So thrilled to be rejoining the Crawley family at Downton Abbey for a fifth season! We were once again ushered to Highclere castle by the furry white posterior of Britain’s most famous period drama dog, Isis, in the opening credits (seriously guys, it’s been five years, can’t you get someone else’s ass now? I mean I’d prefer Lady Mary’s but I’d settle for Mr. Fellows if it meant a change in scenery).
Last season I decided to write reviews for the various episodes and did my best to keep up…which left me combining episodes I had fallen behind upon and wondering if I ever wrote a final review for the last episode (I most likely did not). Thus, if you care to and have a little extra time, you can read on my humble and hopefully comedic perspective of the show’s happenings, and if not, no worries, I expect life will get in the way and put a sound stop to my ranting and reflections soon hereafter. I am hoping this goes without saying, but say it I shall to avoid liability: spoilers ahead!
In our return to Downton we find our ever ill-fated Edith mourning the ongoing loss of her baby, little Marigold (yes, that’s her name, not sure if she’s of noble blood or hippie-offspring but she’s damn cute). Edith manages to find her way to subtly push in on the fostering family and continue to be a shrouded part of her daughter’s life. Oddly, she breaks the mold with her maternal instinct and is far more involved in little Blossum -er Petunia –um Chrysanthemum’s life than Mary is with George, but Edith may have an obstacle to overcome. The foster mother seems wary of Edith’s intentions toward her husband, but these concerns are of course totally baseless; far be it from Lady Edith to kiss another woman’s husband….a third time…I mean she has morals damn it!
Sauntering upstairs we find the beloved elites sitting about after a tiring day of taking off hats and waiting for visiting hours with the children. Lord Donk (as he shall be aptly named for the remainder of this blog and countless others) is grappling with another opportunity to feel important, included, and wanted with a war memorial committee, but then struggles when he is passed over for Carson, a slight which he pouts over for the rest of the episode. The family prepares for numerous houseguests and inconveniences as Donk and Cora approach their wedding anniversary. Down below, Daisy is complaining yet again as another kitchen maid bit the dust in the last season and she’s caught with the workload. I swear house/kitchen maids and footmen are like the Starks in the Game of Downton. Julian is killing them all off one by one! Sure they’re supposedly off to bigger and better things, but the reality is Gwen’s job as a secretary relocated her to the north of the Wall and she died at Castle Black after uttering her now famous catchphrase “I want to learn shorthand.” Sad, but true. Who knows what dear Ivy’s fate will be.
Love was in the air at Downton; in fact it was rank with it as Pretty boy Jimmy tried to “put off” his former employer, Lady Anstruther, at which he fought valiantly once or twice until a carefully plotted visit to the abbey found him quickly slipping between the sheets with her. Cousin Isobel continued to play the field with Lord Merton, but no chance of happiness for Isobel goes without intervention from the Death-eater Dowager. Cousin Violet was soon confronted with the possibility that she would share titles with her adversary, and, sucking the potential joy from Isobel’s life, she too hatched her own plot to cut the rope on this social climber. Lady Mary is still entertaining the ongoing battle for her heart with Lord Gillingham, silently positing that she should have the opportunity to dance the horizontal mambo before she chooses who to marry. Um, Mary, you tried that; you killed him. But at least you’re no quitter! And Gillingham is game too, but perhaps he’s oblivious to your track record as a Black Widow…I say go for it. Whatever happens, the pool of eligible bachelors may be narrowed, making your decision much easier. Even Tom got into the game, though he was forcibly subjected by match-making Rose when she invited Miss Bunting to the Crawley anniversary dinner. An outspoken revolutionist herself with a good head on her shoulders, she rubbed the aristocratic family the wrong way like some chaffing knock-off brand of Spanx when becoming vocal. This of course slightly re-ignited Tom’s old passions for politics and progressive women who routinely piss off Lord Donk with opinions their husbands never gave them.
Last but not least, we are faced with yet another ulcer-inducing episode of Barrow the Bastard and his endless drive to take out Bates once and for all. After threatening her numerous times for inside information on the Bateses, Baxter became increasingly frustrated, refused to back down and eventually gave up the story of her criminal history to Cora (déjà vu anyone?), rendering Barrow powerless with nothing to hold over her head. Cora, never a fan of Barrow, put him in his rightful place and left my mother and me cheering on the couch in hopes of his eventual and completely deserving demise. But thanks to Lady Pyro, after Edith set fire to her bedroom and Thomas whisked her to safety, Cora was blinded by gratitude and planted a big kiss on his shrewd little buttocks, forgetting that Thomas is more slimy and deceitful than Moseley’s “Latin” hair. This, of course quickly elicited a resounding WHAT THE F---?! in my living room, disrupting my neighbors and quite possibly corrupting the young child who lives down the hall. I have to admit, after the multiple shenanigans that Barrow has committed and pulled himself out of (stealing wine, stealing snuff boxes, stealing dogs), this storyline is becoming tiresome. It’s been done, hopefully as we progress through the season, it will not be done again.
Stay Tuned…
Also wishing so much luck to Joanne Froggatt at the Golden Globes this weekend, congrats Anna!
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