We're watching a soap opera with manners. I don't mean that in a particularly damning way. I've stated before that a great deal of cache and interest can come about by trying to decide who a character is to marry. In short, we tend to carry about the relationships between people, and we'd like them dramatized to keep it interesting. Adult life pretty much hinges on relationships, whether it be at home or at work, so it's no wonder that a soap opera vibe comes off a semi-delightful show.
The difficulty with constructing a drama that doesn't revolve around meth dealing, zombies, white walkers, being in the mafia, or motorcycle gangs, is that the drama isn't naturally built in. Rather, the writer's for the show must produce it in order to keep the audience interested. What are we interested in? Does it necessarily mean that we must keep watching awful things happening to characters that we otherwise like?
This week, Anna, played excellently by Joanne Froggatt, (limits of the script provided) is served up on the altar of drama in a terrifying rape sequence. I've been chief among the people calling for an end to all scenes with Bates and Anna as I had grown tired of watching the two of them rub their noses together like two bunnies who are very much in love. And, so, perhaps, in a way, I'm to blame. I mentioned in a previous post the advent of the slow television movement in Norway, a seven hour train ride from Oslo to Bergen aired in its entirety. What might a television show that resembled real life look like? Probably it would be tremendously boring. But what does boring mean anyway? Is it something that fails to entertain? Or that fails to keep our attention? Or is it something that comes down part and parcel with human life, or just modern life? Maybe if we, if I rather, were not bored so easily, television shows wouldn't be in so much of a rush to keep me entertained. Perhaps they could begin telling stories that resemble our lives, that don't leave us feeling entertained but a little less alone.
I'll leave the point to discuss the episode as a whole. In general, the party added new life back into DA. It was a better episode than the first, or at least filled with more joy and possibility. Nothing warms the heart like watching rich people discuss what wine will go best after dinner and which room is best to gamble in while downstairs the servants worry about who will open a jam of jar. It's this natural divide that can serve to make the show a pleasure and nothing brings it out quite so much as a party.
I was struck by a couple of performances in this episode. I thought Gregson, played by Charles Edwards, displayed something that's gone out of the house since Matthew disappeared, a bit of whit and charm. He saves the day by out cheating a card shark and obtaining everyone's IOU's. And while that is a nice character building moment by itself, I thought Edwards played it with the perfect amount of confidence and self-possession. He was believably in control and enjoying it. With Tom bumbling around talking about how he doesn't belong...(didn't we already do this plot line with feeling outcast and Edna? Round two it is) it was enjoyable to see a male around the house who wasn't miserable, dead, or just kind of on a slow slide to terrible.
I'm referring in the last bit to Lord Grantham who never fails now to disappoint. He claims Gregson is a good man after he has his IOU recovered by him, paying not a wit of attention to his character. He also doesn't want a common singer to be at the table with him and is only won over when she can discuss wines. If you've seen him in Daniel Deronda, playing an old troubled man, you've pretty much seen the future of Lord Grantham.
The most interesting character in DA right now is Mary. She's both marriageable, and we had a new beau introduced, part of the business, and in mourning/self-discovery. It's this last element that I find so interesting. Mary was not particularly lovable when Matthew was going after her, however, she was independent. Thus, it's entirely believable that she would be mourning both her loss of self and Matthew at the same time. Rather than viewing it as selfish, it seems like a perfect sequitur for modern and post-modern life. This post-modern life consists of saying: the most interesting thing happening in my life is not the things that happen to me, but the way that the things happen to me affect me. In effect, Mary is a stand in for the deification of the self that is familiar to all of us. What really concerns her about Matthew's death is that it affected Mary and that makes her fascinating.
In fact, she goes so far as to say that she doesn't know if having a great love is any use to her. Though I suspect she'll be proved wrong, I like that the show is giving her room to doubt, room to be selfish, and I'm glad that she smiled.
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