Downton Abbey

You might wonder why someone would want to write about Downton Abbey, three years after the final episode aired.  But it’s still out there to watch, endlessly repeated on ITV Encore or available to stream.  I defy anyone not to be charmed by its, er, well, charms.  What’s not to love?  Everything about it, from the setting to the storylines, harks back to a golden age that nostalgic baby boomers just can’t get enough of, because, as people get older, they can’t help but feel the past was better.  Of course, this isn’t the case.  They simply prefer a time when they were younger.

Dissecting Downton Abbey for examination makes it all the more surprising that its success was never expected by ITV.  Julian Fellowes’ deft screenplays and detailed character creations apparently didn’t seem enough on paper.  But scheduling it for 9pm Sunday nights, the latest possible hour for people planning to go bed at a sensible hour before the start of the working week, had to be a cynical move to strike at viewers at their most vulnerable.  Inevitably, fans of the show compared its bygone values to an impending Monday morning of emails, passive aggression and conference calls, and understandably couldn’t get enough of the world of Downton.

Following the X Factor Results shows, it was even more obvious by contrast alone that this was the perfect antidote to average-looking and sounding teenagers who “just really, really want it,” giving us 1910s heroes who knew their place and weren’t afraid of a bit of bloody hard work.  But that was its beauty.  Pop your phone away in a different room to avoid second screening, and surrender yourself as soon as the opening credits roll with their non-threatening music to a good hour of the televisual equivalent of a cuddle with your old nan.

Even among jaded office workers in the media industry, it became essential viewing.  One colleague, prone to misnaming things, couldn’t stop calling it Downtown Abbey.  This alternative show, with visions of drive-by shootings and the Dowager Countess pimping out the scullery maids, had the potential to be as entertaining as the real one.

Initially bundled up in their Drama package, ITV soon realised the show’s potential for standalone sponsorship with a price tag in the millions.  The show even travelled well, picking up awards in the US, where viewers probably thought it was reality TV.  As a result, their demand for episodes increased and the need for storylines placed a strain on the show, resorting to tragic scenes that ended up ruining a few Christmas afternoons.

But as drama, and as period drama, it was rather exquisite.  What’s more, it played to our moral sensitivities.  We knew which characters were good as, like us, they had liberal responses to things such as extra-marital sex, political activism, women’s rights, ethnic minorities, homosexuality etc.  Ultimately, a crueller age was presented through a lens that wouldn’t upset the modern palate, thereby throwing all historical accuracy out of the window and onto the well-manicured lawns.  This therefore moves Downton into the spectrum of fantasy drama, which is why it is still to be recommended as a way to escape reality.