Downton with a Dash of Poppins

Elegant damsels and suited up Britains, corsets and scandal and talk in the kitchen, a servant staff large enough for a king, these are a few of my favorite things. Downton Abbey will surely ingrain itself in your brain as do the annoyingly catchy lyrics of a Julie Andrews’ song. It’s witty. It’s scandalous. It’s more entertaining than I would have thought PBS capable of.

Considering Downton Abbey details the life of the wealthy Crawley family and their servants (not to mention it falls into the niche of black-suited, Laura Linney-introduced Masterpiece Theatre), it comes as a surprise that the storyline woos its audience with shock, scandal, and strife. Of course, what is considered shocking, scandalous, and strife-worthy in 20^th century England differs greatly from what is considered those things in present-day America. Regardless, scenes of pre-marital sex, wounded WWI soldiers, and a love affair between Lady Sybil (Jessica Brown-Findlay) and chauffer Branson (Allen Leech) keep you as wide-eyed as a five-year-old in Willy Wonka’s candy shop.

And while the storylines are surprisingly provocative, the characters and their relationships with one another are remarkably poignant.  No matter how wretched Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) can be towards her sister, Lady Edith (Laura Carmichael), and Cousin Matthew Crawley (Dan Stevens), you find you will continue to root for her I’m-better-than-you feminist attitude as well as her back-and-forth relationship with earnest Matthew throughout the series. Downton’s servants seduce viewers into popcorn inhalation, as well, with both their kindness and knavery towards the beloved Crawley family. I almost choked on a kernel when O’Brien (Siobhan Finneran), Lady Grantham’s (Elizabeth McGovern) maid, plants a half bar of soap by the edge of the bathtub, in which Lady Grantham (well-past child-bearing age) slips upon and miscarries her last chance for an heir to the Crawley fortune.

What began with a tragedy in season one—the sinking of the Titanic—and ended with an engagement in season two (Cousin Matthew finally gives into his own stubbornness as he propositions Lady Mary for marriage, who insists he kneel down in the snow and propose if he wants a proper answer from her), Downton Abbey has yet to disappoint. With just enough wealth, war, and saucy remarks from Maggie Smith’s Countess of Grantham (“So, that’s Mary’s replacement. Well, I suppose looks aren’t everything.”) weaved into the equation, I have become an avid fan of the pleasantly arrogant Crawleys and their gossiping staff.  So when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I simply watch Downton endlessly, and then I don't feel so bad.