Ugh. That's all I can really say after the eighth episode of this tortuous, emotionally abusive show. The evening left me feeling as though I had been ripped apart, sewn together again, then thrown into a woodchipper before being glued together once more and given a big hug. So much happened, and I'm never at a loss for words; this one's long, so take a deep breath and stay with me.
We step again through the plasma screen to find that the Marquess of Hexham, the cousin and boss of Bertie, has died. Mary, in her usual fashion, gleams just a tad at the prospect of Edith's potential fiancee being unemployed and ending their own journey to happily ever after, more or less because she is now on the road to widowed spinsterhood herself. Edith of course has the last laugh (at least for the first 10 minutes of the show) when she reveals that Bertie is the heir to the estate and the title. Now I know nothing of this British caste system they have going, but apparently the Marquess reigns supreme just above Earls and Elton John, and Edith would then outrank not only Mary and George but her parents as well. Cue the permanent menacing scowl that Mary would wear for the remainder of the show.
Grappling with her own devastation, Mary is confronted by Tom at every turn over Henry, repeatedly citing his lack of position and money as a protective layer for her true fears. Tom wouldn't let up, even as he conjured up the race car driver at the home unexpectedly, sending Mary fuming upstairs before ripping Henry limb from limb. She of course regrets this as she finds him gone the next morning, and decides that she will be the M-bomb of the century, not only self-imploding but taking each innocent life she can catch in her blinding explosion down with her. Well not every innocent life, only one: that of poor Edith. Initially Edith hesitates to announce that Bertie has finally put a ring on it (wait, where was the ring?) because she didn't want to hurt Mary after she had definitively lost her own romance. But the announcement came anyways, and with it the cyanide that Mary has built up in her own heart ran over. Ignoring Tom's prompts to stop, along with my own shouts of "don't you dare! Shut the hell up!", she commends Bertie on "accepting Edith's past," forcing Edith to reveal her secret about Jasmine's maternity. "You bitch! Oh my god you are such a bitch!" That wasn't Edith, that was me...Edith's came later. My heart ached for her; Tom looked as though he might cry. Mary grabbed the newspaper. Everyone else in the house had worried about whether and when Edith should disclose her secret to Bertie. The only hope was to find some way to preserve the happiness of the often downtrodden Crawley sister, whose dolls never did what she wanted them to and whose imaginary friends probably ditched her to play by themselves and talk shit about her. Mary on the other hand, solely intended to ruin her sister's life one last time, in order to secure her company in her own smothering misery.
Even more disappointing after this showdown was Bertie of course excusing himself from their nuptial agreement, claiming that this was not due to Edith's premarital escapades but because of the lack of trust. Because of course when you first meet someone, they should know every awkward inch of your life. You should divulge every deep dark secret on the very first date (at least this is what the women I date believe), and then hope against hope that they won't run the other way at this overwhelming barrage of full-on disconcerting disclosure (I run, I run like I'm chasing the world's last Twinkie, and the Twinkie comforts me as I reflect on the disproportionate amount of crazy lesbians in California). Life in Downton and life in 1920s high class society moved faster than it does today. I agree no marriage should ever begin with such a large secret beneath the rug, but to expect total honesty from day one is unrealistic and totally unfair of Bertie. In that day and age, you're not going to blab about the illegitimate child at home until some grounding trust has been developed. So screw you, Bertie, for bailing, for crazy expectations, for trying to trek the high road when clearly you could not be trusted at all. (I have a feeling he'll be back...he better come back and make things right for the Christmas special or I'm going to drive over to Julian's house and torch his car myself.)
Tom is understandably seething with rage and finally after the years of abuse and relentless pounding Mary has given Edith, Tom tells her off. Cornering her, cutting her off, and confronting her for what she truly was, Tom, who had always tried to play the mediator, had had enough of Mary's bullying and cowardice. Mary had in fact, become a black hole, a death eater, a lost soul and a broken heart who effectively worked to drain people's happiness, Edith's happiness, in order to feed her own despair. Edith gave her a similar chat, although the most appropriate term Bitch reared its ugly head once or twice, adding a little color to her own confrontation. Slapping the icing on the cake, the Dowager sweeps in to give what for as well. But in times of utter despair, the Dowager has always given the quintessential speeches to pull Mary out of her cloud of depression and angst too, as she had done before in the aftermath of Matthew's death. Bursting through the tantrumming facade, Granny discovers the truth behind Mary's refusal of Henry and the source of her unhappy assault on everyone around her. It was not the money, it was not the position, it was the resurfacing trauma of losing Matthew, the pure devastation we had shared with Mary three seasons ago. Refusing to be a "crash widow" once more, Mary's shattered heart revealed itself, but with a few words of encouragement, Granny set her on the right path back to Henry's arms.
After a tearful rendezvous with Matthew's grave, begging for a posthumous blessing, Mary meets with Henry and they make up, trembling at the touch of each other's hands, though Mary, in an effort to preserve Henry's love of racing never truly reveals her preceding apprehension. Oddly enough, once the engagement is in place Henry reports he has in his possession a marriage license that he had presumptuously secured when he last visited Downton (cue the WTF moment of the evening). The two are set to marry in a matter of days, and surprisingly Edith travels down for the wedding to make amends. Sharing in what all siblings fear in the passage of time, Edith foreshadows the day when all that will be left of the Crawley family and its memories will be the two surviving sisters. They can revive these moments together or let them dwindle like the falling embers of a dying fire. The olive branch was extended and accepted, and it seems the war between the sisters has finally come to an end. Mary marries Henry and in a twisted turn of events, after waiting two seasons for Matthew and Mary to wed we got 20 seconds of wedding footage, and after three episodes of waiting for Mary and Henry, we got the whole shebang. Whatever, I'll take it.
I gotta say, the ups and downs and the emotional turmoil this episode required scaled and encompassed all of The Wife's talents, and I truly predict an Emmy nod again this coming year. If she wins, she'll be the first ironing board ever to accept the prestigious statuette. Seriously, who the fuck is Janet Street Porter and why is she allowed to speak? I'm a fangirl, I admit, but I don't usually shy away from speaking my mind about the show, and if I genuinely believed Michelle's performance was lacking, I'd say so. As usual, though, she was amazing in this episode and left me speechless, so suck it Porter. If any of you fans or critics cannot see the wide array of talent Michelle has offered in this show, I highly recommend you check out her appearance on Waking the Dead or her performance in Shades of Beige. Incredible in both. If you just want to see how ugly she can get, look up Fingersmith. Yikes.
Good god, that was long enough for one blog and we're nowhere near done...take a break, get a drink, and come on back. We're running a marathon here, not a sprint. Envision the Twinkie...
Though most of the drama surrounded the Crawley sisters this evening, there was more devastation downstairs as well, or rather upstairs in the servants' washroom. The stress and the isolation had been mounting in Thomas for weeks, with no friends at the abbey, a pink slip on the horizon, and ongoing residual tribulations from being permanently closeted. Coincidentally, I had posted my fears about a possible suicide attempt in a
blog on Tumblr two years ago during Season 3, after Thomas had been wrenched from the closet when he kissed James and was preparing to lose his job. After the bullying he faced in preparing to lose his job once more, Thomas followed through on my suspicions and cut his wrists in the bathtub. Luckily Baxter cues in on comments he made to Mr. Molesley and rushes back to the house in time to rescue him.
In re-reading my Tumblr post I was also surprised by the sympathy I had for Thomas and how much it has eroded in two years' time. After watching the interviews with Michelle and Rob in the preceding post here, I was given more insight into Thomas' behaviors, and understand how his rejection and stigmatization manifested itself into self-destruction and aggression towards others (as a therapist I probably should have acknowledged this sooner, but hey, when I watch Downton, I'm off the clock). I do feel for Thomas, as I know firsthand how difficult this lifestyle can be. But, I cannot excuse him completely, as I am a huge fan of personal responsibility as well. We cannot control what happens to us in our lives, the only thing we can control is how we react to it. We have all had our obstacles that we've had to overcome in our lives, god knows I have, some of which I've shared on this blog with my sexuality and my sexual assault, if only to list a few. If you let these experiences poison you, however, if you let them determine who you're going to be, then that's your choice and the results are your fault. As LG said, Thomas did not choose to be [gay]," but he did choose to be an ass. I could've been a bitch after all was said and done (sometimes I am a bitch, but usually only around special times of the month), but in the end we have to overcome. Mary too, became a bitch after the grief of losing Matthew, but the poison we carry within will only destroy us in the end, after we've destroyed our relationships as well.
Finally Downton Tidbits....Mrs. Patmore finds herself in a heap of trouble when her first guests at her bed and breakfast turn out to be two adulterers parading around as a married couple. Apparently this too was illegal back then and Mrs. Patmore becomes the center of a village scandal. Her dreams of a successful B&B wash down the drain as her business is essentially labeled a whorehouse. But never fear, the Crawleys, in their infinite philanthropy, make a public appearance at the cottage for tea and biscuits, and pose for a few photos to wash the reputation of the sapling business clean. Isobel confronts the mangy old whore regarding the wedding invitation and Larry (I became aware I misspelled Mrs. Cruikshank's name in the last blog, but I'm sticking with the mangy whore version, it's far more befitting). Isobel demands that Larry provide his blessing on the marriage or it's a no-go for the Merton union. Molesley begins teaching at the local school house, and initially is intimidated by the little scoundrels (with corporal punishment still on the books I'd be throwing apples, books, chairs to get those kids in line). As he moves on though, Molesley finds a little self-disclosure goes a long way, and the kids hone in on his naturally gifted lectures. Edith and Laura go Bananas when they meet their Cassandra Jones. Entering the office, a coy smile on her secretary's face hints that something is amiss. I immediately predicted that this columnist must be a man, but nothing could prepare me for the face behind the door, as Mrs. Denker's favorite butler Mr. Spratt rose to his feet. I literally screamed and burst out laughing. BANANAS! Best twist ever.
So we made it....there is one more episode left in a few months' time, and I'm in agony over it. Of course, there will still be moments to relive as the show airs in the US, but the final moments of Downton are on the horizon, and my heart can't take it. I mean, look what tonight's episode did to me, I was completely destroyed! The feels! Screw you Fellowes! I'm demanding restitution for the therapy I'm going to need...
