‘It took a while to realise this life is not lived by everyone’
‘Belgravia’ writer Julian Fellowes tells David Wigg how he developed such a keen eye for privilege
Julian Fellowes is perhaps one of our keenest observers of class, but his latest exploration of high society sees it through a lens far from the sprawling estates of Highclere. Multi-million-pound drama Belgravia, dubbed “Downton in the city”, concerns the goings-on behind the elegant doors of 19th-century London’s most fashionable postcode.
The series opens tomorrow night with a tragic, cross-class love affair between the beautiful Sophia, daughter of a wealthy and socially ambitious tradesman, and a dashing young officer who just happens to be the nephew of the Duchess of Richmond. Their romance begins at her famous ball on the eve of the Battle of Quatre Bras, a preliminary to the decisive Battle of Waterloo, and sets in motion a series of fictional events that have consequences for decades to come.
“There’s something about glamour and romance in peril that is very beguiling,” says Fellowes, 70, who learnt much about high society from his own experiences as a “Debs’ Delight”, during various coming out seasons. “I found myself being invited to a lot of house parties, dances and things by people who I didn’t really know. It was a wonderful opportunity to be someone else and observe,” he says. “Really, that was the start of the rest of my life because I never went back to that little, shy, tongue-tied person that I had been; this sad little fat boy in the corner of a dance.”
Starring Philip Glenister, Alice Eve and Tamsin Greig, ITV’S historical extravaganza seeks to fill the gap left by the departure of Downton Abbey from our screens six years ago. It is based on the writer’s 2016 novel of the same name, which was devoted to his wife of 30 years – Lady Emma Fellowes, a descendant of Lord Kitchener (of “Your Country Needs You” fame) and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Michael of Kent. In his book’s dedication to his wife, he credits her with being the one “without whom nothing in my life would be quite possible”.
An elegant looking woman with colourful style – often seen riding her Victorian bike with a basket on the front around busy Sloane Square, hair in a turban, long skirt flowing – Emma was a story editor on Downton and the pair often invite fledgling stars to their stately 17th-century pile, Stafford
‘When people say, “I can’t bear a snob,” you know they are snobs themselves’
House, in the picturesque Dorset village of West Stafford. There, just like a Fellowes drama, they mingle with older gentry friends and creative folk, dressing in black-tie and engaging in spirited discussions over dinner.
The couple, who have a 29-year-old producer son, Peregrine, first met at a cocktail party in London, when he was pursuing an acting career after studying at Ampleforth, Cambridge and the Webber Douglas Academy of Dramatic Art. Fellowes was 39 and Emma was 26. “From the moment I met her I knew I was going to marry her. I proposed 20 minutes later. But she immediately refused,” he tells me over lunch at Caraffini, one of his favourite Chelsea restaurants.
“She thought I was completely mad. She wouldn’t even give me her telephone number. So I had to track her down.” Fellowes did, and took her for dinner at a restaurant whose walls were adorned with pictures of Venice; 15 months later, they spent their honeymoon there.
Did he ever miss his carefree days as a well-connected young Cambridge graduate, frequenting those debutante balls? “Neither my face nor my figure empowered me to womanise a lot,” he says, smiling. “I took what I could get and I was grateful for it.”
Wearing a tailored navy blue pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt and silk tie, Fellowes appears every inch the statesman – he was created Lord Fellowes of West Stafford in 2011 – and charm personified, in conversation.
“When people say, ‘I can’t bear a snob,’ you know they are always the worst snobs themselves,” he notes. “It wasn’t until, really, Cambridge that I realised that I had had a privileged upbringing. Because compared to most of the people we knew, we weren’t particularly well off… Later on, I realised that a life of ponies, boarding school and birthday cakes is not being lived by everyone.”
Nowadays, he adds, everyone’s “hysterical” about privilege, “but the truth is, if you have affectionate parents and they love each other and they love you, then you are made strong for what life has to throw at you. And their actual circumstance or class or economic situation is so secondary compared to that.” Fellowes first worked as a rep actor, paid £18 a week (when it went up to £23, “I was dizzy at the glamour of it”), graduating to roles including the robust Earl Kilwillie in the BBC’S Monarch Of The Glen. But by the time he reached his 40s, he was starting to question everything: “I thought, is it ever going to happen or is this it – am I going to play fat vicars and nasty bankers for the rest of my life?”
It was Emma who encouraged him to concentrate on his writing; his earliest success was with children’s television series, The Prince and the Pauper in 1996, but his career only really took off in 2001 with Gosford Park, which won him an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. “It always made me laugh that I would read in the newspapers that this was my first script – I thought, ‘and the rest, dear!’.”
Having found his professional niche, it has been a while since Fellowes needed to worry about what his next gig might be: following the triumph of last year’s Downton film there is to be a sequel and, after Belgravia airs, come two more major projects – The Gilded Age, about New York City in the 1880s for HBO, and The English Game, on the origins of modern football in Britain’s public schools in the 19th century, which begins on Netflix next Friday.
At a time when screen giants have been toppled by Metoo, Fellowes says he welcomes the movement. “There has been a great abuse of power in Hollywood for many years,” he says. “It is inevitable in some areas that it’s bound to swing quite far the other way, but when things settle down, the pendulum will be in a better position than it was before.”
He urges that people are honest about what goes on behind closed doors. “There’s no good talking as though it’s something that’s never come up in your career,” he says. “No, I’ve seen it. I once stopped a tape because the director just kept making this wretched young girl go over and over her provocative scene again and again. And I wasn’t having it.”
The profession remains bogged down, too, by accusations of elitism, with which Fellowes also has sympathy. “I mean, there are still actors from all backgrounds and there are still dramas about all backgrounds, so I don’t think that one should overstate the case,” he says. “But I do think it is very tough to get into the profession without any resources of your own.”
He hears from many aspiring actors and Downton fans who “usually want an opinion about their chances in the industry”. This is as much sway as he would wish to have with strangers. “I don’t envy those who have enormous fame. You can never turn it off. I’ve never had it – and I wouldn’t want it.”
Belgravia starts on ITV tomorrow night at 9pm