Downton Abbey The Morning After: Going to the Chapel, Going to Get Married

Spoilers aplenty follow . . .

Mostly concerning the unbearable pitifulness of being Edith

Before we get to the exercise in sadism that was Lady "Poor" Edith's "wedding," let's spend some time on Matthew. It seems that self-righteousness is genetically coextensive with bright blue eyes. He's still refusing to accept St. Lavinia's Dad's money.

Oh, enough already.

Thank God he didn't have any former awkward break-ups with a member of the Crawley family, or I guess he would have had to turn down Downton Abbey as well. He's so wracked with guilt, he refuses to open the letter Lavinia Pater sent to him, so Mary, does so herself. Like a normal person. And of course, Lavinia Sr. has managed to somehow predict all of Matthew's objections and refute them, point by point, like a dead, rich, captain of the debate team. So everything's fine now? Right?

Wrong. Matthew doesn't believe Lavinia sent the letter as she was expiring from the Spanish flu. (Which, incidentally, I watched a documentary about yesterday--did you know it originated in Kansas? Me either.) So Mary has to track down a witness. She should talk to Anna for tips. And speaking of downstairs, Daisy sent the letter, which she tells Mary in a rather anti-climactic way: "Oh, it was me." And now Downton is saved! Surprising no one!

Meanwhile, Lady Edith is getting married to the one-armed geriatric bandit! Nothing good can come of this. After some awkward sexual innuendos between Vi and Syb, and some even more awkward sexual innuendos between Vi and the priest (!), it's time for the wedding!

:)

 Except, not.

:(

By and through very publicly sharing information that would have been really good for Edith to know YESTERDAY, Sir Robert confesses that he can't go through with the wedding, and doom Edith to a life as a nursemaid. Despite the fact that such a life (rich, independent, with a man she presumably loves) seems okay by Edith, everyone is sort of relieved.

Except, you know, Edith.

Poor Edith, however, aggressively skulks about the house, throwing her jilting in everyone's face, rather like an Edwardian Carrie Bradshaw from the Sex and the City movie.

As for downstairs? O'Brien and Thomas amp up their rivalry over some missing shirts (seems rather petty in light of the above, but whatever), and Thomas instrumentalizes the hapless Mr. Moseley to spread a rumor of O'Brien's departure.

The face of a woman who just got played.

Hopefully this is leading somewhere much nastier.

O'Brien seems to promise it will.

Speaking of nasty, Mrs. Hughes's lump isn't! And Carson is thrilled. And it's very sweet.

As to Anna and Batesie, the former keeps looking for evidence to exonerate her husband, and the latter keeps managing prison like a boss. His traitorous cellie plants what looks like, but probably is not, an exploding cigar in Bates's bunk, but he's tipped off at the last minute. It's sort of like the prison version of stolen shirts.

I can't find a picture of the thing, so this still of Bates looking cagey will have to suffice.

So there you have it. Downton will be saved (and Matthew will be a full partner, whatever that means), keeping safe a place where Edith can be pitiful, Thomas can be snake-like, and Vi can be sassy. All is right with the world. For now . . .

Downton Abbey The Morning After: Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

Break out the sherry, Downton's back!

At least that's what Matthew might say when a possible inheritance nearly derails his long, LONG, awaited nuptials to Lady Mary in last night's Downton Abbey series 3 premiere. See, Robert has made some bad investments and won't be able to keep Downton. Coincidentally (very coincidentally), Matthew might be coming into some big bank from St. Lavinia's father, which he feels weird about taking since he, you know, dumped her and all. Thankfully Mary's tendency to be self-centered and stubborn and Matthew's tendency to be self-righteous and stubborn didn't prevent all us Downtonophiles from reveling in a proper Edwardian wedding,

Yay!

and some not-so-proper Edwardian honeymooning afterwards. Though it must be awkward to enjoy the first months of your connubial bliss in your parent's house (and I said "ew" out loud when Matthew slyly shared with Lord Robert that his "eyes had been opened" after the honeymoon), thank you, show, for acknowledging that people did, in fact, have sex in the early twentieth century. Even in England.

The other long-awaited event in series 3 is the arrival of Shirley Maclaine as the crass American with all the cash. I must say, I only liked Martha in so much as it gave the irrepressible, incomparable, Maggie Smith's Dowager Countess a chance not to like her. And I so love when Vi doesn't like things. Like weekends. And how Branson dresses for dinner. Otherwise, Martha's character seemed like they couldn't decide whether to go for full-on campy or not.

Though this outfit and pose seems to place her firmly in the "camp" camp.

Speaking of Branson, it was lovely to see him and a preggers Sybil back for the wedding. And if you're wondering if marriage has cooled his fiery political passions, let me assure you, it has not.

And Edith. Oh Edith. Now the only virginal Grantham in the family, she continues to be a source of incredible pathos, though now that she seems utterly de-fanged by romantic disappointment, she's pretty much 100% pathetic, and will heretofore be referred to as "Poor Edith."

As for downstairs . . . Batesey remains incarcerated in what amounts to a pretty fabulous episode of Lockup: Downton Abbey. He practically shanked his unpleasant cellmate!

He could totally make that into a shiv.

And Anna continues to try to clear his name, which makes her the star of a pretty fabulous episode of CSI: Downton Abbey. Daisy does her best impression of Bartleby the Kitchen Maid out of frustration at her inability to advance in the servant hierarchy, and Thomas and O'Brien are BFFs no longer! O'Brien's is now more concerned with the fate of her tall nephew, Alfred.

We'll have to keep an eye on Mrs. Hughes's cancer scare and Edith's designs on the one-armed Sir Anthony!

Poor Edith.

Downton Abbey: Christmas in February

Doesn't have quite the same ring as Christmas in July, but we take what we can get on this side of the pond. By the by, I've noticed some DA backlash on the Interwebs lately, so let me just say, I'm still a true believer. Slamming Downton because it has soap operatic elements (Matthew's miraculous healing, everyone keeling over from the Spanish Flu during one dinner party) seems to be a way of re-establishing the sort of high art/low dichotomous hierarchy (either of art, or of class) that the show's premise and plots are committed to blurring, and ultimately, obliterating. My piece being said, on to the merry recap!

The Twilight Saga: Matthew and Richard. The two spend most of the first half of the episode snapping at each other over Lady Mary. Richard is jealous and irritating, and Matthew, though still annoyingly guilt-ridden over St. Lavinia, doesn't want the woman he still loves anywhere near vile Richard. It even erupts into a thoroughly enjoyable upper-class fistfight between two men who have no idea how to throw a punch.

Don't close your eyes, darling.

Mary also finally discloses the details of the unfortunate Mr. Pamouk's death to Mattie, and it's worth it just to see his baby blues bug out at the word "lust."

Hit the road, Jack. Or vile Richard, as the case may be. When Cora lets the Turkish delight story out of the bag to Robert, he nonetheless gives Mary his permission (and practically his demand) that she cut the cad loose. The Dowager Countess has never been so happy!

She loathes him.

Her line of the night: "Life is a game in which the player is made to feel ridiculous," was aimed right at him.

Mary makes plans to flee to America to spend time with her must-be-less-awesome-by-comparison grandmother to ride out the scandal vile Richard promises to deliver.

Law and Order: York. Batesie's murder trial is consuming the hearts and minds of most of the household during this episode. Mrs. Hughes, Odious O'Brien, and His Lordship are all called as witnesses . . . for the prosecution. Seems they all overheard Bates making threats and/or infelicitous remarks about his wife in the days leading up to her untimely demise. In the absence of any other suspects, Bates gets sentenced . . . to death! Nooooo!!

I told you to stop talking!

Don't mess with Isis. Meanwhile, Thomas the snake, smelling an opportunity, tries to ingratiate himself with Lord Robert and slide into Bates's vacant valet position. When O'Brien suggests hiding something of the Earl's and then returning it to him, Thomas's eye lands on . . . Isis! He locks her up on the estate, and totally bungles the rescue. Luckily, Isis is safely returned, because I never would have been able to forgive him if anything had happened to the dog.

The only face of which I'm more fond than this one . . .

is this one.

WTF, show! As it turns out, Brybil's wedding took place in Dublin off-stage! Unjust! And Sybil is also pregnant, prompting Cora to urge Robert to thaw relations between the family and their black sheep. Also, Edith's old boyfriend is back. Whatevs.

Paranormal activity. They've got an effing ouija board downstairs. Mrs. Patmore, who has about had it with Daisy's refusal to spend time with her father-in-law, takes a seat and quite unconvincingly fakes a message from William which sends Daisy to the family farm. William's father as good as adopts her, and gives her the courage and confidence to ask for more responsibilities in the kitchen. It's sweet.

It's a Festivus miracle! part 1. Thanks to the best lawyering old money can buy, Batesie's sentence is commuted to life in prison! Huzzah? At the very least, it buys them more time to find the real killer (perhaps they should ask OJ to help?) and convinces Anna to stay at Downton rather than travel to America with Mary.

It's a Festivus miracle! part 2. At the servant's ball,

which is basically fanfic come to life,

Matthew, after some straight talk from Isobel, realizes that it's RIDICULOUS not to act on his feelings for Mary just because St. Lavinia died from the Spanish Flu. In a scene I desperately needed, he proposes, on one knee, basically in a snow globe.

It OWNED.

In a bit of a cheesy turn, Anna and Daisy had just received a ouija-gram from a spirit in the house that a couple that truly loved each other should be happy.

I choose to believe the message came from Mr. Pamouk.

All in all, I was utterly satisfied. I'm certain that series 3 will bring more obstacles that keep Matthew and Mary apart, but for now, I'm enjoying the moment.

Downton Abbey: In Sickness and In Health, Part 2

Happy Valentine's Day to all my fellow Downtoholics.

In the second hour of Sunday's episode, two romantic things happened, one of which was ruined, and the rest of the story is mostly concerned with things like inquests and hemorrhages. Happy Valentine's Day indeed.

No one expects the Spanish Flu. During one ill-favored (heh) dinner party, Cora, Lavinia, and Carson are all struck by the post-WWI pandemic. We shall track their progress through the course of the hour. Moseley gave us all a scare, but it turns out he was just drunk.

Next time I'm drunk, I'm going to tell everyone I have the Spanish Flu.

Brybil goes public. Branson and Lady Sybil announce their intentions to marry, and everyone loses it, both upstairs and down. Perhaps declaring your plans to be a journalist isn't the best strategy in a house currently dealing with Vile Sir Richard.

But the suit was a nice touch.

The Earl calling the Lady inappropriate. It's a little hard to be moved by Robert's indignant horror at his daughter's romance with the chauffeur when he's been snogging the housemaid. After an epic cockblock by Batesie,

Dude!

Lord Crawley sends Jane on her way, and, in a move that proves to me that he's read Howards End, understands the connection between his illicit feelings for Jane and his daughter's love for Branson, and gives them his blessing.

I could have danced all night! Romantic moment #1! Lady Mary and Matthew dance downstairs, and blue-eyed Mattie manages to make the line "you are my stick" sound sexy. He also admits that he'd rather marry her than Lavinia. Well, naturally.

And they kiss! Squeal!

Tommy on the spot. With Carson out of commission and his own savings depleted, Thomas does what he does best: take advantage of the situation. He campaigns for footman of the year in an attempt to reinstate himself at the Abbey. I am for this.

Wasn't even an important storyline--it's just an excuse for me to post this picture again.

These are my confessions, part 1. As Cora worsens, O'Brien packs her bags for a guilt trip. She's ruing soaping the floor and causing the Lady's miscarriage, as I would hope she would, and just about tells her so.

Though she probably wouldn't have appreciated the significance of the admission at this particular time.

These are my confessions, part 2. Freaking Lavinia overheard Mary and Matthew's conversation and saw the kiss, and proceeds to climb up on her big wooden cross and offers to give him up if that's what he wants. Then, though she appears to be improving, she dies.

Well played, Lavinia. Well played.

I will never forgive her for this, as Matthew convinces himself that the cause of her demise is not Spanish Flu but a broken heart, and he will therefore never allow himself to love Mary, as they are "cursed." Bah.

He's getting married in the morning! Anna makes like Lady Sybil and strikes a blow for feminism, proposing to Batesie. They get married in Romantic Moment #2! Jane and Mary arrange for them to have a proper honeymoon night upstairs,

Very happy for them.

Which should give them both many lovely memories to cherish while Bates rots in jail. You see, he gets arrested for his wife's murder the next morning. Bummer.

Dowager Countess Quote of the Night: If you're a singleton like me this Valentine's Day, and feeling, like Lady Edith, a little lonely and unlovable, Vi has some words of wisdom:
"Don't be defeatist dear, it's very middle-class."

Lady's got a point.

So if you're not lucky enough to be in love today, may next year's Valentine's Day find you as as hopeful as Branson and Sybil, as passionate as Matthew and Mary, and as committed as Batesie and Anna.

Downton Abbey: In Sickness and In Health, Part 1

Forgive the "part 1." I watched Breaking Dawn: Part One this weekend, and can't break the habit. But the two-hour penultimate episode of series 2 deserves some fanfare, yes? On to the goings on in hour one. It's 1919 and the division between upstairs and down has never been more fubar.

Spoiler free thumbnail.

Who let Oral Roberts in the building?
Well, I suppose we should have all seen this coming. Matthew's "permanent paralysis" ended up being, well, neither. All it took was a fumbled tea tray to get Old Blue Eyes up and walking.

This scene made my cousin laugh out loud. I'm with him.

And I think we've officially entered soap opera land.

Hot for housemaid. Well, the platonic heart-to-hearts and idle flirtations between His Lordship and Jane just got a little less platonic and idle. Robert Crawley planted one on his newest housemaid but good. The war has left him feeling worthless and emasculated, so he responds by snapping at his wife and snogging the help.

Because he couldn't buy a sports car.

"Estranged wife suicide . . . don't do it." Ten points to Gryffindor if you got that '80s movie reference. In any case, did Mrs. Bates do it? Her untimely death has been ruled self-inflicted, but Batesie reveals that he purchased the rat poison that finished her off, and there are those unexplained scratches . . .

Freaking unexplained scratches ruin everything.

Anna encourages him to inform the police, because she's a good person. And we all know what happens to them.

Sweetheart, I think you should look worried.

Speaking of Anna . . .  Vile Sir Richard tries to bribe her to report on Lady Mary's comings and goings. She does the right thing and informs Mrs. Hughes and Carson, because that's what she does, and we are left more sure than ever that Mary and Matthew belong together. Even Carson bails on working for Mary and Richard because the latter is so distasteful. Lavinia is doing her part to delay their unholy alliance by cutting in line for her own wedding, wanting to marry at Downton when Matthew "can walk down the aisle." Barf.

God, how I hope vile Sir Richard is paying her off.

Which brings us to . . .

Dowager Countess Quote of the Week: "Marriage is a long business."

And that would be her judgmental expression, aka, her default expression.

Well said, Vi. Mary, Matthew, and, sadly, Branson, would be right to listen to you.

Hot for Chauffeur. Or is she? Though I've been waiting for the Sybil/Branson (Brybil? Sybson?) romance to take off for ages, I was left a bit unsatisfied at its progression. Though she does touch his face and run away with him, she seems to be doing so for all the wrong reasons.

Face touching? Hot.

"I want out and you're my ticket"? Not hot.

Mary and Edith save her reputation from an ignominious elopement, and though she promises to return to Tommy when her parents approve, I am now officially in the "he deserves better" camp.

Gratuitous Thomas Pic. Thomas the Snake has got himself snookered by a black market proprietor of sub-par foodstuffs, and he leaves the episode bankrupt and broken. But I'm really just grateful for any excuse to post this picture of what he looks like when he's not a conniving former footman.

Me-ow.

 Thanks to Nat and Bill for the link.

Stay tuned for part 2: The Spanish Flu. No one expects it!

The Morning After Downton Abbey: A Mysterious Visitor

Welcome back my lords and ladies, my butlers and housemaids, to Downton,where the end of a war does nothing to end the drama! Spoilers for last night's episode ahead!

The Dowager Countess, puppet master extraordinaire. Starting off with Violet, because she's my favorite. Aghast at Isobel's plans to turn the Abbey into basically a public house after the war's conclusion, she conspires with Cora to direct Mrs. Crawford's good intentions elsewhere, giving rise to Violet's quote of the week. In response to Cora's observation that Isobel insists on martyrdom she notes,
"We must tempt her with a more enticing scaffold."

That is her fabulous thinking cap.

The scaffold in question? Work with war refugees.

The Canadian Patient. The big story this week is a new addition to Downton's convalescent home, a man burned beyond recognition and boasting a shady backstory.

If it's Ralph Fiennes under there, I'm going to lose my shit.

This dude claims to be none other than Patrick, the long-lost and assumed drowned with Leo on the Titanic Grantham heir! He tells a tale of a serendipitous rescue from the freezing Atlantic waters, a bout with amnesia in Canada, and a miraculous restoration of his memories when he got blown up in battle. Edith believes him (perhaps because she was so in love with Patrick?); Mary, not so much. He disappears at the end of the episode, leaving the family (Matthew especially) unsure as to the estate's status. Me? I don't trust this ersatz Patrick.

Martyrdom must run in the family. Speaking of Matthew, he's not exactly bouncing right back from traumatic spinal injury. He mopes around Downton, never missing an opportunity to remind everyone that he will "never be a proper man."

Also, Lavinia is back. Bleh.

Engaged to the enemy. In addition to acting very new money by vowing to install central heating in his new home with Mary and trying to poach Carson, Sir Richard is also doing his best impression of Marky Mark from Fear. He offers Anna extra money to report back to him on Lady Mary's comings and goings, reveals that if Matthew weren't paralyzed and engaged he wouldn't let her "anywhere near him," brings Lavinia back to interrupt their contact, and gives Mary a very creepy "don't cross me" speech/kiss outside the kitchens.

He's about to reveal his "Lady Mary 4-Evah" tattoo.

This can't be the end of that. Batesie needs to stop talking. After his comment to his Lordship that he wishes his wife were "the late" Mrs. Bates and a last, unwitnessed, confrontation between the two, he turns up scratched and she turns up dead.

Doesn't seem suspicious AT ALL.

Baby Mama Drama. Carson catches Mrs. Hughes sneaking food to Ethel, and is pretty mean and unforgiving towards the latter.

Judge much, Cheerful Charlie?

Also, Major Bryant is . . . . DEAD.

Forbidden Love (part 1).  Is it just me, or is New Maid Jane making eyes at Lord Grantham?

She's offering more than a plate of fruit, methinks.

Forbidden Love (part 2). I suspect Lady Sybil is only toying with my working class hero Branson, but she did elicit this swoon-worthy vow from him: "I'd wait forever."

The rolled-up sleeves? Into it.

War is over, if you want it. Armistice Day is celebrated at Downton with a prayer . . . and a miracle?

Matthew might have felt a twinge. I might have felt a miraculous healing coming on.