Excellent recap in the New York Times. Some highlights:
I have to say Edith was not acting prudently given all that she knows about how mean Mary can be, which is not to say she deserves it, but you could see it coming a mile away. It was like seeing Edith of the first season – her character back then seemed to be written intentionally as a person who was such a snivelly sad sack that she made for an irresistible target.
I also wish Robert and Cora were more direct with Mary, so many times they sit there looking mildly shocked when she says something awful. Especially since so often it is their other daughter who is Mary’s target.
How fast did they get married, anyway? Did anything in the show let us know how much time passed?
The only thing I can think for poor Edith is if Mary goes to meet with Bertie and admits flat out that she has been bullying and gaslighting poor Edith for years, to the point where Edith literally wasn’t capable of doing the right thing in the moment regarding Marigold.
As much as I get that the plot is supposed to be that Mary secretly loves the car guy, what’s his name, Henry … I shared her annoyance that Tom (who is one of my favorite characters on the show and I usually like him) kept brow-beating her over it. Sometimes you have to let people make their own mistakes, and this particular plot story – a romance – got me het up even more because it seemed extra distasteful that the men in her life were going behind her back to disregard her decisions, like they were brokering a marriage bed. Especially since there have been a few times when Tom would say something like “I’ve said my piece, I’m done now” and then he was NEVER DONE. I would have been more on board with Tom’s constant pushing back over an estate management issue.
All of my frustrations aside, I was so emotional when Mary asked Edith why she came back for the wedding, and Edith said it was because someday they would be the only people who remembered Sybil.
IIRC, the previous eve, Mary had blurted out something tactless like, “So, are you 2 going to get engaged?” You make a good point that, after that, Edith was foolish thinking Mary wouldn’t go total bitch, and that Edith would be able to keep it quiet.
I think the driver said he had a license - and a preacher - in his pocket, and suggested they get married that weekend. Which led the old lady to ask when that would be!
Now I really love your suggestion, that Mary earn some redemption by helping Edith out. I wish you were writing this dreck instead of that other Fellow(es).
I assume that the story would detail how he was found dead in the bathhouse with a painting palette.
I think the unnatural forcing-together of Mary and Henry — combined with their hey-I’ve-got-a-marriage-license-right-here instant wedding, which felt like something out of a '40s screwball comedy — seriously kneecaps the season, perhaps even the entire series. At the start of season six I was predicting Mary would end the show unmarried, for lots of reasons, not least is that it would be a testament to her resolve and determination to preserve her family’s birthright, which are her best qualities. Instead, in what I can only describe as a failure of nerve, Fellowes hooks her up with her Oily Driver, and does so in the worst, most TV-hack way: having all the other characters talk about how in love with him she is and how great they are together, since we certainly can’t see it for ourselves. And what a great, well-earned dramatic reversal it would have been from the opening of the series had Edith, the former “useful spinster,” been the one to get married, while status-conscious Mary chose a life as a mother and estate manager over marriage.
That whole storyline was one of the series’ most awkward contrivances. As has been remarked, “house of ill repute” is a term that was used for brothels–not for a newly-opened guesthouse with one pair of adulterous guests. That in itself was ridiculous.
But then to have virtually all the characters go into gales of laughter over the situation–‘ooh, we shouldn’t, we are being so naughty, but it’s so HILARIOUS!!!1!!!’–that made no sense at all. How was it funny? Was it a laugh riot that Mrs. Patmore had failed to demand a look at the marriage license of her guests? Was it comedy gold that her venture was in trouble? It wasn’t a case of pretension slipping on a banana peel, or any other category of humor that I can see.
It’s as if Fellowes was sticking his finger in the eye of every critic who has deplored his lack of writing skill: see, I can put onscreen this absolutely contrived and implausible situation… and my fans will love it!
It did provide a nice acting showcase for all those who were able to summon up believable guffaws; that’s the best that can be said for it.
All that said: I did think that the scene between Mary and Edith (‘we will be the only ones who will remember Sybil’) was actually well-written. So kudos there, I guess.
And he will be very well paid and can leave Violet and Denker forever. Edith and the editor mentioned that “she” would need a big raise to come to work for them.
As for Beryl (we learned Mrs. Patmore’s first name!), she was accused of running the equivalent of a “no tell motel” rather than a brothel.
Did you all notice that in the final scene, the kids were running around Sybil’s grave? I had to pause the tv to see that.
But how does that make sense? The police would have no difficulty in learning either how long the guesthouse had been open (‘just opened,’ in fact) or in examining information-dissemination means of the day (newspapers, broadsheets, and posters) for any hint that Patmore had been angling for business from adulterers.
Absent any such information, how does it make sense for her to be accused of a crime (running a house of ill repute) on the basis of one pair of guests? Has there ever been a case in the real world, outside of the skull of Fellowes, in which such a thing has happened?
What I’m saying is that the situation manufactured by Fellowes is phony and contrived. He wanted something to go wrong for Patmore that his beloved aristocrats could remedy, and this is what he came up with; it was lazy of him.
Not really arguing — once again, the Crawleys can wave their magic wand and make life for the commoners better — but Mrs. Patmore wasn’t to be accused of a crime. She was going to be called to testify in her guest’s divorce proceeding, which would a) embarrass her personally and b) cast a pall over her business. “A” seems fairly uncontroversial, and I suppose “B” is at least possible in an era when hotels still did not allow unmarried couples to share a room.
Fair enough, Nonsuch.
Now, can you explain all the fits of uncontrollable laughter? (And/or, why the situation was–supposedly–hilarious?) :dubious:
IIRC (and i didn’t like the episode enough to rewatch it), Edith kept trying to tell Bertie about Marigold - but hadn’t quite worked up the courage to do so. (I do remember her saying something like “I’m not young anymore. I’ve been in love before. Hey, look here’s Marigold.” in the same breath) I’d like to think that if given a chance, she would have told Bertie sometime before the wedding (though not necessarily right at that moment).
Mary’s still an utter bitch though. The entire business made the many many scenes of her staring off into the distance completely unsympathetic to me. I also hated that Fellowes had Edith have to come back and understand where Mary was coming from. Also, Robert and Cora are really awful parents.
Other thoughts:
Fellowes really should have had the courage to kill off Barrow. Finding him at the last second was wimpy. Also, how on earth do they think they’re going to keep that a secret. It’s a small staff and the entire upstairs knows that he tried to kill himself. It’s silly to pretend that word won’t get around.
What did happen to all of the footmen in the 1920s & 30s when they were no longer needed?
The Mrs. Patmore thing was silly. But it did give the policeman (whose name I cant remember) lines for the episode. Actually, that’s the only reason i can think of for half of the plots this season - they’ve got a police guy, they have to put him on screen for a few minutes for contract purposes, there’s no way to stretch out the Bates’s plotlines any further… so they cast about for some other reason for someone to have a run-in with the law, no matter how contrived and stupid it is.
The laughter was because of the notion that Mrs. Patmore, who is so solidly proper and upright, might be running a “no questions asked” Den of Sin on purpose. It’s because the characters know her, and know how far-fetched the idea is. They wouldn’t be laughing if it were Barrow running the Adultery Inn, because even if he claimed ignorance, they would still be wondering if maybe he did know the situation. Like if some random relative loves a pop song with explicit lyrics – maybe you think that’s just tacky, or you don’t think anything of it at all. But if your grandma starts playing this song and saying how much she loves it, you know it’s because she doesn’t understand the lyrics, and it’s hilarious.
You may be right–have to give the actor some lines (!)
And not killing off Barrow is, no doubt, intended to save Fellowes from accusations of being hateful toward gays. Barrow will live, but he won’t be happy–that’s the compromise between the conservative’s impulse to show the Wages of Sin, and a natural wish to avoid being criticized.
I really, really don’t think Julian Fellowes intended the portrayal of Barrow “to show the Wages of Sin” but rather to show how trapped he is, given the social mores. To a certain extent, I think Bertie’s cousin was intended to show how much more free a titled person was.
I agree with this. It would have been a much more elegant and appropriate ending for Mary to have stayed single and sufficient unto herself, like Athena or something.
Re the Mrs. Patmore kerfuffle- Don’t forget that back then (and not all that long ago), there was no such thing as “no-fault divorce.” Even if both people in a married couple wanted a divorce (let alone if only one of them did), one or the other of the partners had to prove or admit to adultery, and there had to be evidence. Mrs. Patmore would have been called upon to provide evidence by testifying that the couple had spent the night in her establishment together. And that would have sullied the reputation of her inn. You can’t apply modern standards/sensibilities to this.
True.
So true.
Large labor shortage at the end of WWI.
So very very true. The showrunner seems to have no idea how the Constabulary worked in that period.
I thought the “house of ill repute” thing was hilarious. But I agree the wedding seemed rushed, almost like the writers were hastily wrapping up al the story lines so the show can end.
Remember when we used to like Carson?
I found this to be a crappy episode. It’s like Fellows decided to make everyone into a cartoon character to wrap up storylines. Carson was just cruel (Hughes really shouldn’t have waved it away as “you are my curmudgeon”). And while Mary has been very mean to Edith, she’s smarter than being that obvious about it (and yes, Edith was quite dumb for poking the bear, especially after Tom tried to interject to tell Edith to knock it off).
Also I will say what in the Hell was with all the men in her life trying to browbeat Mary into marrying Henry? I mean, so Mary can’t decide for herself who she wants to marry? Tom was very quickly turning into a ridiculous person, browbeating her for not marrying (the whole cartoon villain thing again) and Henry trying to turn on the full court press was also distasteful. I mean the whole “don’t be a golddigger, Mary” was somewhat shocking considering in this season alone we’ve seen big estates being sold because the aristocrats who lived there couldn’t afford it. It makes perfect sense that Mary may consider marrying someone who could actually bring some money for some financial security for Downton, and especially her son.
And what we’ve all been yelling since Henry came onto the scene finally was aired out loud - Mary’s husband died of a CAR CRASH. Marrying someone that likes to race cars seems like a highway to constant PTSD. Makes total sense right? But then the Dowager says love is super important, and then that realistic concern just disappears?! Wait… what?!
And the weirdest thing is, it already came out several episodes ago. Mary told Henry that she hates cars because her husband died in a car crash, and Henry revealed he already knew. I mean, I guess she didn’t actually go so far as to say, “… and therefore I am reluctant to become involved with you lest you, too, die in a car crash,” but it was pretty obvious, no?
To which he rejoined that she routinely rides in cars, not horse-carriages. To which I would add that Mary engages in the dangerous (no fiery petrol but broken bones up to vital ones like the skull or neck) sport of steeplechase. She’s as likely to wipe out in front of her assembled family and seemingly half the county as [del]Talbot[/del] Talbot’s pal at Brooklands.
And that fits with Tom’s remark (that Mary eventually took to heart) about finding a love-match who’s her equal not in $ or rank but personality. Talbot’s that guy. She admitted as much when, even while dumping him, she made it clear she didn’t expect him to give up car racing. No more than if someone asked her (though nobody in her family would :)) she’d give up steeplechase.
The family browbeating Mary about Talbot was irritating, but IMHO it was explained well at the end by Edith. Everyone kept saying she’d be unhappy without Talbot, but only Edith said the rest of that sentiment: and when Mary’s unhappy, she’s an ironclad bitch to be around. 