Downton Abbey - Recap: Upstairs/Downstairs
Recap and review of Downton Abbey - Series 4 Episode 6:
Well, this was a bit of a mess for Downton Abbey. Not a dull mess though, to be sure. But this episode was all over the place, and the script's commitment to servicing every plotline this week ultimately meant that none of them were serviced. It felt like we spent roughly 90 seconds with each storyline before jettisoning off to the next one, and then back again. While Downton has always done this, it felt far more jarring this week than in weeks past, as it felt we were being taken away from a storyline right at its point of development. In some cases, we never really returned to those story threads again. I'm not sure the show is well-served by the "check-in" approach, which does little more than remind us that certain characters exist, despite little, if anything, having changed from the last time we checked in on them. Ultimately, while this wasn't a bad episode of Downton, it felt strangely insubstantial for roughly 70% of its runtime.
So there isn't really a main story this week, per se, since we don't really spend enough time with one particular story long enough for it to feel like the main arc of the episode. If I had to pick one, it would likely be the continued marital turmoil between Anna (Joanne Froggatt) and Bates (Brendan Coyle), and even then, calling it "marital turmoil" would be a bit of a misnomer. Their marriage is going through a rough patch, and it's not so much a result of Anna's rape as it is a result of Bates' difficulty coming to terms with his feeling of powerlessness. He keeps treating Anna like a victim because he feels partially responsible for failing to protect her. While Anna is happy that their marriage is back on track, there's still the stumbling block of Bates' attitude, since she resents being handled with kid gloves. During a rare dinner date at an upscale restaurant, Anna apologizes for how things have been, prompting Bates to tell her, for seemingly the thousandth time in the episode, to stop apologizing, telling her that there's nothing for her to be sorry about.
The resulting conversation is more a disagreement than an actual argument, but Anna basically tells Bates that she doesn't like how he views her as a victim. Anna is seizing agency in her own life, and making the decision not to be completely ruined by what has happened, and she needs Bates to back her up on it, to not see her as this broken, withered little thing. Of course, that's understandably difficult for Bates. "Every time I remember what you've been through, I want to murder," Bates tells her, and it's one of the darkest lines of the episode, not only for what's being said on the surface, but for the underlying meaning. Bates means this as a declaration of his love every bit as much as he means it as a vow for vengeance. It says a lot about Bates' mindset. There's always been this darkness to Bates, and it takes us back to the kind of man he'd been in the first two seasons, where you couldn't be entirely certain about his inner nature. It's hard to know whether Bates and Anna's marriage can survive this, but I'm softening to the dramatic possibilities of the rape storyline, despite my initial objections to it.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
Other big developments include confirmation of what we all pretty much figured out after last week: Edith (Laura Carmichael) is pregnant. Of course, Edith doesn't actually tell anyone about her pregnancy, even while everyone can sense that something is dreadfully wrong. For her part, Edith chalks it up to her very real concern for Gregson (Charles Edwards), who's been in Germany for weeks without relaying so much as a word about his well-being. Edith naturally fears that the worst has happened, and simply wants to know. Her family tries their best to reassure her, but reassuring Edith is a zero-sum game.
The storyline is as early into its potential drama as Edith's pregnancy itself, yet the plot produces some genuine quality this week. When Robert (Hugh Bonneville) finds Edith in the study, wiping away tears after having just received the telegram from the doctor's office confirming the findings of his examination), he tries to comfort her by calling her "my dearest girl." This prompts Edith to go on a bitter rant about how it's unlikely she's actually his dearest daughter, resulting in Robert claiming that he loves all his children equally, which Edith shrugs off. She says that while all parents feel compelled to say that about their children, it's unlikely that any of them actually mean it, deep down. It's a remarkably effective scene from Laura Carmichael, who manages to imbue Edith with something more emotionally weighty than simple "middle child syndrome." While it's long past the point of exhaustion to see Edith so perpetually downtrodden, Carmichael's performance continually salvages the seemingly repetitive stories.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
The episode does deserve credit for creating some authentically affecting one-off scenes. Mary (Michelle Dockery) isn't all that enthusiastic about her prospective suitors, who have returned to Downton under the flimsy guise of business dealings, while Tom (Allen Leech) continues to mull over the decision to move to America (poignantly stating that while he's grown to love the Crawley family, he feels has no place in their world, since it's exceedingly unlikely that another Earl's daughter will ever give him the time of day, and it's not like he can just start bringing working class girls around). This all leads to a tremendous little scene in which Mary, Tom, and Isobel (Penelope Wilton) sit in the nursery with baby George and little Sybil and talk about love. Isobel discusses her late husband, Reginald, and recounts how she felt literally "sick with love" when they were first married. Tom affirms this feeling when talking about how hard he fell for Sybil. Mary, meanwhile, recalls Matthew's proposal in the series 2 finale, stating that while she had been cold without her jacket on that snowy evening, she still felt warm because she knew Matthew was about to propose. It's just a beautiful, simple scene that does a lot to remind us of just how endearing these characters can be, even while their individual storylines aren't particularly fruitful. Come to think of it, Isobel's plotline serves a similar function in how it provides an amusing story that reminds us why we like these characters. It's a pretty straightforward affair, as Isobel attempts to exonerate Pegg (Joncie Elmore) from Violet's (Maggie Smith) constant accusations of theft, and it's more funny than compelling. I'll never tire of seeing Penelope Wilton and Maggie Smith butt heads, and Isobel's amateur detective work in ascertaining the location of Violet's missing heirloom is one of my favorite parts of the episode.
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
There are two other memorable storylines this week. In the first, Rose (Lily James) arranges a birthday party for Robert and hires Jack Ross (Gary Carr) to perform, a decision that causes a huge stir among high-society. It's too early into the storyline to really go anywhere, especially since the shocked reaction to having a black man mingling with the upper crust dissolves almost instantly, meaning we don't have the necessary friction to create a storyline. Well, at least not until the end of the episode, as Mary discovers Rose kissing Jack (looks like somebody's heart will go on, at some point), who thanks Mary for how well Downton has "taken care of" him. It's not an unsurprising development, and I'm kind of glad Julian Fellowes didn't go the obvious route and simply have everyone struggling not to be racist about his presence, as one might have expected (although he still could go that route with the storyline, particularly if word of Rose's romantic involvement with Jack gets out).
Credit: Carnival/Masterpiece
But as fun as the outlandish stuff can be, sometimes you just need a no-frills, down-to-Earth storyline. And that's what we got with Alfred (Matt Milne), who departs Downton after receiving a callback from The Ritz when one of the final four candidates for the cooking course drops out. Alfred thanking the Granthams for employing him, while calling Carson (Jim Carter) the kindest mentor he'd ever had, was unexpectedly touching, as was Daisy (Sophie McShera) overcoming her heartbreak just long enough to wish Alfred luck. His heartfelt reaction is lovely, and the entire storyline was my favorite of the week, surprisingly. And it's a simple, brief story, to boot. Not sure if we've seen the last of Alfred, but if this is the last of the character, it's an endearing way for him to go.
Of course, there are other minor storylines, here and there: Molesley (Kevin Doyle) attempting to get rehired as a footman in the wake of Alfred's departure; Thomas (Rob James-Collier) continuing to utilize Baxter as his spy, this time to try and figure out what happened with Anna that is causing all this friction in her marriage; and Jimmy (Ed Speelers) going a bit too far with Ivy (Cara Theobold) after taking her to see The Sheik (an interesting choice, since it's adapted from a novel that has one literature's most controversial rape storylines). Ivy complains about the lack of decent men, only for Daisy to rip her to shreds for ignoring a perfectly good man in Alfred, which is all well and good, and is at least more interesting than the Molesley story that seems to serve no other purpose than to keep Kevin Doyle on the show. And if that's the idea, then it was the right move to just have him get rehired already, even if temporarily, since this means we no longer have to dedicate valuable screentime in getting him to that point. But it felt like the bigger storylines were spread too thin as a result of all the ground the show decided to cover this week. Again, this is far from a bad episode, but I wish the individual episodes had more focus. Since we don't know where the storylines are going, it's hard to single out any individual storyline as extraneous, since it could go on to become important down the line. But I sincerely doubt the entire season is going to hinge on Molesley, or a random gardener whom we've only just met. Hopefully, the focus gets a bit narrower as the weeks go on.