It is 1918 and evidently everyone’s gotten into the swing of running a convalescent home, because there’s no more kvetching or eye-rolling coming from the Crawley gang. Lady Edith has found her stride. She’s putting on a concert and wants archenemy Mary to participate. This is a little like Michele Bachman and Obama doing a karaoke version of Love Will Keep Us Together. Cora approves: “Keeping their spirits up is part of the cure and it’s so little to ask.” Oh, Edith, I’m so proud you stopped macking on other women’s men and began doing your own thing, bubbeleh! And instead of pursuing some fad like, oh, making furniture out of discarded suitcases and selling it on Etsy, you are serving humanity. Maybe you’ll find a good-looking, albeit not entirely able-bodied, soldier to keep you warm at night.
SPOILERS AFTER THE CUT—!!!
And who else has become a regular bossypants but Lady Cora! I LIKE it, although it’s rubbing Isobel the wrong way, especially the fact that Cora had the gall to change the dining room schedule so that the servants wouldn’t faint from hunger pangs. Well, Isobel is not having it! Time for a smackdown. Isobel decides to go the manipulative route and bursts into Cora’s room to threaten her with leaving if they don’t go back to her rules: “Of course, it would be foolish enough to accuse you of being unprofessional, since you never had a profession in your life!” Really, what’s come over Isobel? She makes Bismarck look like a doormat. Unruffled, Cora will not be manipulated, and just keeps writing whatever it is she’s writing. I hope she’s drawing up her shit list. If Cora ever offered a course at The Learning Annex titled “How To Deal With Difficult People While Working on Your Penmanship”, I’d be the first to sign up. Since she can’t bully Cora, Isobel decides she’s going to run away! She’s going to go to France to work with the Red Cross. So there. Way to cut off your nose to spite your face there, Isobel. Or, in this case, way to get your whole head shot off to spite your face.
And who else is intent on keeping the soldiers’ spirit up, but gingerheaded Ethel? From the way she tucks soldier Errol Flynn’s blanket, she has a peculiar take on this. I don’t have HD TV but I swear I saw his little soldier standing at attention.
Lady Vi is a bulldog at heart. Once she gets something into her head, she won’t let it go, no matter what. And as much as it took her to warm up to Matthew, she is now this close to hawking “Mary hearts Matthew” t-shirts on Cafepress. She has a little talk with Mary so as to dissuade her from marrying that vulgar vulgarian, Sir Richard: “And this is your beau, is it? A man who lends money and then uses it to blackmail the recipient?!” Mary’s unperturbed. Well, at least he has a hobby. Mary is going to marry Sir Richard, particularly since he’s going to make a killing after the war is over. Lady Vi is appalled – and frankly, so am I–, and exclaims: “And you can dance on the grave of a fallen family!” And from the way Mary responds, you can tell she’s already coming up with colors for the cemetery shindig. Seeing that Mary won’t budge, Lady Vi asks about Sybil. This is the first time anyone’s mentioned Sibyl’s prospects. She’s appalled that Sybil’s not following in her mincing minx steps: “I had a whole series of crushes at her age!” Lady Vi’s not buying it. She must be getting some action somewhere, particularly since there’s a war going on: “War breaks down barriers, and when peace re-erects them, it’s very easy to find oneself on the wrong side.” Lady Vi must’ve noticed Branson’s buns, cause she’s not referring to the Berlin Wall.
Mary poo poos the whole idea of Sybil having a fancy man. I love that expression, by the way. Call a guy a fancy man and he just might show up in a top hat on your next date. Of course, no sooner does Mary roll her eyes at the idea, that she chances upon her baby sis and Branson.
Sybil is disappointed he didn’t join the uprising in Dublin last Easter. Branson is sticking around until Sybil decides to run away with him. Ah, Bran, it is always a bad idea to toss asides one’s interests in order to win someone’s heart. It comes across as desperate. Don’t you know women like bad boys? Even cutie pies with schmattes on their heads? Sybil is shocked. Branson tells her to stop kidding herself, she knows she’s in love with him. When I was young I would’ve swooned. Now that I’m a cougar, though, I’m all, “Hold up. Don’t flatter yourself.” But before I can text that to Sybil, Mary busts up the little love chat and orders the “motor”.
Sir Richard has written the Earl a letter and asked him for Mary’s hand in marriage. The hopeless vulgarian had already proposed to Mary and was only really calling to keep the Earl in the loop. The Earl is a wee bit appalled that Mary is marrying for money. Mary retorts: “What were your motives when you married Maman?” Which is really cheeky, as the Brits say. On the other hand, it couldn’t have been hard to fall for a young Cora. She may be American, but she’s a class act through and through. Unlike Sir Richard who, let’s be honest, acts like Trump minus the Hair Club for Men membership. The Earl asks, What about Matthew? Mary answers: “What must he do to convince you that he’s in love with Lavinia? Open her chest and carve his name on her heart?” This is the second time I’ve heard Mary use that imagery. If I were Lavinia, that’d be my cue to lock away the Ginzu knives. Or whatever nifty cutting implements they sell on late night TV these days. The Earl insists that Mary write to Matthew to tell him about her plans with Carlisle.
Later she stops by Sybil’s room to ask her what she and Branson were talking about. Oh, Mary. For someone who keeps so many secrets, you sure are nosey. Sybil won’t spill, and wants to know what Mary was doing there. “To order a motor. That is why one talks to chauffeurs.” Ah! Very high and mighty for a woman who is marrying a nouveau riche extortionist, and is secretly in love with a bougie arriviste. Seriously, though, why is everyone picking on Sybil? Can’t a girl plan chaining herself to Parliament’s gates without everyone barging in? No wonder she gets cranky: “Am I to see if Sir Richard Carlisle has a younger brother? One who is even richer than he is?!”
During a ciggie break, O’Brien and Thomas gossip about the fact that Bates is working in a “public house” in town. O’Brien and Thomas have done more to discredit smoking than all public service announcements combined. Daisy overhears their gossip, but puts on her “What me? Eavesdropping” face. That never works for me.
In the meantime, you know who’s bored by all this going off to war business? Mrs. Crawley’s servants, that’s who. Now they have nothing to do all day. And at that very moment a starving soldier shows up. Without knocking! Lucky this isn’t Texas, where they don’t cotton to home invaders. Anyway, Mrs. Bird, the cook, is all ready to throw him out, but Molesley softens up. They feed him.
In the meantime, Matthew and William, who is now his servant-soldier, decide they’re tired of the trenches and go on a reconnaissance mission. The German soldiers see them and… that’s the last we see of them. Am I the only one who keeps expecting Black Adder to show up in the trenches? Just checking.
Still bored, Molesley shows up at Downton and Carson puts him to work. Daisy worries about William because he didn’t come home when he was supposed to be on leave. Also, by the way, did anyone know that Bates was in town working at a public house, because that’s what she overheard Thomas say. Carson runs upstairs and tells the Earl. From the way they pronounce “public house”, you’d think Bates bought himself a hot pink leather suit, and is out pimping whores. Can’t you just picture him with a feather sticking out of his fedora? The Earl then tells Anna. This sure is one snitching bunch.
You know who’s no longer bored, but overworked? Mrs. Crawley’s cook, that’s who. The fact that she fed a soldier went viral and next thing you know she’s opening a soup kitchen.
Mrs. Patmore and Daisy go for a stroll to take a break from feeding all those soldiers. Ah, it’s so good to get away from it all, even if it’s the town square instead of Club Med. But, wait, what’s this line rounding the block? Is it the next Star Wars? How many more sequels are they going to make of that? Well, Mrs. Patmore has gotten the nosey virus down at Downton, so she must investigate. And next thing you know, she’s rolling up her sleeves and feeding hungry soldiers on her break from rolling up her sleeves and cooking for hungry soldiers.
At dinner, Lady Vi is all up in Sybil’s business, asking about “appropriate friendships”. Sybil looks puzzled. Did Granny overhear her singing “I Kissed a Girl” while bathing? Good God! Is there no privacy in this house? But Sybil keeps her cool. Sybil shoots Mary a look. And Lady Vi cannot pursue her line of questioning because she’s interrupted by the arrival of another barrage of soldiers: “It’s like living in a second-rate hotel, where the guests just keep arriving and no one seems to leave.” That’s no second-rate hotel, Lady Vi. That’s a movie by Buñuel.
Daisy asks Edith to find out about William’s whereabouts since he didn’t come home for his leave. Edith promptly talks to her Papa, who is connected because he finds out right away that Matthew and William went on patrol and gone missing. He asks Edith to promise not to tell anyone. You all know how likely that is in this house.
Molesley has been having a grand old time working at Downton. On his way out, Mrs. Hughes mentions that she and Carson like his work, and might he sub as the Earl’s valet? Molesley looks happy, and tips Mrs. Hughes off that an officer was by the main staircase. She goes to investigate and hears giggling behind closed doors. And, wham, she opens it and who should she catch partaking in a post-coital smoke? Ethel and pseudo Errol Flynn! Errol Flynn must go at it like a Viking because the room is a disaster area – furniture upside down and strewn about in pieces, there are sheets everywhere… Good Lord, how could anyone sleep through that? Nevertheless, Ethel looks shocked at getting caught. Mrs. Hughes runs the officer off and fires her on the spot.
The Earl goes to Bates’ pub to make amends. He apologizes and mentions: “Carson says your wife has made all sorts of threats”. He then wants to know what the tale was, but Bate demurs. When will the Earl discover Mary’s secret? Something tells me Carlisle will find out first and then blackmail her for… Well, I don’t know what he’ll ask for exchange since Mary has no money and is already going to marry him. Maybe that she dress like a cheerleader? Anyway, upshot: the Earl lets Bates in on all the Downton dope, and asks him to come back.
Anna finds Ethel packing. She tells her she’s been fired. Anna immediately tries to bat for her girlfriend. Too bad she doesn’t know the whole story. Not that I’m not sympathetic to Ethel’s plight. Officer Errol Flynn is fine, even with the silly little mustache.
In the meantime, Daisy has learned that William is missing. Mrs. Hughes comforts her, telling her that she shouldn’t worry. It could mean lots of things. “Or that he might be dead,” says O’Brien. Why, thank you, Mary Sunshine. Poor Daisy. She doesn’t want William to die, but she doesn’t want him to come back and marry him. Dating sucks.
Mary finally wears down Sybil. She threatens to tell on Branson, and makes Sybil promise she won’t do anything stupid. Like run away with him.
Bates didn’t even give the pub boss two weeks’ notice because he’s back! Just in time to see Thomas boss everyone around. Grr. Thomas sucks. That’s my incisive insight for the week. O’Brien threatens Bates: “Watch it, Mr. Bates”. There must be something about Bates that brings out the evil bitch in her, because no sooner is she back that she tattles on Mrs. Patmore to Cora. She accuses them of stealing food. This must’ve been a huge offense back in the day because everyone is a little obsessed about it. Really, haven’t we all swiped a DingDong at least once? Cora looks angry and asks O’Brien to alert her next time.
Branson won’t let up on the romance with Sybil. Why won’t she elope with him? Sybil mentions that she’s got important work to do, and Branson comes back with: “Bringing hot drinks to a lot of randy officers?” I am no longer a Branson fan. He might be a revolutionary, but he deserves a smack in the face for that comment.
Bates and Anna are having a much sweeter time of it. She says she’s ready to give him anything. Hint hint. Come on now, Anna. Men hate it when women throw themselves at them. He says that they must be patient.
In a strange bout of sisterliness, Edith tells Mary Matthew’s missing: “I’m not trying to upset you, truly.” Mary replies: “For once in my life I believe you.” Then she runs to her room for a cry.
True to her word, O’Brien gets Cora’s ass down to the make-shift soup kitchen. Cora demands to know whose food they’re serving. Mrs. Patmore answers that they haven’t been stealing from the Grantham pantry, it’s all goverment issue. Those poor soldiers must be starving if they’re lining up for Spam. Then Cora demands that they serve from their private pantry or they’ll get in trouble with the army. And before you know, she and O’Brien are doling out food themselves! Go, Cora!
The Earl finally tells Cora that Matthew is missing. Mary appears. Doesn’t anybody knock around here? She looks very upset and wonders what’s the point of the concert. The Earl tells her: “We have to help each other to keep going.” So off she goes to sing one of the top ten hits of 1918, “If You Were The Only Girl In The World”. Come on, don’t tell me you don’t bounce in your seat every time you hear it.
Edith accompanies Mary on the piano. What better way to make sure someone doesn’t stab you in the back than to have them keep their hands busy? But Edith seems to be turning over a new leaf. Everyone but Lady Vi sings along with Mary. And all of a sudden, Matthew and William show up and everything stops. I thought Mary was going to run into his arms. I know I would if I had been worried about the dude I loved and he turned up safe. But the again, I am not known for my sang-froid, like Mary. I mean, this is a woman who routinely talks about cutting people’s chests open and carving names on their hearts. Anyway, they do talk after the concert, but more like two old friends. Sigh.
Mrs. Hughes has a surprise guest of her own: Ethel. She balefully asks for Mrs. Hughes. Yup. She’s pregnant.
Until next week, dear hearts! In the meantime, I shall be busy being a woman, and as contrary as I choose.
“It’s like living in a second-rate hotel, where the guests just keep arriving and no one seems to leave.” That’s no second-rate hotel, Lady Vi. That’s a movie by Buñuel.
No, it’s the Hotel Calfornia.
I never remember song lyrics. Lucky thing, too, I have a terrible voice.
What’s wrong with Isobel? Bad writing. Last series she was well-mannered if a bit of a do-gooder. This season, she’s a bitch. And not in the sweet-faced passive aggressive mode that Cora’s mastered. What exactly happened in those Two Missing Years between series? Besides the War….
Oh, and the Easter Rising. Don’t go looking to Lord Fellowes for history lessons–it lasted more like six days than the six weeks we heard in the show.
Why did Matthew pop by Downton Abbey–up in Yorkshire–on his way from the Front to London? To see his Mom–who’d left for France in the first scene?
And why does Lord Grantham persist in wearing the uniform? He has no right to do so. Must he be the noble dullard who doesn’t want to get to the bottom of the Looming Scandal?
Sorry–I liked the show pretty well in the first series but it’s gotten sloppy…
I agree, notBridget. Definitely sloppy writing, although I think this particular episode was better than the 2nd.
Sloppy writing and a plot agenda, seems like. OTOH, people do get drunk with power. Isobel was pleasant and a strong advocate for people, and then she got power, and people started listening to her, and she turned into a brat. Not unknown in human history.
Matthew gets more leave than any soldier ever and it’s stupid–as stupid as rehiring Thomas. BUT it seems like Isobel left in a huff and Matthew might not have known she was gone.
Grantham does have the right to the uniform, even though it’s just an honorary title.
Good point about people getting drunk with power. You have made me reconsider this, especially given that Isobel was already leaning toward bossiness.
But we never SAW her getting drunk. She was a bit of a do-gooder in the first series, but was quite polite.
Perhaps all this happened in the two years Lord Julian decided to skip…
Actually, Lord Grantham must wear the uniform. Even if he is not going to war, he is part of the army. Besides he looks gorgeous, so you won’t see me complaining about that.
He does look quite yummy, doesn’t he? I think Hugh Bonneville is total cutie.
Most definitely
I believe he’s Lord Lieutenant of the county, in charge of the military defense of York. Things being what they are, he inspects the same battery on the coast every fortnight and waits for a Zeppelin raid. It’s like command of the defense of Oregon in WW2.
On the other boards no one’s ever figured out why he’s been shunted to such a backwater. Bonneville is 48–not much of a standard for reckoning character age, but all we have–and men that age served on active duty in France, even in the front lines. (Kevin Doyle, btw, is 50–I thought Molseley looked a little old to be worrying about a draft that ended at age 41.)
It would be amusing to think that buried in the storyline is the fact that he’s really not that good a soldier, and they buried him in Yorkshire to save lives. Haven’t seen many of his neighbors around either–are they at the front while he’s defending Ripon?
Patton was moved to tears when he visited field hospitals and saw the wounded men; Grantham has a tantrum when he has to give up his dining room to them.
Really interesting stuff, Steve.
I THOUGHT Molesley looked too old to be drafted, what the hell.
I think you’re too hard on Isobel. It wouldn’t have killed Cora to, you know, *talk* to her about matters. I think Cora will find out it isn’t as easy as all that….otherwise, good round up;)
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.
Just wanted to say…I work for PBS and have been enjoying your recaps immensely — thorough, accurate, and lots of fun (okay…”cheeky”). Thanks for some terrific entertainment!
I’ve been wondering how Lord Grantham could have allowed Thomas anywhere near the house — much less running it! — after he was caught stealing red-handed last season. I can only think he must never told Cora about it, which seems unlikely to me considering they’ve shared plenty of pillow talk about other matters. Strange.
And poor Molesley can’t seem to catch a break — I felt sorry for him, having purchased a fancy new shoehorn for the Master, only to be ceremoniously dumped when Bates returned. Poor guy.
Thank you, Tajma!! So glad you’re enjoying them.
I too gave Bates the hairy eye when he grabbed poor Molesley’s shoehorn. And I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Lord Grantham allowed Thomas back into his house and in charge, no less. Why wouldn’t he tell Cora? That just makes no sense.
Thomas had been wounded (by his own “hand” practically, but nobody knows that) fighting for King and Country, so Lord G. would have been willing to cut him some slack, I imagine. That’s the only thing I can come up with.
Nice try. I don’t know. I think Fellowes got lazy. He could’ve come up with something better, no?
I thought Thomas was lucky he didn’t end up shot for desertion by deliberately getting wounded out of the war.
You know, if you’ve seen A Very Long Engagement, you see this wave of people with hand injuries being shot for desertion. And there was even one who was legitimately injured in the hand, but, according to that movie, it was such a common way to self-injure in order to get out that it was treated instantly with suspicion. Of course, the movie was in the fantastic style of Jean-Pierre Jeunet, so I’m not sure if that’s factual at all.
Good point, MissDisco. And, Deborah, throughout the first episode of DA, I kept thinking about that movie. Fabulous depiction of the trenches, aside from it being a terrific flick. I wish I’d seen it in the theater. Also, isn’t it cool to see Jodie Foster speaking French?
Re Jodie Foster speaking French, I believe she attended the Lycee in Los Angeles, which is a private French speaking school.
“She accuses them of stealing food. This must’ve been a huge offense back in the day because everyone is a little obsessed about it.”
Fun Fact: There’s this documentary inspired by Downton Abby called Secrets of the Manor House that explains how the Edwardian aristocracy actually spent more on food than on their servants’ salaries each month. According to the Daily Mail, the leftovers alone from a regular 10-course meal could cost 10 times a maids annual salary in those days. In 1917-1918, I believe there was also a war-related scare that food would run out in Britain, so presumably it was even more important to stockpile food at this time.
Given all that, I think you’re right, Marly: It must’ve been a huge offense to steal food.
Secrets of the Manor House Video
Daily Mail Article
I’ll have to check that out later. Thanks!
Given those recipes, it explains why so many of the servants lived into their 80′s, while the masters nearly all had their hearts explode by 60.
the only character development that’s enjoyable in season two is Edith, who seems to have had a transplant with Isobel. I liked her getting the credit for helping the convalescents in the house — she does seem very ignored in the plot.
Branson — yeah, he’s so angry at the treatment of the Irish but not so much that he doesn’t think that he could find an irish sybil — seriously, does he not think that taking Sybil to Ireland to join the rebel’s cause might be a bit awkward?
No kidding. Oh, yeah, I’m a revolutionary. With a British rose as a wife. Righto.
I totally agree on Edith. There’s something very likable about her, in spite of her backstabby sister ways. Maybe because she’s so vulnerable in her malice?
I like many of the actors, but I think Edith has a wonderfully subtle way of playing scenes. Very fine acting, in my opinion. Did you notice that Farmer Drake was the guy Isobel saved in Season 1? (Someone else discovered this, not me.) He got that thing shoved into his heart and … lived! At least, we all think it’s the same guy. At first, I thought the Drakes were sister/brother, because it didn’t seem possible for Edith to fall for a married man. Kind of a strange plot twist (like many this season). Julian needs a helper next year.
Laura Carmichael is the name of the actress who plays Lady Sybil, and I agree that her acting is what makes this character so much more nuanced.
Poor Mrs. Drake. She stood by her husband only for him to turn out to be such an ungrateful so-and-so. Yeah, I thought Lady Edith would’ve had more scruples. But she’s desperate, I guess. Why hasn’t she been flirting with any of the soldiers, I wonder. Maybe she and pseudo Errol Flynn will start something. Then she’ll discover his love child. Why won’t Fellowes hire me?
Actually, Laura Carmichael plays Lady Edith Crawley to perfection.
Sorry, my mistake. I wrote Lady Sybil but meant Lady Edith. Doh!
Terence Rattigan is enjoying a revival in Britain, now that the Angry Young Men have gone their course. He’s intensely English, and his best plays incorporated something noted here: “Reviewing a revival at the National Theatre in 1994, The Times wrote: ‘The cruel inequalities of love always absorbed Rattigan; …” That pretty much sums up Edith so far, and I think most of us have been on the short end of that equation more than the other. Mary may be the hero, but Edith is you.
The set up for Matthew’s return was brilliantly, comically handled. Just when I thought Mary would rush into his arms, he casually joins in with the song. Such fun! I can wait for their inevitable declarations of love.
They have got to do a special all-musical Downton episode! Please, for the fans! Who wouldn’t want to see Carson in a duet with Mrs. Hughes? He does have some song and dance experience.
Beth, I think we should write it. Someone will have to dress up as Edith and accompany me on the piano.
O my God:
http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:0-8t2eCm208J:www.shoppbs.org/family/index.jsp%3FcategoryId%3D12294581+&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us
So far all we have been told on screen is that Robert, the Earl of Grantham, served in “The Africa War” at the turn of the century where he met Bates. I do not recall it being specific that Bates was the “servant soldier” to Robert, who certainly was an officer.
In a previous comment it was mentioned that Julian Fellows is not writing a history lesson. Still, he seems to be far less obsessive about accuracy on Downton Abbey than just a few years ago when he wrote Gosford Park.
In Gosford, Lady Sylvia and both her sisters are the daughters of an impoverished earl. For some reason their aunt, played by Maggie Smith, is the widow of another earl. The oldest sister is called “Lady Sylvia” by virtue of being married to a knight. Her younger sister is called “Lady Stockbridge” because she is married to a baron. Their youngest sister is not called “Lady” because her husband is not a knight or baron.
Yet in Downton Abbey, all three daughters of the Earl of Grantham are constantly called “Lady Mary” or “Lady Edith” or “Lady Sybil” except when Sgt Thomas calls her “Nurse Crawley”
Okay, since when are daughters and younger sons of earls called “Lady” or “Lord”? This is true if their father was a duke, but traditionally daughters of earls and barons, was well as such younger sons, are called “Honorable”
Another thing, at least from 1900 to the end of WWII, in the UK military, the enlisted servant to an officer was commonly called a “bat man” or “batman”
Did I somehow miss the memo from Julian Fellows explaining all this?
Hey C Carroll, thanks for your comments. I personally wish Fellowes would hew to the history. It’s such a fascinating time period, why not jump off of that, ya know?
I didn’t know anything about how young noble females were supposed to be addressed. I thought boys were addressed as Masters up until a certain age.
I’m working on the telegram to Fellowes as we speak.
Hi Marly,
While composing that telegram to Julian Fellows, could you ask if he decided to what is commonly called “The Boer War” or “The Second Boer War” of 1899 to 1902 as “The Africa War” to avoid offending someone?
My understanding is that the term “Master” was used for boys who had not yet reached puberty. However, the oldest son of a duke was called “Viscount” from birth, while his younger brothers and all sisters would be Lord or Lady from birth.
In the many Lord Peter Wimsey novels and stories, he is the second and youngest son of the Duke of Denver. His older brother, Gerald Wimsey, has inherited the title “Duke of Denver” before the start of the first such novel. They have a much younger sister, Lady Mary Wimsey. Gerald is married to Helen, who is called “The Duchess of Denver”. Although the Lord Peter novels span the time from 1920 to 1938, the son of Gerald and Helen never is mentioned as an adult. In the early novels that child is called “The Viscount Saint George” and by his nickname “Pickled Gherkins”
If I had to pick a nickname from an array of condiments, Pickled Gherkins would definitely be my monicker. Mustard Marly just won’t cut it, I don’t think.
I am taking notes on everything you ask, and composing that telegram to Fellowes. I shall relay his response as soon as I get it.
I now remember that I read somewhere that Master was used for boys under the age of 8. That’s the kind of thing that would go to any kid’s head, don’t you think?
I grew up in a blue-collar family in the American Midwest in the 40s and 50s and we were taught in school that a letter to a young girl addressed her as “miss *****” and a letter to a young boy addressed him as “master ****.”
Those truly were the olden days.
Actually The earl and cora have a conversation and cora says something like “i’m sure that war creates very strong bonds, even with a servent soldier.” which one would take as implication that bates was that servant.
Yes, a batman was a servant-soldier (as was Bates to the Earl, back in the Boer Woer. As in the 1967 hit single by Whistling Jack Smith: “I was Kaiser Bill’s Batman”. Last song I ever knew by a whistler that charted. The writing has indeed become damnably strained. Those Tories do have a way of mailing it in. Still, I’ll keep watching–it’s just too delish, and I need something to tide me over until Don & Peggy get back.
C&C and Everyone,
My father was recruited as a USA army surgeon in 1915, days after he graduated from his surgical residency. That October the USA Army Medical Corps decided that they should send a team of physicians to France to learn everything possible about then modern combat surgery and medicine. Dad was the youngest such surgeon selected, but he had by far the most recent training and was the only one intending to specialize in chest surgery. Mind you, this was years before chest surgery was recognized as a specialty.
The week before that group of Army doctors were scheduled to sail for France and England, Dad was assigned a servant named Robert Mills, which even the USA Army called a batman. In the months leading to the first USA ground troops arriving in France in 1917 Dad made sure Robert was trained as what today is termed a surgical technician as well as a nurse anesthetist. Again that was a long time before the specialty of anesthesiology was recognized.
Not unlike Robert, the Early of Grantley and John Bates, my Dad and Robert Mills remained a team until Dad retired as a professor of chest surgery in 1954. Of course Robert Mills never was accused of a crime and remained happily married to a good woman, very much like Anna, from his return from France in 1922 until his death in 1967, a year after my Dad passed away. Robert managed the logistics of Dad’s surgical practice, making sure the correct instruments were sent to the appropriate operating rooms and then were correctly cleaned and sterilized. As late as 1954 Robert scrubbed in along side Dad several times a week. While Dad was training surgeons, for many years Robert trained excellent scrub and circulating nurses.
So, you can see I have a soft spot in my heart for the bond between Robert Crawley and John Bates. I dare say Julian Fellows is doing his best to portray the Earl and Bates relationship as going beyond the more traditional one of master and valet.
I am not so sure Fellows ever met a former batman who bonded with an officer under combat conditions and then remain in service with that officer for years and years. I do know Dad could and did dress himself, even when my Mom had a ladies maid. Robert Mills did select younger men who made sure Dad’s clothing was dry cleaned and pressed, but those men came to our home briefly each day. As I grew up occasionally I would ask Robert how to tie my tie, and he would patiently answer without ever indicating I was insulting him by asking the question. I always felt that Robert dressed even better than did my Dad.
Thank you, C Carroll for that wonderful story! If you write a book based on your Dad, let us know. I’d love to read it.
You’d enjoy the interplay between Candy and Murdoch in “The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp”.
That is one of the few Michael Powell films that I have yet to see. Maybe I’ll get to it today. It’s a perfect rainy movie day in NYC.
The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp” was shown this January on TCM in the USA, uncut and commercial free.
It’s also on Netflix streaming. At least it was when I put it in my queue. I hope the streaming hasn’t expired.
Great recap. Hurry up with Episode 4 already!
Also — perhaps a correction. I heard “the maid’s staircase,” not “the main staircase” (re: Ethel’s officer hookup sneaking upstairs). Maid makes more sense than main in this context, surely.
Thanks for the correction and the anticipation, jzzy. Do you mind if I call you jzzy for short? I seem to have a bit of hearing loss. I wish I were kidding, but I get more evidence of it daily. Sigh.
Time to update Ep 4 was two days ago.
Thank you.
I’m very flattered by the anticipation, guys! But all recaps are posted on Wednesday mornings. Your patience is appreciated.
Worth the wait. Jzzy is fine. Not sure why I had to put my birth year into my screen name. Dumb!
With you on the hearing. The first time I saw Gosford Park I missed perhaps 1/3 of the dialogue, there was so much of that Robert Altman-style overtalking and mumbling. I bought the DVD and watched with the subtitles. We now do that with most DVDs. Husband & I also watched the Sherlock Holmes rerun right after DA and kept asking each other, “What? What did he say? Hunh? Oh whatever.” Fortunately with Sherlock it doesn’t matter all that much. But I hate to miss even a word of DA.
Just between you and me and the walls, sometimes the British accent sounds very closed mouth to me. That’s my story. I don’t think it’s solely my hearing.