Downton Abbey - Recap: The Acquisition of Memories
Recap and review of Downton Abbey - Series 4 Episode 4:
Now this is a bit more like it.
The best episodes of Downton Abbey, I find, are the episodes that do away with the pretensions toward high-minded drama, and instead embrace soap opera melodrama in earnest -- and in excess. This is an episode that has all that excess, offering up blackmail, a black male, the ruin of a terrible woman, and a romance that progresses so ludicrously fast that it would be ridiculous if it weren't so compulsively watchable. There are also moments of genuine tenderness, and storyline beats that continue to make the case that Mrs. Hughes is the one character on TV who's virtually impossible not to love. But don't get me wrong -- Anna's rape storyline still drives me nuts on principle, and the doe-eyed love affair between Edith and Gregson is growing tiresome. But the good outweighs the bad this week, and given how uneven this season has been so far, that's a huge victory for the show.
The big development this week is Lord Anthony Gillingham (Tom Cullen) formally declaring his intentions after what amounts to roughly a day or two of courtship, asking Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) to marry him. It's completely stunning and jarring and ridiculous, but it works mostly because Cullen is a remarkably sincere actor, and he makes "You fill my brain" sound like the most honest thing any man has ever said about a woman. "You're very convincing," Mary tells him, utterly floored by this exceedingly random proposal. "Then be convinced," he responds, in a line so smooth it could be the filling for some glorious new candy bar made of nothing but chocolate and flirtatious rhetoric.
Gillingham tells her he'll wait for her however long she needs him to wait -- weeks, months, years -- as long as he knows she'll marry him at the end of it all. But Mary can't make the commitment, since Matthew still fills her brain -- and really, there's no reason he shouldn't be. Matthew hasn't been dead a year, and it wasn't as if their romance had been some trifling thing. One would imagine it would take a person quite a long time to get over the love of their life, if they get over it at all. But Gillingham takes the rejection well, saying that his prayers will be with her in all that she does. However, he does ask for one favor before parting, a gift by which he can remember her -- a simple kiss. As if compelled by some otherworldly force, Mary finds her face drawing towards Gillingham's, and before long, they're entwined in a deep, passionate kiss. When Mary meets with Tom (Allen Leech) at the end of the episode, she voices her belief that she may have made a big mistake in letting Gillingham go, as he's now going to marry his perfectly nice, unassuming fiance.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
But there are plenty of other issues abounding this week, some more successful than others. Anna (Joanne Froggatt) continues to feel guilty about having been raped, telling Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan) that she fears she may have invited the attack upon herself. Hughes asks her to consider going to the police and possibly seeing a doctor, in the event that she could be with child, but Anna wants it to remain a secret, for fear that Bates (Brendan Coyle) will kill Green (Nigel Harman) and be hanged as a murderer. Even if it ruins their marriage, Anna tells Hughes, "Better a broken heart than a broken neck." And it already is ruining things between them, as Anna cannot stand being touched but won't explain to Bates why. The storyline still bugs me from a narrative perspective, but at a contextual level it actually illustrates the gender disparity of the period while drawing comparisons with similar issues in our own time. Rape victims still act this way today, as rape is an act that breeds self-doubt every bit as much as it does shame. Anna doesn't want Bates to touch her because she feels she's been soiled, that she's unclean. It says a lot about the psychological damage to which she's been subjected, and Froggatt's portrayal is quietly devastating.
However, while last week floated the idea that Edna (MyAnna Buring) may have had less-than-consensual sex with Tom, we thankfully learn she didn't actually rape him. He just got so drunk that he wasn't thinking very clearly. It's a point of regret for Tom, who talks about how he didn't intend to hurt Edna or anything. But unlike Gillingham, Edna doesn't take rejection very well, storming into his room and subtly attempting to blackmail him: she tries to imply that she could become pregnant, and says she wants to know he'll take care of her if she does. He tries to avoid the question altogether and keeps putting her off, until her insistence makes it clear that she's not really in it to have a father for her unborn child. No, as we learn from her interactions with Thomas (Rob James-Collier), she's doing a bit of social climbing.
And what's frightening about it is that it might have actually worked if not for Mrs. Hughes, who paws around Edna's things and discovers a copy of Marie Stopes' Married Love. With this evidence, Hughes is able to deduce Edna's entire scheme, calling her out on it in front of Tom and saying that she'll bring the doctor in to examine her if she persists in her blackmail attempts. "I'll strip the clothes off you myself!" Hughes roars, in her articulately particular manner. In addition, Hughes tells Edna that if she breathes a word of Tom's indiscretion to Lady Cora (Elizabeth McGovern), she'll never get another job in another house for as long as she lives. And with that, Edna is sent on her way and Mrs. Hughes solidifies her status as the best character on this show when she proves to Tom that she was bluffing the entire time about knowing what the devious lady's maid was up to. Makes the entire storyline worth it (as does Thomas laying the verbal smack on Edna by telling her he's happy to see her plans come to ruin. Smarmy Thomas is the best Thomas).
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
We also have a series of stories that hit or miss, depending on your level of interest. Hughes getting Carson (Jim Carter) a framed picture of his late love, Alice, is a wonderful little story that gives us the episode's loveliest moment, as Hughes tells Carson that even though Alice didn't choose him in life, he ultimately learned she loved him above all, prompting Carson to poignantly reflect that "The business of life is the acquisition of memories." Carson and Hughes together is always gold. However, the same can't be said of the ongoing business with Edith (Laura Carmichael) and Gregson (Charles Edwards), who continue to circle around having things actually happen in their storyline. Lady Rosamund (Samantha Bond) warns her niece that this flirtation is unlikely to end well, invoking the name of Sir Anthony Strallan, which Edith doesn't appreciate. Yet Rosamund has issues closer to home that she's been worrying about, as Rose (Lily James) befriends a handsome black singer by the name of Jack Ross (Gary Carr). It's a charming detour from the usual sour melodrama, and the brief scene at the club in which Jack sings and then rescues Rose from her inebriated date is a thousand times more substantive than the ongoing love square in the servants' quarters.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
Daisy (Sophie McShera) sees Jimmy (Ed Speelers) taking Ivy (Cara Theobold) into the boot room. And so she decides to use the information to try and make Alfred (Matt Milne) get over his crush on Ivy -- she tells him she last saw Ivy in the boot room but neglects to mention she was with anybody. When Alfred opens the door, he sees Jimmy kissing Ivy. Daisy feels immediately guilty about having subjected Alfred to the heartbreaking sight, and may now have further cause for regret when she learns that Alfred is thinking of applying to work at a ritzy hotel in London. 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. I'm still struggling to get invested in the storyline, which is troubling given the amount of screentime it's getting. But it's hardly the worst story in the world or anything.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
Downton Abbey has made a marked improvement over last week's dire episode with an installment that fully embraces the melodrama. Not every episode can be like this, naturally, but it's encouraging to see the show actually make some honest progression in its plot.