impossible to fathom they'd go through with it - even though the show has made similarly ridiculous conceits in the past ("Hey, look! It's cousin Patrick! Still alive! But disfigured!"). Making matters even more tragically absurd, Strallan's excuses basically boil down to "You can do better", and while Robert and Edith try to dissuade him from bailing, it's the Dowager Countess who displays the only sober bit of reasoning in the church, telling Edith that she should just let him go. Because the truth of the matter is that, for all her Jan Brady-like complaints and self-esteem issues that accompany being the middle child to two pretty, popular sisters, she really could do better than Sir Anthony. Of course, it's not like this is anything Edith wants to hear. She wanted to be the focal point of attention for once, and she is. Unfortunately, it's for the worst possible reasons, short of having died. It's unfortunate in that this seems to be Edith's lot, yet I can't, for the life of me, figure out why. I can't possibly be the only person on Earth who thinks Edith is objectively beautiful. (Of course, I do have a long-standing weakness for the English) I suppose it's the story Julian Fellowes is trying to tell with the character, and it works, for the most part. She seems to be resigned to her spinsterdom, even though the audience likely isn't nearly as ready to give up on Edith as she is ready to give up on herself.
Credit: PBS
The filmmaking does a lot of the work in communicating the inherent sadness of this storyline, as the first shots of the episode treat the viewer to the meticulous wedding preparations around Downton Abbey, from the flowers being arranged, to the table being set, and the servants switching out the carpets. It's the music of happy hustle and bustle. However, once Edith has been jilted, we're treated to the inverse of that happy series of shots: we see the flowers being put away, the cake being hauled off, the old carpet being rolled back out, Edith's veil fluttering down from the staircase as she tosses it away. It's beautiful filmmaking, but it's devastating in what it's communicating. Sir Anthony might have cloaked his cowardice in the armor of nobility, of doing the honorable thing by freeing a young woman from the anchor of an old man, but it doesn't change the fact that pursuing Edith so ardently and then ditching her at the altar at the last minute was immeasurably cruel. On Downton Abbey, there is no greater enemy to a woman's happiness than a man's nebulous sense of honor.
Credit: PBS
Which brings us to Matthew (Dan Stevens), who obstinately refuses a fortune out of the superstitious notion that his momentary lapse in fidelity killed Lavinia. This decision comes from an essential facet of his character, whereby he refuses to compromise his sense of honor. It's every bit as fascinating as it is peculiar that the episode so matter-of-factly presents honor as an obstacle to be surmounted. Yet while one could understand why he might not want to take advantage of Lavinia's father, assuming that he didn't know about his infidelity, he was still given the okay by Lavinia to be with Mary (Michelle Dockery) and to feel no guilt or obligation to her memory. So why persist in the refusal to take the money, if not to make some prideful statement of morality? Compromise is a necessity in marriage, yet Matthew is unwilling to budge. And that's sort of the beauty of the show. So much of the drama comes from the simplicity of the conflicts. As is the case tonight, as Matthew receives a posthumous letter from Reggie Swire absolving him of all guilt and imploring him to take the money, as though the late Swire could have anticipated how stubborn Matthew would be. Of course, Matthew can't just accept this - he has to insinuate that either Mary or someone else forged the letter, since how could Reggie have known about his infidelity? And so Mary sets out to find a servant who can vouch for Lavinia having sent a letter before dying, and Daisy (Sophie McShera) finally proves useful for once, saying that Lavinia did compose a letter before her death, and that she had posted it herself. Mary confronts Matthew with the truth, and even though it's only been a week, there's something immensely relieving about the notion that we can finally be over this exhausting business of Matthew refusing yet another fortune he didn't do anything to earn. In this economy, it's pretty ridiculous to be expected to feel much in the way of joy at the prospect of the rich getting richer (or, rather, being saved from ruin). But there are broader implications in the storyline that make it worthwhile, as Matthew's investiture in the Downton estate brings him over the line into the moneyed bourgeoisie. Next to Branson (Allen Leech), Matthew was the last holdout among those resisting becoming "one of them", and this should create a bit of friction as he attempts to reconcile his working class upbringing with his uplifted condition.
Credit: ITV
The episode's other big plot follows Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan) and her possible cancer. The storyline isn't terribly compelling, yet it goes a long way in establishing a family dynamic between those who live upstairs, and those working downstairs, as Cora (Elizabeth McGovern) gets one of the most touching lines of the episode when she tells Hughes, "I don't want you to worry about where you'll go or who will take care of you, because the answers are 'here' and 'we will'". While Mrs. Hughes has always been more of an ancillary figure on the show, her genuine fear over the uncertainty of her medical condition resonates strongly, and ultimate revelation that the cyst is benign is among the more triumphant moments in an episode that is heavy with defeat. The story develops the Carson-Hughes dynamic, which is one of the show's strongest, even central, relationships. They are the heart of the "downstairs" class, and it's exceedingly difficult to imagine Downton without either one. Their friendship is also among the show's most understated. Rarely do they confide in one another, but there's an unspoken fondness there, a tacit understanding of the respect and admiration they share for one another. Perhaps the most touching moment of the episode is when Hughes breaks the news to Carson, through Mrs. Patmore (Lesley Nicol), that the cyst is benign. As she walks down the halls immediately afterwards, she spies Carson singing happily as he polishes the silver. Hughes can hardly contain her tears, seeing Carson so happy with relief over her condition. It's a touching moment that doesn't require an explicit acknowledgment of how close they are, or how vital to one another's lives they've become. It's the kind of moment Downton does best.
Credit: ITV
Of course, not everything about this episode is as enjoyable. Thomas (Rob James-Collier) uses Molesley (Kevin Doyle) to plant the idea in Cora's head that O'Brien (Siobhan Finneran) intends to leave Downton Abbey, creating a host of trouble for O'Brien, who gets lectured to by Cora, who feels betrayed and disappointed. When it comes to light that Thomas is responsible for the lie, O'Brien confronts her former partner-in-crime and gives him a stern warning of the troubles that are going to be coming his way. We also have the continued investigation by Anna (Joanne Froggatt) into Vera's potentially suicidal tendencies. Bates (Brendan Coyle), once one of the show's most visible and identifiable characters in the early-going, is little more than a cipher for insurmountable sadness these days, and it utterly kills the momentum of any episode, especially since it feels like, narratively, it shouldn't be taking nearly this long for the storyline to figure out what its endgame is going to be. In addition, there's a brief plot in which Isobel (Penelope Wilton) tries to help fallen maid Ethel Parks (Amy Nuttall), who has turned to prostitution to support herself and her son, Charlie. It's merely the seed of a larger potential arc, so it doesn't seem entirely fair to assess its worth just yet.
Credit: ITV
That said, ignoring the minor misfires, this is the best episode of Downton this season, thus far. We're hardly out of the woods, where the subject of honor is concerned, and we'll never really be out of the woods in the worry department. But it feels like these are people better-equipped to manage, more so than even a year ago, when the war was raging all around them. The resiliency of the Crawleys and their servants are reason enough to justify our investment in the direction the show is headed.
