I decided it was only fitting that I watch the last "ever" episode of Downton Abbey. I was looking forward to the slaps, the explosions, the arrests, the hangings, the timely or untimely deaths, the fire, and whatever other emotionally decimating excitement Julian Fellowes was going to unleash on us.
|Marigolds - the elephant in the room|
|Nice, but not to Violet's taste.|
But golly gumdrops, at least they have stopped talking about the bloody hospital.
And it turned out it wasn't the final episode ever. There's a Christmas special. Groan. So maybe Julian Fellowes is saving all the drama for then. The birth of Anna's baby. The reconciliation of Edith and Bertie. The affair of Mary and Branson, leading to Henry pranging his racing car into a wall. The elopement of the Dowager and Spratt after she becomes his agony aunt column's greatest fan. The closing down of the village school after Ofsted observe one of Molesley's lessons on the Divine Right of Kings. Daisy's matriculation at Oxford. The recurrence of Lord Grantham's burst ulcer after too many of Mrs Patmore's scones. The burning of Downton. though I realise the latter may be a bit of an inconvenience for the good folk at Highclere. Especially at Christmas.
Or will it just be more of the same, leaving Julian the option of coming back for a seventh series after all, and leaving us as depressed as a Queen Vic Christmas dinner?
|It will all come good in December. Or not.|
(*** Disclaimer: I may have watched more of the sixth season than I am prepared to admit.***)