Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale

The Dowager Countess casts a very long shadow. Over the course of six series, five Christmas specials and two feature films, Maggie Smith’s iconic turn as the irascible Violet Crawley formed the stiff, perfectly postured spine of Julian Fellowes’ long-running ITV period drama. However, Violet’s mortal exit from the show at the end of 2022’s Downton Abbey: A New Era (“Stop that noise, I can't hear myself die!”) felt like a natural end point not just for her, but for the story as a whole. Smith herself died last year at the age of 89, but the upstairs/downstairs residents of the Abbey return here one more time for (another) fond farewell that begs the question as to whether you can possibly have a Downton Abbey without its endlessly quotable centrepiece.

The answer, surprisingly, is largely yes. Violet herself gets more than a few tips of the film’s impeccably millinered hat, her presence permeating a number of the (numerous) plot strands, just as her portrait gazes imperiously down upon the Abbey’s great hall. By now, however, we’ve spent so much time with the various Crawleys and their staff, that even without their acid-toned matriarch, there’s still plenty of fun to be had.

With Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) now divorced from scallywag race-boy Henry Talbot, she’s become a social pariah (a divorced woman? Heaven forfend!), hounded out of a party early on by a delightfully pearl-clutching Joely Richardson as Lady Petersfield. Lady Grantham (Elizabeth McGovern) has lost her mother, and is counting on the inheritance to bail Downton out of its most recent financial crisis; however the arrival of her brother Harold (a returning Paul Giamatti) accompanied by shifty financial advisor Gus (Alessandro Nivola) bodes ill. Lord Grantham (Hugh Bonneville), on the other hand, is railing against everything from progressive influence (#thirtiessowoke), dreadful foreigners (“I’m English and I thank God for it!”) and the indignity of being asked to sell his London townhouse and downgrade to *gasp* a flat (*faints*). Lady Merton (Penelope Wilton), however, is focusing all her energy on modernising the County Fair (last year’s lack of decorum was absolutely scandalous!) while butting heads with fusty chairman Sir Hector (a wonderfully uptight Simon Russell Beale). Long-suffering Lady Edith (Laura Carmichael), now the Marchioness of Hexham, is finally flourishing, though, and even gets to lay the smackdown on an unruly cad in one standout scene.

The Grand Finale is, in all likelihood, exactly what you came for.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Mrs Patmore (Lesley Nicol) is preparing to hang up her apron as cook, just as distinguished butler Mr Carson (Jim Carter) is bucking against his own retirement (who on earth will polish the silverware properly?). Straight-talking scullery maid Daisy (Sophie McShera) is now married to new butler Andy (Michael Fox) and preparing to take charge of the kitchen (they’re having duck for dinner and they’ll bloody well like it). Former footman Barrow (Robert James-Collier), now dresser (and secret lover) of actor Guy Dexter (Dominic West), is also back in town. And to top it all off, Noël Coward (Arty Froushan, excellent) is coming round for tea. Absolutely capital!

All of which is to say that if you’ve never watched an episode of Downton in your life then you should just run for the hills, as you’ll be more lost than a hereditary peer in Asda. However, if you’ve come this far with the Crawley clan, then The Grand Finale is, in all likelihood, exactly what you came for. Cloying in places and unapologetically sentimental, it’s a cosy au revoir (yes, another one) to the cast of bumbling toffs and their dutiful attendants who we’ve come to love over the past 15 years. The various storylines are largely disposable (though a saucy sub-plot about Mrs Patmore’s bedroom antics is unexpected) and this is the very definition of low stakes — it’s hard to get too tense in a setting where high drama is passing the port in the wrong direction. But the characters themselves remain as delightful company as ever and have come a surprisingly long way in the time we’ve known them — entrenched class snobbery notwithstanding. Much is made of new eras, of passing the torch, legacy, and the feeling of obsolescence when time has passed you by. It’s neither a subtle point, nor subtly made, but it lands. Fellowes has had a long time to distil his particular brand of posh-porn, and by golly, the man knows his business.

Just like the previous film, this is a solid send-off for the whole Downton saga, with everyone — upstairs and downstairs — getting their moment to shine, leaving you with a tear in your eye and a warmth in your cockles. But, enjoyable as it undoubtedly is, let’s hope this latest ending sticks. Anything else just wouldn’t be cricket.