I am not a member of the English aristocracy. I don’t know anything about throwing society parties in my family’s generations-old ballroom, or hunting for dinner with reckless abandon for animal welfare. Given that, Downton Abbey is not a likely contender for my favourite TV show of all time.
And yet, it is my favourite TV show of all time.
Don’t Judge A Show By Its Netflix Icon
At first glance, you could easily dismiss Downton as a five season, highfalutin jaunt through the stuffy lives of the English elite – and in a way, you’d be right. Our main characters are the Crawley family, after all. They live in a miniature castle, have more staff than a Ritz-Carlton at peak season and spend their days papering themselves in lavish locations up and down the UK. We couldn’t be farther from real life.
So, why watch fifty-two episodes and two feature films about Lord Grantham, lovingly flanked by his American wife Cora and chalk and cheese daughters Mary and Edith doing some blue-blooded shootin’ and fishin’? The simple answer is, we wouldn’t, and mastermind writer/creator Julian Fellows knows it.
Character Is King
In the opening minutes of episode one, we’re introduced to the Crawleys. Not through grand spectacle, but through tragedy. It’s 1912, the Titanic hit an iceberg, killing Lord Graham’s only known heir. Now the family is in a tailspin: who on Earth will take over? The goings-on downstairs are more subtle, as Lord Grantham’s new valet, Mr Bates, begins his duties at the house. He’s a stoic war veteran who is quickly targeted by Thomas and O’Brian, a cunning duo of troublemakers who want nothing more than to ruin him.
Right away, Downton Abbey has a lot to keep track of. Throughout Mr Bates’ first day, we meet the characters who will define the show. Led by the obsessive butler Mr Carson and no-nonsense housekeeper Mrs Hughes, the staff are the centre of the story. Be it the dedicated cook Mrs Patmore, who suddenly goes blind whilst making a seriously important dinner, or housemaid Anna helping Lady Mary smuggle a dead body out of her bedroom (oh, the scandal!), it’s the trials and tribulations of these characters that keep us hooked.
Mr Bates taps into the essence of what moves us as an audience, and the agony of his story basically blackmails us into watching more. Lady Mary is another matter. She is aloof and detached, unwilling to entertain the new heir to the Downton fortune – a pre-Hollywood Dan Stevens playing Mathew Crawley – as her husband. We shouldn’t like her. The constant scrapes with her sister Edith really show Mary to be a conniving and jealous instigator, but much like her fathers signature generously, she can be unbelievably kind. So, it’s torture to watch her fall in love with Mathew, but never quite commit until the final hour.
But What Makes It Comforting?
A big part of why I connect with Downton Abbey is because it’s a constructive show rather than destructive. We follow people of various classes building their lives and rebuilding them as needed, and it is genuinely uplifting when it all works out. Of course, when a beloved character’s fate doesn’t go as planned – no spoilers, but nothing stays rosy in Yorkshire for long – it’s all the more heart-breaking for it.
Much like those early Harry Potter films, everything in Downton Abbey is bathed in a magnificent orange glow. Nothing feels more warm or inviting than the Christmas specials. Between prison scandals and family bombshells, the Crawleys and their staff always find time to gather round the fire as one; and I never fail to feel part of the family.
In a way, Downton is the ultimate escape. Far from being another serial killer story, or packed with bombastic set pieces and flashy gimmicks, Julian Fellows’ world is enchanting and delightful. Even if you’re not a fan of period pieces about old money toffs, there’s something universal about Downton. It’s like a good winter blanket. Always there when you need it, and perfect for getting you nice and cosy.
Author: Oliver Guild
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