Downton Abbey Recap: We're Just Wild About Harry!
I am drunk and stoned and watching Downton Abbey on my ex-boyfriend Paul’s tv after the Super Bowl. Paul’s tv is tiny and it is foreshortening all the Downton Abbey people and making them squat and fat, and also they are green, it is hilarious. Lord Grantham is all hips, like a pretty lady. It was a pretty good Downton Abbey! I should probably watch them all drunk and high (oh wait, I already do) and also after the Super Bowl. What a fun game that was! I do not usually enjoy a blowout, but that shit was hilarious. The kicker man almost recovered a fumble! He probably could have sacked the quarterback while he was at it.
So it is Downton, and a shocking thing is occurring, and that is that Daisy doesn’t serve Carson’s toast first, and instead serves the First Toast to Alfred. Carson is all like DAISY WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS and she is all like I LOVE ALFRED AND HE IS STAYING AND I’M THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE WHOLE USA. But Downton is now being written and edited by cracked-out ferrets so no scene lasts longer than 19 seconds and now it is time for a new scene, and that scene is …
Lady Mary is all up in Anna’s biz, in her concerned supercilious drawl, which is distinguishable from her unconcerned supercilious drawl because it is directed toward Anna, for whom she has admiration if not actual affection. (It’s so hard to tell if Lady Mary feels actual “affection” toward anyone, but if she did, Anna would probably be in line to earn some.) Anna doesn’t care to enlighten her about what sort of BRUTAL RAPE might have been making her act uncharacteristically frigid and unsmiley, as if she were Lady Mary herself.
Lord Grantham, Rose and Branson discuss breeds of pigs, cool scene bros.
Baxter hears that Rose and Cora are discussing who among the servants can best help Rose with a Plot. My, aren’t we plotting!
The dowager is now chasing after the missing knife, still, and firing Mrs. Crawley’s pet gardener, still. This will be the whole season, except we thought Carson’s longlost ladylove Alice was going to be the whole season too, until he mercifully stopped yammering about her. Maybe she will come back again later. Can never get too much of Carson opening his mouthhole.
Mary: “Will you really go to America?”
Branson: “Don’t worry. I won’t go until the pig business is up and running.” No, THIS will be the whole season!
Papa Legba Thomas comes to extract his innocent soul secret from Baxter.
The secret Baxter is thisclose to stumbling on is Rose planning a jazz band for his lordship’s birthday. Mrs. Hughes is a bit pissy about the fact she is supposed to hide, feed, and bed the band, or at least find beds for them, and really why is she talking to Rose with that tone? A fine state of affairs it is when a housekeeper can make so free with the gentry. Perhaps she is ESPing Mr. Jack Ross, at your service, and how he will be a person of color and what is Yorkshire even coming to. Mrs. Hughes’s ESP is pretty much the entire rightwing on Twitter.
Thomas tries to intimidate Hughes out of coughing up the secret party. This is not subtle, Thomas, or Lord Fellowes. Come now, he is craftier than that. We could have axed this scene just fine, and spent the time on the pigs if we had to.
That’ll do, Pig. That’ll do.
Aw fuck it, let’s have just a bit more.
Why are we watching anything that isn’t Babe, anyway? Just Babe recaps from here on out. YOU’RE WELCOME AMERICA.
Mrs. Crawley faces off with the dowager over the fired gardener and the case of the missing priceless Japanese netsuke. How could you fire a servant over missing priceless treasures? she bitchfaces at the dowager. What is a bit of stealing between friends? Mrs. Crawley seems to be taking an unproductive tack with this. The netsuke turns up in a cleaning lady’s cleaning bucket. How embarrassing. As is this scene. It is too bad to see these proper dames separate again when their friendship — like Fiona Goode and Marie Laveau’s — seemed to be taking root. But shit happens and sometimes old ladies get on each other’s last fucking chin hair.
Lady Edith looks like shit — Paul’s teevee adds on 15 pounds of womb to everyone, it’s so bizarre — and Mr. Gregson has disappeared into thin air. Also, did I mention that she is green?
Oh shit, Alfred’s going off to
war the Ritz after all. Will Daisy murder him? She should, that would be something. Oh, no, she will just project her anger onto Ivy instead. That seems more productive.
Alfred thanks the Crawleys and Granthams for having been so good to him. They demur, nobly, before the scene moves on to Lord Grantham’s jovial lack of surprise over his birthday dinner. Aha but the negro jazz band will still be a surprise, and it’s a good thing he insists on still getting more surprises, because Rose carrying on with (dancing with and or greeting like an actual human being) the colored bandleader is going to be about as much as he can take. OR IS IT? There is just no way we will ever know.
Carson says a bitchy thing about Mrs Patmore having a human female reaction to Rudolph Valentino, because she is old and disgusting and possibly even past menopause burn her.
Everyone: Alfred is leaving, sweet let’s hire Molesley!
Carson: Fuck that whiny carping bitch, with the whining and the carping.
Everyone: But his life’s been so hard.
Carson: Whining bitch says what? No thank you, but also I am going to put it in the stuffiest snobbiest most anti-worker way possible instead of what it should be which is fuck that guy he sucks.
Thomas is pressuring Baxter for more info on the party, under the misapprehension that there are layoffs coming. If that was in any way a thing that could have been misinterpreted, Three’s Company-style, from the bits of info to which he was privy, then I was too high to notice it.
Alfred leaves and is all btw Daisy I will never love you, so she is really nice to him in return, because it’s not like he is Ivy.
Mrs. Crawley comes to the dowager’s to spy up all in her shit and find the missing letterknife, because time for capers. She sits on it in the chair. So now the precious priceless netsuke has been found and so has the precious priceless letterknife. Will the dowager be a total b about it anyway? SUSPENSE.
Sweet, Molesley is here to see Carson with a big fake shit grin to “confirm [his] willingness to return to Downton.” Carson is correct, that is not enthusiastic. Good day Mr. Molesley. He said good day!
Mrs. Crawley’s up in the dowager’s grill, all, when you gonna stop bein a mean old bitch and realize “Peg” didn’t jack your shit, biddy, and the dowager’s all jesus shut up once in a while and you’d fucking see I already hired him back christ, but she says it better and more dowagery.
Peg removes his boots and comes in his socks into the drawing room and is all oh yeah that lady not only offered me my job back but also said she was sorry for unjustly accusing me and also asked my forgiveness, so this will probably be when Mrs. Crawley doesn’t crawl away with her tail between her legs but instead is like LOOK AT ME RIGHT ALL ALONG, right? Like, she is usually cool, but maybe assumes some judgey shit from her high horse and is a right tool about it.
Oh, nope, this is her response: “Well.” A++ response, Mrs. Crawley, just right.
Carson brainfarted and forgot Alfred was leaving when he gave Jimmy the night off. They all look expectantly at Thomas, oh yeah, HE’S gonna help footman, did you not know he is an UNDERBUTLER NOW? (Apparently an underbutler does not actually do anything at all, judging by what we’ve seen in the past four — four? — episodes.) Shall Hughes call Mr. Molesley? JESUS SHUT UP ABOUT HIRING MOLESLEY, HUGHES. Carson’s all FUCK THAT, BE A FOOTMAN THOMAS.
Anna and Bates’s big night out is put to the test by a dick maitre d’ who’s like NO RESTAURANT FOR YOU because the Countess of Grantham has a huge party there and then Cora’s all like what, smile, surely you have a table for my friends, and dick maitre d’s like, you mean these people who claim an acquaintance with you? and then she has him executed, for dick.
Oh yup whichever commenter suspected EDITH PREGNANT hit it. Whoops. Now she will have to buy some Girl Scout cookies to go with her bortion.
Molesley shows up to whine, because that is way more important than EDITH BEING SCHWANGER WITH THE MISSING NAZI’S KIND. Julian Fellowes should take a screenwriting class about dramatic stakes. The guys from Coven can teach it.
Jimmy tries to hump on Ivy, all but baby I treat you so nice and she is all eat me no don’t.
Ivy gets some tea and sympathy about her total sex assault by Jimmy from Hughes and Patmore but Daisy is ridiculous and blames her for driving Alfred away by not loving him, because Daisy would have been sooooo much more happy if Ivy had loved him instead and she could have seen the two blissfully in love in the servants hall for eternity.
Ivy: huh whut?
Hughes, with the bitch, to Ivy: I’d say it’s about what you’ve had coming.
What even the fuck, Mrs. Hughes?
Baxter finally gets a gossip scalp for Thomas, hearing Mary and Cora tsking over Anna and Bates.
Grantham: Sup, Edith?
Edith: WHO SAID I WAS PREGNANT?
Hahahaha, Mary and Cora are greeting Napier and his pally Blake, who are here to study the problems agriculturally and economically with the estates. But they’re there to study whether the food supplies are in danger, not necessarily to figure out how to help the estates. “So you’re not here to help the owners? You just care about the food supply? Doesn’t that seem mean-spirited?” asks Mary, with no idea of irony, because it would be another 70 years before Gen X invented it. Oh baby. Mary is a bitch to Blake, so they will marry by season’s end.
Molesley is there to serve the servants tea, to prove he has no dignity. Carson can’t stand it for even 10 seconds, so he hires Molesley, because after all serving the servants’ tea is scullery maids’ work, and Molesley is a man and Carson can’t see anyone debase themselves so. Go die, Molesley.
Rose comes down all ayo here’s some negro jazz musicians and everyone’s all sweet we are very cosmopolitan oh wait did you not tell us they were negros needle scratch.
A nice scene with Mrs. Crawley, Mary and Branson, reminiscing on being sick in love with their respective dead spouses. Well, says Mrs. Crawley with a bright determined smile, aren’t we the lucky ones. I like that. I like an optimist’s outlook, and #blessing-counting instead of slights. Fucking sue me.
Molesley is serving like a common footman and the dowager condescends to take notice. Is he glad to be back? she deigns to ask him, with the kind smile she for some unknown fucking reason always gifts him with. Glad? He is more surprised, really. And he guesses he’ll be called, doleful shudder, Joseph now. Fuck this guy with a red hot poker.
Now the band is on and Rose is so very pleased and Grantham is eyebrowing and Cora’s all totally fine with it because obviously America land of the equal, and Edith’s gross and worried about the appropriateness of letting Man Josephine Baker in the house even as an entertainer, and the dowager’s totally cool, all, “we country dwellers must beware of being provincial, try and let your time in London rub off on you a little more.” Mary doesn’t even notice, she’s so wrapped up with still fighting with Blake, her beloved “traitor” and “enemy.”
The band is playing “I’m Just Wild About Harry,” about the least shocking “jazz” ever, as they all waltz, clunkily, to it, which is rad. But even so the dowager is awesome. Jazz? Oh, is that what that is? Do you think any of them have any idea what the others are playing?
Blake thinks Mary “doesn’t deserve to survive.” Man, these guys cannot be more obvious.
“Harold” is coming into our lives, after his deep hole problem with the senator. Cora’s brother?
Mary sees Rose macking on Jack Ross in the servants hall. She totally keeps her cool because of her poison vagina from season one.
Good job, Mary.