Downton Abbey review: Series 3 Episode 5

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“We’ve seen some troubles, you and I. Nothing worse than this.”

“Nothing could be worse.”

So, they finally did it. Downton Abbey finally killed off one of the Crawleys. And let me tell you, it was brutal.

But before we get to that, other stuff actually happened at Downton this week. Yes, I know it’s hard to remember, but it honestly did. Following on from his discussion with Violet last week, Matthew started to make tentative steps towards discussing the idea of making some changes to the way the Abbey is run. Unfortunately, following Robert shutting him down about it last week, Matthew’s on the back foot, and while he's obviously right, talking to Murray about it when Sybil’s body was still lying in the house (sob) was probably just about the stupidest thing he could have done, and see Mary shut him down so coldly for it was kind of amazing. Goodness, I’d forgotten how much I’d missed Fierce Mary. And Edith got offered a newspaper column, and Robert totally hurt her feelings by saying that they only wanted her name and not her opinions, which she reacted to by, like, saying something mean and running out of the room in a total emotional state like the teenage girl that she apparently is. Oh, Edith, I do love you.

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Down below stairs, some sort of weird love triangle/square/pentagon is developing. After years of being the lowest servant in the house, Daisy finally has someone to boss around in the form of kitchen maid Ivy. Of course, the fact that Alfred has taken a shine to the new girl has nothing to do with the fact that Daisy is treating her like a piece of dirt. No, nothing at all. And the new girl herself seems to have a little bit of a thing for other newbie Jimmy, who himself is finding Thomas is a little bit too interested in him. Oh Thomas, flirting over clocks; not exactly subtle, are you? In any case, it’s all starting to get very complicated down in the kitchen, and I hope it’s all resolved before Daisy’s personality transplant escalates to the point that she attacks Ivy with a burning pan of hollandaise sauce. Look, Daisy, just go visit Ethel over at Mrs Crawley’s house; she is apparently some sort of vixen man eater, so I’m sure she can give you a few tips.

And Anna finally found a piece of information that might prove Bates’s innocence; Vera was scrubbing pastry from her nails when Mrs Bartlett visited her, meaning she has just made the pie that would kill her. It’s a piece of detective work worthy of the great Hercule Poirot himself, but the only hitch is that it relies on Mrs Bartlett’s testimony and she kind of hates Bates (me too, Mrs B, me too) so they need to get it out of her before she realises its significance. I’m sure nothing about this plan will go wrong.

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But, really, what does any of that matter when sweet beautiful lovely Sybil is dead? Sure, it was signposted a mile off, almost from the first two minutes of the episode; as soon as Dr Clarkson said that she was a healthy young woman going through perfectly normal labour pains, a massive klaxon may as well have gone off saying “SHE’S GOING TO DIE! SHE IS YOUNG AND HEALTHY BUT IT IS NOT GOING TO BE OK!” And then she started complain of a sore head, which was a bad enough sign, and a fancy, clueless doctor from Harley street arrived, which was an even worse sign. But really, her fate was sealed the second she started urging people to talk about the future; couldn’t they all see that she was going to die? If she wanted assurances that Tom and the baby would be looked after, it meant that she wasn’t going to be around to do it herself, because that is the law of television. How could they not see that? Of course, the worst sign of all for her was the fact that she had a baby girl; when a woman is dies in childbirth when having a baby girl, the girl can be named after her mother and come to represent her in a way a boy never can, thus ramping up the drama. Poor Sybil, if only you hadn’t talked about the future and had a girl, you might still be with us.

Of course, the real culprits here, as they always are, are Silly Men. Everything about Robert and Sir Philip made me angry in this episode, from Robert looking all delicate and swoony at the use of the word “womb” to Philip having the audacity to suggest that Sybil might just have thick ankles. It was a brilliant depiction of the sway that gender and influence still had in the 1920s; even though Robert wanted to know nothing of the details of childbirth, it was still him who got to make the call about Sybil’s future, and the fact that Dr Clarkson knew Sybil and the family well counted for nothing when faced with a fancy doctor who undercut him at every moment. It was frustrating to watch as you knew exactly what was going to happen, yet it was utterly compelling for the same reason.

  

And full credit must go to all the cast for pulling this off magnificently. It’s easy to forget that Downton Abbey can be so much more than pretty dresses and withering putdowns; when they decide to do drama, they do it better than anyone. Michelle Dockery was particularly brilliant in Sybil’s death scene, as was Laura Carmichael as they gathered to say goodbye to the only person who ever thought well of both of them. Hugh Bonneville played the bumbling, impotent patriarch figure to perfection, and Jessica Brown Findlay deserves major credit for playing Sybil’s final moments with such gusto.

© ITV; Image credit: ITV

But the real revelations were Elizabeth McGovern and Allen Leech; too often is Cora a simpering fool, but here she showed grit and determination as she said fought for Sybil but was ignored, then found herself in the heartbreaking position of having to say goodbye to her baby, and then coldly told her husband in front of everyone that it was his fault. And, much and all as I absolutely adore him, Allen Leech often hasn’t had much to do beyond standing around, pining after Sybil with his puppy dog eyes, or delivering revolutionary-style speeches to an uncaring audience. But he played Tom’s utter despair at Sybil’s death to perfection, which wasn’t easy when surrounded by some seriously fine acting. The best of that seriously fine acting, though, came from exactly the place you would expect it to: Maggie Smith. Despite all the brilliant work done by her colleagues, she managed to match them all and more in a simple walk across the hall. Sure, she’s a master at sitting down and saying something witty, but in that moment she silently managed to remind us that Violet is an old woman, and one who now has to face the awful task of burying her youngest granddaughter.

The death of Sybil should help to shake things up and get them moving at Downton Abbey. But for now, I’m just going to quote Mrs Hughes, who summed up my feelings about this episode best:

“The sweetest spirit under this roof is gone, and I’m weeping myself.”