Downton Abbey - Recap: Should Have Let Him Put A Ring On It
This is a review of the American airing of Downton Abbey – Season 4, Episode 3. There will be slight differences from the original UK airing, necessitating a different approach. However, reviews for the original episodes can be found by clicking the “Downton Abbey” tag. Episodes from UK airings are tagged as “Series 4,” while American airings will be listed as “Season 4.”
Credit: Carnival Films
Though it's been a week for U.S. audiences (and much longer for U.K. audiences), Downton Abbey is continuing to catch hell for Anna's rape. It isn't simply that Anna (Joanne Froggatt) has been victimized with no obvious route towards justice, but rather that many find the plotline to be more about Bates (Brendan Coyle) than about the victim herself. But that isn't really the case with this week's episode, as Anna's travails play out more in the background in a way that feels far more honest to the situation. Why wouldn't Anna downplay what's happened to her? It's presented as a tragedy that Anna doesn't really have anyone to turn to but Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan), as she really can't trust her husband not to get himself locked away in jail or hanged. It reads as more of an indictment of Bates than a call to sympathy. And that's what I liked about this, that even while the storyline wasn't center stage this week, the fallout from Anna's rape was much more about her process in dealing with it than it was about the reactions of other people. As unfortunate as it is to say, the fact that Anna doesn't report a thing is all too true to life. And it's hardly the only element of Anna's rape storyline that feels authentic.
Credit: Carnival Films
For example, Anna continues to feel guilty about having been raped, telling Mrs. Hughes that she fears she may have brought this on herself. In her meekness, she can't see that Green (Nigel Harman) was a complete and total villain here, and that she herself did nothing to invite the attack. But Anna just wants everything to be swept under the rug, to prevent Bates from even suspecting anything is amiss. Even if it ruins their marriage, Anna tells Hughes, "Better a broken heart than a broken neck." Of course, it's not as if her sudden moroseness isn't remarked upon by everyone from Robert (Hugh Bonneville) to Cora (Elizabeth McGovern), who all seem to recognize that Anna is not herself. And, to make matters worse, even though Bates remains blissfully ignorant of what was done to his wife, Anna's evasiveness is beginning to take its toll on their marriage. Anna recoils when Bates touches her, but won't explain why. For Anna, it's a feeling of having brought impurity into an otherwise pure union, so that she feels she's been soiled, and fears passing on that uncleanliness to Bates. It's a succinct summation of the the psychological damage to which Anna has been subjected, and Froggatt is absolutely killing it in this role, portraying Anna as vividly as if the event, at all times, had just happened five minutes into the past.
Credit: Carnival Films
But as grim and dour as the Anna storyline is, it finds its contrast in the blossoming romance between Mary (Michelle Dockery) and Anthony Gillingham (Tom Cullen), who stuns Lady Mary by proposing after what amounts to the world's briefest, borderline nonexistent courtship. The speed at which this romance progresses would be utterly ludicrous if this weren't a primetime soap. It's true that Downton Abbey can do melodramatic soap opera excess with the best of them, and that's pretty much what this storyline is. It's as cheesy as the Edith/Gregson affair, but somehow more compelling. Basically, Gillingham declares his intentions with some of the floweriest prose this side of Dickens. It's a credit to Tom Cullen that he could make a line like "You fill my brain" sound so achingly sincere. And it nearly does the trick, as Mary confesses, "You're very convincing." Galvanized by Mary's lack of an instant rejection, Gillingham presses on: "Then be convinced." Clearly, this is a man whose smoothness has not been equaled since Billy Dee Williams sold Colt 45 in the days of yore. If Anthony Gillingham were a household item, he'd be the cool side of the pillow.
Gillingham lays it on thick, telling Mary he'll break off his engagement with his nice (if unassuming) fiance and wait for however long she needs in order to move on from Matthew, whether it's a matter of weeks, months, or years. As long as he knows there's a future for them at the end of the tunnel, Gillingham is willing to wait. However, Mary can't make that sort of commitment, given that she's hardly been a widow for six months, and one would imagine it would take a person a bit longer than that to get over a romance as deeply involved as the one between Mary and Matthew. But Gillingham, ever the noble slickster, asks for one parting gift to remember her by -- a kiss. Even though she likely knows this is a bad idea, Mary seems compelled to give in -- maybe it's his gentlemanly nature, maybe it's his kind heart, or maybe it's just that he's handsome. Who knows? But Mary finds herself having a snog with Gillingham, and it's a pretty deep, passionate kiss, all things considered. And though they leave it at that, Mary eventually confesses her doubts to Tom (Allen Leech) at the end of the episode, voicing her fears that she may have made a mistake in letting Gillingham go. And it's kind of fitting she makes this confession to Branson, as the former chauffeur is on the hook for some poor decision-making of his own.
Credit: Carnival Films
Unfortunately, while it came across last week as if Edna (MyAnna Buring) had drugged Tom with whiskey in order to take advantage of him with some less-than-consensual sexing, it turns out Tom was more or less in his right mind. He was tipsy and not exactly thinking clearly, but Tom doesn't consider it a case of his being led to do something he didn't want to do. If nothing else, Tom is a stand-up guy, and he owns up to his mistake with Edna, telling her that he deeply regrets what happened, and apologizes for hurting her with his rejection, as he didn't intend to cause her pain. But unlike Gillingham, Edna doesn't take the rejection all that well, storming into his room and subtly attempting to blackmail him by implying that she could become pregnant. But Mrs. Hughes comes to the rescue, discovering a copy of Marie Stopes' Married Love among Edna's things and using it to deduce her entire scheme of entrapping Tom. And so Hughes becomes MVP of the universe by threatening to bring in a doctor to examine Edna if she persists in her blackmail attempts. "I'll strip the clothes off you myself!" Hughes roars, which is probably the wrong choice of words the week after a rape storyline, but Hughes has a way of making everything sound so articulately powerful. Hughes also tells Edna that if she so much as breathes a word of Tom's indiscretion to Lady Cora, she'll never get another job in a respectable house for as long as she lives. And so Edna is sent packing with a smarmy send-off from Thomas (Rob James-Collier), for truly, a smug Thomas is the best Thomas.
Credit: Carnival Films
As for the rest of the episode, we are finally introduced to our first black character, in the form of handsome jazz singer Jack Ross (Gary Carr). He's the singer at a party Rose (Lily James) attends, and though they're in the vicinity of one another the entire night, Jack and Rose don't have occasion to meet until later in the evening, when Rose's date becomes sick and excuses himself, prompting Jack to step in and save her from embarrassment on the dance floor. It's a sweet moment, although Jack and Rose don't have nearly as much chemistry as the show seems to think they have. But Carr is an affable personality, and a welcome presence on the show.
From there, we get a series of storylines that basically amount to a brief collection of vignettes: Edith (Laura Carmichael) and Gregson (Charles Edwards) finally take it to the bedroom, while Lady Rosamund (Samantha Bond) warns her niece that this romance isn't likely to end well, given how things went with Sir Anthony Strallan...and pretty much every person towards which Edith has shown any interest. And she's not exactly wrong, but it's still a crummy thing to say, particularly given how downtrodden and marginalized Edith so often is.
Credit: Carnival Films
Meanwhile, Daisy (Sophie McShera) sees Jimmy (Ed Speelers) taking Ivy (Cara Theobold) into the boot room, and figures they're heading there for less-than-savory purposes. And so she decides to get vindictive and use the opportunity to force Alfred (Matt Milne) to get over his Ivy fixation, telling him that Ivy is in the boot room, but neglecting to mention that she's with anyone. When poor Alfred opens the door, he sees Jimmy and Ivy making out, which puts him in a dour, defeated mood. Daisy immediately feels guilty -- doubly so when she learns that Alfred is intending to apply at a chef training school to get away from it all. Mrs. Patmore (Lesley Nicol) tells Daisy to try and make amends, saying that it'll be better for everyone if she and Alfred part as friends, but it might be too late. And even if it isn't, this is still one of the toughest storylines of the series to get invested in. Even Hughes giving Carson (Jim Carter) a framed photo of his beloved Alice is more interesting. "Life is about the acquisition of memories," indeed, Carson.
Overall, while this was a fairly melodramatic hour, it found moments of genuine interest and humanity that illustrate what season 4 is capable of. I'm still not really onboard with Anna's rape storyline, but it's being handled much better than one would expect, given the swift brutality of last week's episode. And thankfully, the show doesn't just sweep the matter under the rug like Anna wishes she could, as there's a lot more to this story than can be wrapped up inside of an hour. This is the crucible of lasting change in both Anna and Bates, and its effects will likely reverberate in the storyline between Mary and Gillingham, as Gillingham can't be around Mary without Green being around Anna, heightening tension and creating a conflict in the wants of the viewers. It's smart writing, even if it's a story I'm not exactly crazy about. Even if it seems like a storyline largely done for shock value, Julian Fellowes clearly has a direction in mind, and simply knowing this is all headed somewhere makes all the difference.