Historical Fantasy in “Downton Abbey”

“Downton Abbey” premiered as a self-contained miniseries in 2010. At the time, it comprised seven episodes exploring the lives of the Crawley family in Yorkshire England for two years between 1912 and 1914. The miniseries soon became a critically acclaimed, Emmy winning, series running through until 2015. And last week, four years after the series’ end, the “Downton Abbey” film premiered, tracing a few days in the lives of the same family, and its servants, in 1927. “Downton Abbey”, the film, is an extension of the series – the ethos, the politics, the themes, are all an extension of that show. It is foolish to approach the film expecting anything different, and yet, the natural development of the series’ own conservative ideology seems incredibly pointed in 2019. As if, when condensed to a mere two hours rather than a 10-hour long season, the nuance of writer Julian Fellowes’ historical lark becomes less amusing and more uncomfortable.

The central plot in “Downton Abbey”, that juggles almost a dozen storylines, is that King George and Queen Mary will be visiting Downton Abbey and the house – upstairs and downstairs – is thrown into a frenzy in preparation for the visit. “Downton Abbey” has always been most charming for the way it zeroes in on the way incidental occurrences can be life-changing for persons living lives of isolation. For a servant, the difference between two types of serving dishes can turn into a crucible of character development. The focus on minutiae has also tended to work because of the series’ own self-referential amusement at its self.

Before “Downton Abbey”, Fellowes was most notable for writing the script for Robert Altman’s excellent “Gosford Park”, a 1930s murder-mystery set in a northern English country-estate. The similarities to “Downton Abbey” have always been pertinent, but where “Gosford Park” was cynical and arch, “Downton Abbey” has always been placid and congenial. The chasm between upstairs and downstairs has always been more necessary and noble than anything for the series, which has always been uncomfortable with revealing issues of the class system. To look at the lives of the gentry in 1912 is one thing but as “Downton Abbey” progresses, drawing closer to World War II and the imminent political changes in 1927, the film cannot help but feel at odds with the world it’s representing, and with the world it’s being released in. It’s mere coincidence that the film’s release coincided with a week of chaos in British politics as Prime Minister Johnson’s own myopia about class issues revealed itself. But, surely, the winsome “Downton Abbey” – a world where the heroic servants are happy to only serve, and any indication of removing class distinctions is met with resentment and censure – can’t be held to these contemporary benchmarks?

“Downton Abbey” benefits from a cast that has spent almost a decade honing their respective roles, able to convey emotional changes with a glance or the shift of the head. And the film’s aesthetics reveal a production team with keen awareness of just how sumptuous this world is. The film’s technical marvels are more to be found in its excellent costuming and design, than its editing (unusually choppy and truncated in some sequences, as if uncertain how to distil these conflicting storylines into two hours), but “Downton Abbey” almost always look pretty enough to be diverting. But, what intrigues, and it’s where the “Gosford Park” comparisons seem especially apt, is that director Michael Engler or cinematographer Ben Smithard are never interested in interrogating the film’s own text. There is no ironic subversion of camera where the script’s conventionality is critiqued by a questioning camera. And, the very-serious focus on the solemn and the regal fail to create any playfulness or humour even if we are expected to take the film seriously.

When the servants of “Downton Abbey” engage in a petty battle with the staff of the King and Queen, desperate to have their dream of serving the King and Queen of England come to fruition, it’s difficult to be amused by the silliness of this plot both because everything is being shot so seriously, and the script unrepentantly expects us to cheer on these characters who seem to have so little value for their own self-worth. Sure, this is a fantasy historical tale of beautiful, rich people living in an era gone-by but what’s so baffling about Fellowes’ work in “Downton Abbey” is the way he invokes so many real-world issues (colonialism’s imminent end, the 1926 General Strike, the Irish fight for independence) only to scoff and dismiss them as mere blights for our rich heroes. Maybe he means for this to be ironic, but nothing in the direction suggests subversion so we are left with a film that seems amusingly out of touch with what it’s saying or how it’s saying it. 

But must we always go to the movies for politics and socio-cultural criticism? “Downton Abbey” is offering us adult-drama with charming characters. Imelda Staunton arrives as a new addition to the cast and out-acts everyone in a sliver of a role with an emotional centre. Maggie Smith remains reliable at delivering witty quips and Rob James-Collier’s Thomas Barrow manages to be the most compelling servant character through his sheer ability to pack a wealth of emotions into a suppressed grimace. This is all very pleasant stuff. It’s warm and well-intended and sometimes even sweet. But, it’s not especially good and sometimes not very thoughtful. It is, instead, exactly what you’d expect from a “Downton Abbey” movie, which is enough to indicate whether you’d like it or not.