Upstairs, Downstairs, I've decided that I'd much rather live at 165 Eaton Place in London than be stranded at a huge country house in Yorkshire all my days. Oh, sure, a little visit to the country is nice now and then, but really, all the goings-on in Belgravia make life a lot more interesting and fun. Which is, I think, the problem I've always had with Downton. It's boring up there.
If you can get past moments of over-acting and don't mind living in a black-and-white video tape world for the first 6-7 episodes, why, you, too, can be a part of the illicit love affairs, real political intrigue, wild parties, royal events, and bastard children that come and go from Eaton Place. Downton? Erm, other than the occasional death, not so much happening, really.
Eileen Atkins and Jean Marsh must be shaking their heads in amazement at Julian Fellowes' lack of originality.
Violet's zingers at Downton, I'll still throw my lot with Downstairs' Sarah Moffat (or is it Clemence?), at turns hilarious, infuriating, and pathetic but always endearing. (Interestingly enough, "Violet" and "Sarah" are currently starring in the film "Quartet." Downton meets Downstairs 2013, I reckon.) Part of the reason is that I know Sarah so much better than Violet. Well, of course I do. I've known Sarah, Rose, Hudson, and Lord and Lady Bellamy for over 40 years, 5 seasons, and 68 episodes. I've only known Violet and the rest of the Crawley clan for a couple of years, 3 seasons, and 23 episodes.
But my heart belongs to the Bellamys.