He was supposed to marry dead old Lavinia, remember, but he didn't love her and so she was conveniently felled by the plot disguised as the Spanish flu. I think. I had some cheese in my ears at the time.
Anyway, the silly old Earl has lost all of Cora's fortune (almost all, actually; I suspect the almost is so that all will somehow be saved by the plot.)
As some cynic in my living room said, while snorting: If all of the English aristocrats were as drippy and witless as the Earl, it's small wonder most of them went under.
I think Bates is about to get 'imself in a spot of bother in the pokey. He doesn't like his new cell mate. I do. I think he's the cleverest fellow in the plot. He said to Bates: "Why do you 'ave to be so pious?" What a very good question.
The big set scene (other than the wedding, during which I put a nice bit of brie in my eyes so as not to have to watch Mary be waspishly beautiful and Matthew handsomely, smugly dull) was the promised meeting between the dowager countess and Cora's mum, played, we hoped, madly, by Shirley MacLaine. So far, so Sir Anthony. In other words, it was all a bit of a snore.
There's always Boardwalk Empire if you like your period dramas to have a bit more pep, or violence. I don't mind either, and I can see that Boardwalk Empire is lavishly made, cracks along and is well written and scripted and acted.
But I can't love it. I suspect that this gangster stuff is for blokes, mostly, which obviously rules me out. Still, I did enjoy the King Tut New Year's Eve party which was very jazz age and over the top and much more fun than the Downton wedding during which there wasn't supposed to be a dry eye in the house. In our house there was instead much eye-rolling.
"Have you done something jolly with your hair?" said the one-armed Sir Anthony to the dreadful Edith. I wish they'd do something jolly with the plot.
Having Bates battered to death with a prison cheese, say, would cheer me up immensely.
-TimeOut