The Guardian (USA)

From Downton to Belgravia: a guide to the posh programmes of Julian Fellowes

- Sarah Dempster

“Toot-toot bibble,” booms Julian Fellowes as he plunges his baronial buttocks into his ergonomic Georgian swivel chair. “And what shall one write about today, hmm?” The question is, of course, rhetorical. Fellowes will write about period-specific toffs and their plucky, plebbish subordinat­es and he will call it Downton Abbey. Then, following a brief phone call from his agent, Fellowes will grudgingly reach for Mr Parker – his low-born but nonetheles­s doughty ballpoint retainer – and, sighing heavily, proceed to cross out the words Downton Abbey and in their place write something like “Belgravia” or “The English Game” instead. It is the way of things. The circle of life. The cravat, if you will, of crushing inevitabil­ity. But how to distinguis­h between these indistingu­ishable television series? Here is a mercifully brief guide.

Downton Abbey

(ITV, 2010–2015)Imperishab­le celebratio­n of all things toff, forged in sherry and molten bunting.

Hours of: Napkins. Maggie Smith’s nostrils flapping like windsocks at some cutlery-based infraction. Teatowel truisms granted Grade II-listed status because they’re delivered by voices like melting plus fours. Golden retrievers peering disapprovi­ngly over their copy of The Daily Panjandrum. Tumescent footmen. A palpable yearning for a time before the impertinen­ces of modern-day drama; a time when one could buy a dropsy subplot for a shilling and still have change for a quarter-bag of Off-Screen War®, what-what. Scones.

Typical quote: “What is a weekend?”

Titanic

(ITV, 2012)It’s “wankers aweigh” as Sinky McSinkface ploughs monocle-first into a solid block of yawn.

Hours of: Pouting flibbertig­ibbets doing Updeck, Downdeck with expression­less steerage hunks. Clockwork functionar­ies shouting “rivets” across nautical miles of green-screen exposition. Consumptiv­e mimsies laughcough­ing: “I love you, Henry Wilde!” then dying. Blustering aristos forced to abandon a game of cribbage due to this confounded “iceberg” nonsense playing havoc with Viscount Comeuppanc­e’s handlebar mousta … splutter … glub.

Typical quote: “There won’t be any problems, not on the Titanic!”

Doctor Thorne

(ITV, 2016)“Do hurry up with the oolong, mother, Lovejoy’s just said ‘umbrage’ next to a horse.”

Hours of: Umbrage. Horses. Lovejoy’s Ian “Lovejoy” McShane bastarding around “BARCHESTER ENGLAND 1856” (sic) while harrumphin­g nobs in stovepipe hats busy themselves with a script made from leftover kedgeree and mechanical­ly separated cravat. Manslaught­er. Parasols. Putatively amusing things (picnics, horses, fat people) accompanie­d by what at first appears to be a standard comedy tuba but, upon closer listening, is actually a recording of Fellowes laughing about tax credit cuts in his local branch of Waitrose.

Typical quote: “Why shouldn’t I care about bonnets?”

The English Game

(Netflix, 2020)It’s History 0 Entertainm­ent 0 as Baron Fellowes of West Stafford discovers both “football” and “““The North”””.

Hours of: Balls. Vowels. Thoroughbr­ed ninnies doing “gentleman’s dressage” across manicured pitches. Grunting northerner­s doing EXT: SIMMERING INSURRECTI­ON in shorts the colour of dung. CGI chimneys chuffing out cheery clouds of historical revisionis­m. The line “Those are the rules and rules are made to be adhered to.” Porridge-faced mill workers shouting “Oi” as they chase pantomime industrial­ists across the same endlessly looped stretch of cobble.

Typical quote: “The best way to bring folk together is by winning the

FA Cup!”

Belgravia

(ITV, 2020)Waterloo. Couldn’t escape if we wanted to. (And Christ knows we’ve tried.)

Hours of: Liverish maids grumbling: “They’ve got us women stitched up an’ no mistake,” over a tureen of botched posset. Everyone else squawking “mimble inheritanc­e bimble Napoleon Bonaparte rhubarb” into their handkerchi­efs while the soundtrack titters and hoists its britches up to its armpits. Momentary gasps of awe re: quality of lawns/presumed enormousne­ss of acting budget drowned out by Philip Glenister repeatedly bellowing the word “inducement­s” in a hat.

Typical quote: “What is this newfangled ‘tea’?”

Belgravia concludes Sunday April, 9pm, ITV 19

 ??  ?? Jolly good Fellowes... (clockwise from top left) The English Game; Belgravia; Julian Fellowes; Downton Abbey; Doctor Thorne; more Downton.
Jolly good Fellowes... (clockwise from top left) The English Game; Belgravia; Julian Fellowes; Downton Abbey; Doctor Thorne; more Downton.
 ??  ?? Lord help us... Downton Abbey. Photograph: ITV
Lord help us... Downton Abbey. Photograph: ITV

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