Downton Abbey is what you’d expect – a big screen continuation of the popular TV series, with added royalty this time.
The allure of the British aristocracy – particularly comparing the scandalous behaviours of the toffs and of the servants who wait on them – has always been irresistible to the Brits, steeped as they are in their class system.
Americans are fascinated too, even if they don’t always get the finer points.
A similar culture clash was aired in Robert Altman’s brilliant satire Gosford Park, written by a minor toff called Julian Fellowes, who went on to become a real lord on the strength of his TV follow-up, Downton Abbey.
Downton scrapped the satire, dived headlong into costume drama soap-opera and became one of the most successful shows ever created.
But what exactly was the appeal? Even ardent Downton Abbey fans were a little puzzled.
The series started with a promise of scandal – murder and class warfare, sexual peccadillos above and below stairs. At one stage a Turkish diplomat threatened to compromise Lord Grantham’s eldest daughter - the key phrase being “threatened to”.
One of the secrets of Downton’s TV success was always promising the worst, but never quite delivering it.
No matter how gloomy things looked at the start of an episode, by the end, mostly, all became well, with very little difficulty.
So can the same magic formula happen in the feature film that picks up a year or so after – you’d think – just about all the loose ends had been tied up in pretty, pink bows?
Well, in Downton there are always more loose ends to be attended to.
The story opens with a telegram – as they usually did in the series’ episodes, announcing everything from the sinking of the Titanic to the outbreak of World War I.
In this case, nothing so stressful, you’d think, merely the arrival of some guests. But these guests are something special – the first sight of actual royalty in the entire franchise. Set in 1927, the royalty reference is in regard to King George V, the father of the King’s Speech chap.
The entire household is put on high alert. It turns out they won’t be required to cope with any extra demands, because the Royal Household completely takes over when His Majesty is visiting.
The staff’s nose is put out of joint, with the blame going – rather unfairly – on Barrow, the former footman, now the replacement for Carson as the Downton Abbey butler.
Barrow, the gay butler, has lurked as a potentially sinister figure since the series started. Regularly he threatens to overturn the apple cart with his dubious ways, and each time he fails to do so. And once again… well, it seems it’s happening once again.
My own favourite member of the Downton Abbey cast was always Joanne Froggatt, as the quietly heroic maid Anna. This time she seems to be in danger of being, once again, totally overlooked until she rallies the troops to take on the royal servant bullies.
Never in danger of being overlooked in anything she’s in is the redoubtable Maggie Smith, once again grabbing the script of Downton Abbey by the scruff of its clichés and milking it for everything she can.
This time she’s assisted by Imelda Staunton as a rival dowager, with a suspicious attachment to her lady’s maid Lucy.
The suspicious relationship, needless to say, will dissolve in a puff of smoke before it gets out of hand, but not before the actress playing Lucy has established herself - not just with her charm, but with her name - who could resist someone called Tuppence Middleton?
It’s easy to be as snobby towards Downton Abbey – on a big or small screen – as a royal chef is to Mrs Patmore, but there’s something endearing about its old-fashioned Englishness and total lack of cynicism as it doles out happy endings all round.
And the terrific cast again performs that mysterious Jedi mind trick that fools the audience into thinking they’re seeing something rather more significant than it is.
Like a bumble-bee, it flies even if by all the laws of physics it shouldn’t be able to.
