If you are convinced of nothing else by Masterpiece Theatre's"Downton Abbey," let that one thing be Maggie Smith's amazing acting abilities.
The former Harry Potter Transfiguration professor's portrayal of the uppity Dowager Countess is infused with a playful irreverence better suited to an Oscar Wilde play than a stuffy PBS period drama — her presence keeps "Downton" from slipping into Masterpiece's typically dour territory, as she rattles off such quips as: "Of course it would happen to a foreigner. No Englishman would dream of dying in someone else's house!" and "What is a ‘weekend'?"
The plot of "Downton" follows the posh Crawley family inhabiting the eponymous estate as it grapples with the loss of their heir apparent in the sinking of the Titanic. The Crawley family must make room for the new successor: a conveniently handsome third cousin. Thank goodness they happen to have three conveniently beautiful daughters to contend for him! While all this may sound like a half-baked Jane Austen novel, the redeeming aspect to "Downton" is its exhibition of the estate's servants. The show ingeniously splits its time between the prosperous Lords and Ladies and their dalliances with the hired help.
In the second season, though, the show has run into a rather unavoidable chronological conundrum: World War I. Suddenly, the high and mighty must fight alongside their plebeian staff, shifting the class structures of England until the ostentatious lifestyle of the show cannot logically exist. This is reminiscent of the hurdle "Mad Men" had to jump when the show reached 1963; no longer able to ignore the period's tensions in such a seminal year, the drama was forced to tackle themes with which it had never set out to contend. If "Downton" can come even close to matching the success of "Mad Men," then the show's cultural shift should prove intriguing.
Conversely, "Downton" could simply continue on as a thinly veiled soap opera, with a deceptive veneer of class and top hats. Last Sunday's episode had an engagement broken, a man paralyzed from the waist down, a surprise pregnancy and a possible heir returned from the dead. All this takes place over a span of two years, or it would be almost unbelievable. Actually, if "Downton" did have to abide by "real time," it would be two hours of women gossiping about gardens and criticizing their tea. Never has any viewer been more grateful to live in the 21st century.
Hence the reason for America's newfound obsession with the British period drama: not only are viewers shown a world that no longer exists and will certainly never exist again, but we are also exposed to the post-Edwardian era with an approach that has rarely been attempted before. This is no ordinary Masterpiece Classic — the audience is far removed from the stuffy days of "Brideshead Revisited" (1981). While both feature exquisite aesthetic details, "Downton" feeds into that fascination woefully middle-class Americans have always harbored — the perplexing relationship between master and servant.
"Downton" sheds light on the nuances and complexities of an inherently bizarre union, and one comes to understand how, strangely enough, both classes can love and depend on each other. On the other hand, they can also despise each other to mutual ruin. Basically, this is the same spiel that had the masses flocking to "The Help" (2011) last summer.
Having said that, the show is much better than the average soap, in part due to its historical views on class and status. While the ethics of these Edwardian snobs are still relevant in a post-WWI England, what will happen to these ideals in the 1920s? When will the Lost Generation emerge? How will "Downton" make the shift from Edith Wharton to Evelyn Waugh?
