ONE
The Downton Fair sets up in the village, introduced with a lengthy shot of the announcement poster.
TWO
Bates, Gwen, and Anna walk through the construction, excited to get a group together for the opening. Anna, seeing Lady Mary also in the square, sends the others on home. It gives the two women a chance to recap the dead-man-carry experience and share a friendly moment.
Robert at his desk, loyal dog at his feet, is ready to meet the new chauffeur. Here’s Branson! His story purpose in this episode is the “how times are changing” plot. One plotline always carries this theme.
The Dowager and Cora have tea on the lawn as they discuss Mary’s prospects. They’re not giving up. They’ll need a lawyer to fully examine this entail tangle, and Violet knows just the person.
THREE
(There is no Three.)
The moment above references Mary, the person we need at this beat. The Six makes that clear. I won’t count a discussion of Mary as the Three, though, because this scene is a Two mirror for the Eight. Mary’s trouble with the inheritance is part of the climax. It can’t play double duty as a Two and as a Three. The resolution of the entail is critical at the Eight, and this outdoor tea sets all that up. One quick little Mary moment at this beat, herself, in person, would’ve sufficed.
How very strange and disappointing. The next scene is clearly Four stuff, though, so here we are.
FOUR
At Crawley House Molesley, serving tea, inadvertently exposes some kind of hand thing — boils? a rash? — to Mrs. Crawley. She goes all nurse on him and insists he get checked.
Because the doctor is away from the hospital, though, Isabelle manages Molesley’s treatment herself. Again, she insists. Tincture and salve, here you go. Oh, and you’ll have to wear gloves. Molesley is always delicate in his reactions, even when he’s horrified.
Matthew works in his little office when the Dowager arrives. This is the lawyer she had in mind to press the case of breaking the entail: the very person who dislikes the situation yet benefits immensely from it. Two parts brilliant, one part evil. Good stuff.
An altercation between Hughes and O’Brien. Because Anna’s gone to bed with a cold, O’Brien must pick up her work by dressing the daughters. She’s ordered, otherwise she wouldn’t do it. And she won’t help Hughes spruce up her hat for the fair. I assume one of the main talents of a lady’s maid is to sew, alter, repair, and style the outfits, thus the ask.
As the Dowager presents her case to Matthew she suddenly lurches. Only Maggie Smith! So funny. It’s a swivel chair with movement that surprises her. She’s fine — “I’m a good sailor.” Matthew is stuck. He must investigate the exact terms of the entail. If he doesn’t, he looks mercenary or cold. She’s got him over a barrel and they both know it.
William asks some of the staff sitting in the kitchen if Daisy has plans for the fair. Bates tells him to ask her. When she enters, William begins but Thomas interrupts and invites her first. Just to piss off Bates. Aw, she’s so happy. This is the “O’Brien and Thomas are horrible” episode, apparently.
Cora, Sybil, and Edith are driven by Branson. It’s all innocuous — Sybil needs a new dress — but we who’ve seen the show recognize an auspicious moment. And the car is so pretty!
And now it’s evening at the fair. Carnival music and lights. Mary approaches Matthew who’s throwing a baseball at a booth. (Oops, American comment. It’s a cricket ball or somesuch.) They have a sweet moment, a connection.
In the kitchen with Daisy mooning over Thomas.
Mary at home talking to Robert. It’s the family dinner with Matthew and the Dowager coming separately. Mary contrives that the two don’t meet each other.
The fair. Mrs. Hughes is meeting a fella!
Carson, with dignity, serves Matthew and Robert in the library. What have you found? Matthew’s looked through everything, and there’s no place for a challenge.
Tea with Hughes and the man. Oh! Housekeepers and Cooks are always called missus. It doesn’t mean they were married. A little tidbit dropped: he had proposed to her at some point and been refused.
In the kitchen O’Brien berates Branson for eating with them. The former chauffeur never did that. Bates is nice to him, though.
The Dowager finds out Matthew is in the house and barges into the library.
Anna, still ill, reads in bed. A knock down the hall at the door to the women’s quarter. No one but Hughes is allowed to open that door. Aw, it’s a dinner tray with a little vase of flowers, brought to her personally by Bates.
The Dowager rails against Robert on her way to the car. He’s off to bed, wore out by her.
The fella wins Hughes a knick knack at the ring toss. As they stroll away, Thomas and the gang see them.
SWITCH
Mary learns the truth from Matthew: there’s no hope on the entail. Romantic overtones and feelings, a closeup of their hands as they shake goodbye, and he leaves.
FIVE
As Carson hands him his hat, Matthew expresses how sorry he feels. Carson is this wonderful sounding board, almost like a narrator, who listens to everyone’s complaints, bounces back what they said, and records it for posterity in the property’s bones. If the house could speak, Carson would be its voice.
Hughes returns. The fella proposed again and asked her to think about it. As she walks down the hall she looks at O’Brien at the table, mending. Unseen, she watches the staff. William has had a terrible night and Bates consoles him. After she says goodnight and leaves, Thomas passes her and prepares to whisper something vulgar to O’Brien. Out of nowhere comes Carson, “I beg your pardon?” Haha! Gulp. The entire scene is obviously a “this is what you would lose if you left Downton” argument.
In the men’s quarters Bates again tries to help William but he’s rebuffed. Thomas comes out of his room to say something snide, and Bates slams him against the wall. The intimidation doesn’t work, though. Thomas has had a night of evil triumph and is riding high.
A new day. Staff go about their business.
Mary and Robert (and dog) walk the grounds. The camera circles around them as he explains that the house is the work of a great dynasty. It’s not his right to destroy. He’s only a custodian. Money shot of the house, symmetrically framed, behind them. If you married Matthew you could stay here. Mary’s too stubborn to marry who she’s told. Plain speaking from both. However, she doesn’t seem to feel that generational pull that Robert describes. She’s a woman of no prospects, adrift, and that’s her main concern.
Branson drives Sybil through the village. He asks about the other day’s conversation. He couldn’t help overhearing. Pretty impertinent. How will Sybil take it? He focuses on women’s rights and she engages with him. He brought her pamphlets, lol! He’s a self-described socialist who won’t always be a chauffeur. This, folks, is a meet-cute.
The Dowager visits with the doctor as Isabelle and Molesley arrive. His condition is not better. Medical jargon, blah blah. Violet, who knows of Molesley’s home life, recognizes a garden allergy. It’s not some disease, but a seasonal reaction. Oh, boy, is she tickled to get one on Isabelle. Another killer Maggie scene.
Robert and Matthew, walking among the tenant properties, find peace. Matthew has accepted the inheritance and looks forward to it. Here’s someone who senses the dynasty of it all.
Daisy gushes about Thomas to Mrs. Patmore in the kitchen. She tries to explain to Daisy that Thomas is . . . well, gay, but she uses gentle euphemisms like “not the man for you”. Daisy doesn’t understand and Patmore drops the subject.
Anna’s back, dressing the daughters. Sybil starts talking to her sisters about the women’s vote.
Downstairs with the family they all talk about Matthew and his idea for the tenants. This is the first time we see Matthew as stepping into the role of patriarch of Downton.
SIX
A very strange one-quarter shot of Mary holds for a while. She goes up to bed with a headache. We know what’s going through her brain, but why wouldn’t they give us a look at her face? She’s invisible to the family (and us)? It’s a shot that popped me out of the moment, which I’m not sure is the best choice.
Aha. It’s a strong Six, thus its visual impact. But it’s awkward because it doesn’t mirror at the Three. The juxtaposition of the beats should take us to a new understanding. This one stands lonely and discontinuous.
SEVEN
Cora goes after her and finds Mary weeping in her room.
EIGHT
“Father has a son now.” You don’t care, either, because I took a lover with no thought of marriage. A Turk! (The horror — a foreigner!) Nowhere is the word “depression” used, but Mary is so clearly depressed and with much reason. Times are changing (as the women’s vote discussion shows) on the larger scene, and also in her personal life. We don’t see how she ended up engaged to her cousin, the one lost on Titanic, but the Mary of the first episode seems childish now. Her contrary nature had no object to battle like it does now. Even Kemal, acquiescing to him, seems childish compared to her pain in this moment.
A new day, and William is at the kitchen piano. We’ve seen him play before, but he’s all alone this time. Hughes comes in to cheer him up and he responds, I don’t know how this house would run without you. Well, that strikes a nerve. Long dolly out on her, which crossfades to Gwen opening a letter. We can’t tell from her reaction if it’s good news or bad.
In Sybil’s room she lets it out that the interview was cancelled and the post’s been filled. Sybil encourages her to keep trying.
NINE
Carson pops his head into Hughes’ room and she invites him to stay for a talk. She tells him the whole story and we see in flashback her refusal of the fella. Carson is so sympathetic. Of course we saw his backstory earlier. I like knowing more about the people in charge downstairs. Anna interrupts to say that Mrs. Patmore is on a rampage about the storeroom key. Heh. Back to business.
The family waits, dressed formally for dinner. Sybil is late. We see her in her room, with Anna fastening this mystery frock. In she comes, and we get the shocked reactions before we see the whole dress. Ah, haha! It’s harem pants at the bottom.
And the last shot is Branson at the window, peeking in and admiring.