Since its creation in 2010, Downton Abbey has become a veritable industry, with six seasons, a special Christmas episode, two films and hordes of tourists. The fruit of the imagination of screenwriter and producer Julian Fellowes, the intertwined destinies of the noble Crawley family and their abundant servants never cease to fascinate many audiences. There is everything: drama, humor, a bit of suspense, love, of course, and beautiful costumes. The recent Downton Abbey: A New Era (Downton Abbey: A New Era) is no exception.
Nevertheless, at this stage, it smells seriously like the recipe. Admittedly, and to remain in the culinary images, since the ingredients are of quality and that the whole turns out just enough seasoned, why complain?
However, precisely, the said ingredients – scenario, staging and interpretation – arrive below the best moments of the saga. As for the spice, namely the priceless character of the Dowager Countess embodied by the incomparable Maggie Smith, we would have taken more. What’s more, the sharp points of the Countess, her trademark, have, alas, dulled and only trigger hilarity half the time.
Another spicy component: the strained relationship between the Crawley sisters. Let’s take it for granted, it’s a thing of the past. Apart from a semblance of disagreement, it is now a good understanding, which turns out to be very boring, dramatically speaking.
The story, which resembles two awkwardly intertwined episodes, is not particularly captivating. But at Downton, part of the family and the servants are alternately dazzled and shocked by the Hollywood fauna who have come to shoot a silent film on the spot, in the south of France. Another part of the clan and staff stays in a villa which the Countess mysteriously inherited.
No real stake
If you are intrigued at first, the effect is quickly dissipated since Julian Fellowes finds a way to fan each of his twists with a lot of heavy dialogue or obvious allusions. For example, this character—whose identity will be kept secret—who admits to being tired, then mentions a medical appointment: um… is someone seriously ill?
The series and the first film were not models of subtlety, but Fellowes showed a refinement there that we seek in vain here (the completely random direction of Simon Curtis does not help). In fact, all the conflicts and potential problems are so quickly resolved that the scenario, eminently predictable moreover, finds itself without any real stakes to dig into. By trying to occupy everyone, the narrative becomes dispersed, superficial and predictable.
Everything happens as expected, but often faster than expected. And the film continues with the following sub-plot which will be dispatched just as quickly. Take the love life of the butler Barrow, whose denouement we see dawning as soon as a certain character enters the scene, and whose homosexuality, illegal at the time and long after, continues to be treated with incredible benevolence by the other characters: it is commendable and no doubt well-intentioned, but it is to deny the unspeakable suffering endured by the community then, and subsequently.
Which sub-plots, moreover, have several of them already known from previous incarnations in the series. By multiplying the references to the brilliant Gosford Parkby Robert Altman, written by Julian Fellowes in 2001 and whose screenplay in many respects laid the foundations for Downton Abbey, this new film inspires comparisons that do not favor it. In short, too stretched, the sauce is now very bland. Never mind: Chief Fellowes confided these days considering putting the cover back on for a third film.