A few years ago (maybe 2012), someone posted a season-by-season analysis of the series. That five-part analysis was later deleted, but I would wish for whoever wrote it to bring it back so I can record it personally and privately.
shareOh, I did that! Under another name (melj). I've got it saved somewhere, so I'll try to dig it out.
shareSeries One
After not having watched Upstairs Downstairs for several years, I decided to work my way through the sixty-eight episodes, and I have just finished re-watching series one. Here are my thoughts on each episode and the main characters/performances:
1. On Trial
Fay Weldon’s later episodes are among the worst, but she does a decent job here in the way that she sets the scene, the tone, and the period; but, above all, in the characterisations. I was thoroughly absorbed by the end of the first kitchen scene with Sarah, Mrs Bridges, et al. I find Sarah to be a very interesting character here. I like her need to escape into fantasy because the reality of her past was rather bleak, to say the least. I like the fact that certain things are kept ambiguous: we never learn her real name. My biggest criticism is that there is a tremendous bias in favour of downstairs: Lady Marjorie comes across as rather two-dimensional, as Richard tells her not to “bother her pretty head” about virtually anything. I also think that some mention should have been made of James and Elizabeth, as it seems that Richard and Lady Marjorie are a childless couple.
2. The Mistress and the Maids
This is not one of the best episodes. Although I enjoyed seeing Anton Rodgers, I’m not a big fan of this episode. Once again, Lady Marjorie is portrayed as little more than ornamental: in her very presence, Richard denies that she has a “strong character”.
3. Board Wages
I thoroughly enjoyed this episode. I was impressed that the early comedic scenes come off so well without being embarrassing, and the scenes with James are very good. This episode provides the first dramatically potent moment in Upstairs Downstairs: when James tears Sarah’s dress, and she laments, “People like you can't make it up to people like me.”
4. The Path of Duty
This episode has perhaps the most authentically Edwardian feel to it, because of the sense of period and tradition with the “coming out” ball theme. Elizabeth provides a refreshing presence, and Nicola Pagett does a nice job of bringing out Elizabeth’s hypocrisy in a subtle way. I do find it inconceivable that Lady Marjorie would have been so unconcerned about her seventeen-year-old daughter’s being out, alone, at night.
5. A Suitable Marriage
I find Alfred quite interesting in this episode, and I would have liked to have seen him explored in further depth (I’m looking forward to his return). Lady Marjorie’s ‘pervert’ comment doesn’t sit well with me, but I applaud the writer for not putting political correctness above authenticity. However, this begs the question: would Edwardian aristocrats have held such views? I seem to remember a later episode in which Richard, James, and Virginia take the idea of a friend’s being a (discreet) homosexual in their stride… Perhaps it is more the fact that the baron “corrupted” one of their servants. A strong episode overall.
6. Magic Casements
Although, on account of the colour/black and white controversy, this was shown after A Cry for Help, it was intended to be seen before, and I find that it makes more sense to watch it in this order, especially regarding Edward’s arrival at the house. I really enjoyed this – admittedly melodramatic – episode. At last, Lady Marjorie is fleshed out! Rachel Gurney is splendid here, and so beautiful. My favourite episode of series one.
7. A Cry for Help
This is a good episode, although perhaps a little too self-conscious in its depiction of social inequality, etc., but very good for its complex portrayal of Richard. It is nice to see the servants eventually rallying round poor Mary.
8. I Dies From Love
This would have been the best episode of series one, were it not for the unbelievable level of cruelty that the writers made Mrs Bridges spout. It feels so overwritten and lacking in subtlety. Otherwise, this is a wonderfully tragic episode. Poor, poor Emily! She is definitely my favourite kitchen maid, and I think that she was Mrs Bridges’ favourite, too. The saddest bit, I think, is when Rose places Emily’s crucifix in her coffin, saying that she “had so few things, but they were hers, after all”. Either that or the part where Emily dictates her letter to William, and wants to sign her real name, but doesn’t know how to spell it. I particularly like the tender scene in which Lady Marjory tries to comfort Emily, and appears to be thinking of her own thwarted love affair.
9. Why is Her Door Locked?
I love Lady Marjorie in this episode, especially when she plots with Hudson to get in touch with his friend in the police, much to Richard’s dismay. I was also very moved by Mrs Bridges’ genuine declaration that losing Emily was as if she’d lost her own daughter. Apart from that, though, it is a rather silly episode. I don’t think that the other downstairs characters (Alice and Doris) are integrated particularly well.
10. A Voice From the Past
I find this to be rather a silly episode, and Elizabeth develops into an unpleasant and exasperating character. I think that the Ouija board scene does not work well, and Alice is quite annoying; I was glad to see her go.
11. The Swedish Tiger
Almost universally labelled the worst episode of Upstairs Downstairs, this episode is, sadly, integral to the continuity of the story, as it details Sarah’s departure from 165 Eaton Place. I actually find it quite funny. In fact, I laughed aloud when Elizabeth said to James, “I don’t think you follow me.” Surely that’s what every single viewer was thinking at that point! The cast should be commended for doing so well with such incompetent dialogue. I think that the main problem is that the writer is trying to be too clever for his own good. He was probably a novelist, and not used to writing dialogue. Anyway, it certainly is the worst episode of the entire series.
12. The Key to the Door
I find this episode difficult to watch, because Elizabeth and her friends are so infuriating! It is nice to see Georgia Brown, who went on to star in the excellent suffragette drama, Shoulder to Shoulder. I must say that I love the scene in which Elizabeth is startled by Hudson, and claims to have been memorising something that she has read – Hudson doesn’t look convinced!
13. For Love of Love
This is a rather low-key ending, and it feels ridiculous not to have Mrs Bridges (because of Angela Baddeley’s illness) in this last episode. I felt truly sorry for Lady Marjorie, and I almost cheered aloud whilst watching the part where she denounces Elizabeth’s behaviour as no more than “a selfish, childish, arrogant whim”. Brilliantly succinct in its accuracy! The scene in which Rose tells Elizabeth about her mother’s death is moving.
Characters/Actors:
1. Rose/Jean Marsh
She is very likable and believably innocent, but also questioning. I like her all the more because I know how she will develop in later series. Jean Marsh is lovely and, actually, quite attractive; something which I had never appreciated during previous viewings.
2. Hudson/Gordon Jackson
Impeccably acted by Gordon Jackson, Hudson, nevertheless, does irritate me because of his toleration of hypocrisy. However, he has many moments of genuine compassion and humour which compensate.
3. Lady Marjorie/Rachel Gurney
For me, Rachel Gurney steals the first series. She is dazzlingly radiant, and she gives a wonderful performance throughout. It is a shame that the earlier episodes give her far less with which to work, but that is, thankfully, remedied later on. As a character, I grew to like Lady Marjorie very much, in spite of her occasional arrogance and childish behaviour. She is, on the whole, a loving wife and mother, and a caring employer.
4. Richard/David Langton
Richard provides the moral backbone of the series, and he is played with sensitivity and charm by David Langton. Surely everyone likes Richard.
5. James/Simon Williams
I think that Simon Williams, an inexperienced actor, starts somewhat shakily, but still manages to present James as complex and three-dimensional. I have, so far, found him to be a largely sympathetic character.
6. Elizabeth/Nicola Pagett
I shan’t say too much about Elizabeth, as I can hardly think of anything good to say! I really can’t stand her, even though Nicola Pagett is beautiful to look at (I actually think that Gurney is more so). Actually, I do like her in her first two episodes, but I can’t stomach her after that.
7. Sarah/Pauline Collins
I like Sarah in this series, but I think that there is almost nothing more of interest to be done with her. She has already run out of steam (after only six episodes). Pauline Collins is a great asset to the series, though, and she has very strong presence.
8. Miss Roberts/Patsy Smart
I must mention the deliciously venomous Miss Roberts, who is played with expert comic timing by Patsy Smart.
Series Two
I have just finished series two, so I shall do the same sort of review as I did for series one:
1. The New Man
I was not looking forward to so many Elizabeth/Lawrence-centric episodes, but I was pleasantly surprised. The scene with Elizabeth, Lawrence, and Lady Marjorie is actually quite wonderful in its subtlety; the way that everything seems so idyllic, with the feeling that something is wrong becoming increasingly palpable, is meticulously captured by Rosemary Anne Sisson and, especially, Nicola Pagett and Rachel Gurney. I like the fact that the “problem” in Elizabeth and Lawrence’s marriage is never actually alluded to in the entire episode, but it starts to appear quite obvious. It is also nice to see Rose trying to run the household, as well as indulging in a harmless (on her part) flirtation with Thomas.
2. A Pair of Exiles
This is such a good episode, and much better than the preceding one. James and Sarah make a likable and ultimately sympathetic pair, and Rachel Gurney is just marvellous here! I think that her “tigress” scene with Sir Geoffrey Dillon (loathsome, but amusing) is the best single scene in the first two series of Upstairs Downstairs, especially for the sheer quality of the acting, but also for the wonderful dialogue.
3. Married Love
I was sorry to return the far less interesting of the two concurrent storylines. Thank goodness for Rose and the brief appearance from Lady Marjorie, as otherwise this is a rather uninteresting episode filled with characters who, I’m sorry to say, fail to evoke any sympathy or to appear likable (in this episode, at least). Actually, I do feel some sympathy for Elizabeth, but Lawrence is hard to watch.
4. Whom God Hath Joined…
Yet another Elizabeth/Lawrence-dominated episode, but thank goodness it sees the end of that storyline! I was actually moved by Elizabeth’s scene with Sir Geoffrey, in which she tearfully recounts her fears of being repugnant to Lawrence. I think that Lawrence is well-written in this episode, and he finally becomes a believable human being. Of course, the highlight of the episode is the classic line, “our virgin bride is three months’ pregnant!”
5. Guest of Honour
This seems to be the most fondly remembered episode of Upstairs Downstairs, and I would say that it is the best of series two, closely followed by A Pair of Exiles. What makes it so good is the assurance with which Alfred Shaughnessy details the experience of being honoured with a visit from the King, given that he had first-hand knowledge of such an experience. It is touching to see the genuine excitement and nerves that are felt both upstairs and downstairs. I also like the development of Lady Prudence Fairfax from a silly gossip into a caring and loyal friend of the family, and it is good to see that Lady Marjorie has the wisdom to decide that James “has a right to know that his child died” – a rare instance of thoughtlessness and insensitivity on Richard’s part for disagreeing.
6. The Property of a Lady
All in all, this is a fun, light episode that is touching in its portrayal of Richard and Lady Marjorie’s deep, reciprocal love for one another. It is a bit too light, though!
7. Your Obedient Servant
Well, this episode really just doesn’t fit in at all, and it feels as if it belongs to another series! It actually works quite well as a self-contained play – even though the characterisations are very limited, especially regarding the families of both Richard and Hudson – but it is all wrong in its depictions of the regular characters. Upstairs Downstairs has many examples of poor continuity during its five series, but by and large, the writers do a good job of keeping things believable. However, Fay Weldon appears to have paid no attention to any of the other episodes. This episode also does nothing to develop any of the main storylines of series two; therefore, it could be omitted without any difficulty. Having said that, it is almost worth it for the scene in which Miss Roberts recounts her youthful romance.
8. Out of the Everywhere
This episode is an improvement on the previous one, and good for its nostalgic air, but it is not one of my favourites; special mention must be given to Daphne Heard’s fine performance, though. Elizabeth is detestable here. To be fair, I really think that the script doesn’t do her justice, as nowhere else do we see her, for all her faults, merely interested in parties and her “wretched hair”. She does redeem herself in the end, but it is a case of “too little too late”.
9. An Object of Value
This is a pretty good episode, most notable for Cathleen Nesbitt’s welcome guest appearance and Patsy Smart’s first opportunity to demonstrate that her comic timing was matched by her dramatic acting ability. It is also interesting to hear Lady Marjorie say that she wishes she’d known her father better. However, I do think that the usually enjoyable Christopher Biggins is miscast as a potential rapist – difficult to believe!
10. A Special Mischief
This is definitely my least favourite episode, so far! In fact, it really does leave a bad aftertaste. The only thing that I could say is at all positive is the portrayal of the other women imprisoned and their courage in the face of the horrors that they endure. I find Rose – normally one of my favourite characters – pathetically whiny and irritating here. I don’t know if the surprisingly vocal depiction of Ruby was supposed to be comical, but I find her a thoroughly unpleasant character here (and, I’m sorry to say, badly acted by Jenny Tomasin). Then, of course, there is Elizabeth, and the least said about her despicable behaviour here, the better.
11. The Fruits of Love
I love this episode, and after having something of a love/hate relationship with Elizabeth, I am grateful to this episode for making me like her again. I actually couldn’t help revelling with her in the joy of finally finding a satisfying relationship with a man. Donald Burton does a perfect job of conveying Julius’ powerful allure, and he even manages to make a cigarette holder look sexy and masculine. The scene in which Elizabeth confronts her mother about Charles Hammond is tenderly performed and poignant.
12. The Wages of Sin
I like this episode because of the scenes between Lady Marjorie, Richard, and Watkins. The shifting power between them is captured well. It also feels something of a milestone when Richard and Lady Marjorie venture downstairs (although I realise that the latter did so in Guest of Honour, as did Richard in Your Obedient Servant, but it still feels as if it is the first time that they have done so). The last scene, ending with an upstairs kiss, is lovely.
13. A Family Gathering
This episode sees the end of an era with the end of the Edwardian period, and I think that it comes just in time, as the writers exhausted that decade. Again, I was quite astonished at how much sympathy I felt for Elizabeth – what a shame that this happens just as she is about to leave! It might have been considered a neater ending to have shown Elizabeth and Julius walking off into the sunset together, but I prefer this realistic portrayal. I am surprised at what an impression Delia Lindsay makes in her brief appearance as Phyllis: she combines vulnerability, insecurity, warmth, and insufferable haughtiness, and makes the character fully three-dimensional in only a handful of scenes: an impressive feat. I think that it is a mistake to bring back Thomas and Sarah for their last, silly scene. The previous episode was a very appropriate denouement for those two characters, and this really feels like “egging the pudding”, as Mrs Bridges might have said. The tone of the last scene is surprisingly ominous, and it has really whetted my appetite for the next series.
Series Three
I have just finished watching series three, and I would like to start with some thoughts on the series as a whole, before moving on to looking at the individual episodes. From episode one, it is clear that this series is very different from the previous two: gone are unpleasant characters, such as Elizabeth (well, sometimes unpleasant in her case), Lawrence, and Thomas Watkins; gone are the silly, and increasingly repetitive, storylines involving Sarah; gone is the assurance, complacency, and elegant languor of the Edwardian age. Also, I’m sorry to say, gone is the superb Rachel Gurney as Lady Marjorie. Something curious which I noticed, as well, is the absence of colour. Gurney and Nicola Pagett, the two most beautiful actresses in Upstairs Downstairs, take with them all their stunning costumes, and 165 Eaton Place seems to have lost something of its glitter, glamour, and radiance. It is as if the series is in mourning for the age that has gone. Anyway, instead, we are presented with a mature, thoughtful drama which conveys a brilliantly pervasive sense of uncertainty; several characters, most notably Hudson, Rose, James, Richard, and newcomer Hazel, embark on wonderfully complex developing arcs, as they see their world and values crumbling around them. The thirteen episodes display far more continuity than has hitherto been seen on the programme, and show real development. The fact that there are far fewer characters – and none of the myriad servants that only last one or two episodes (apart from Gwyneth) – gives the story a tighter, more focused feel. With one notable exception, I enjoyed every single episode.
1. Miss Forest
This is the episode to set the tone for the rest of the series. It is clear that things are changing, and the scenes with Hudson’s outbursts and resignation are genuinely affecting. During this series, he shows many moments of tremendous fear, as he almost fails to understand the world around him. I think that he feels Lady Marjorie’s death more keenly than most, as he sees in her a kindred spirit; she is virtually the only person to possess the same standards as he does himself. After she is gone, he struggles, perhaps more so than anyone, to let go of her memory, as he fights to hold onto “her Ladyship’s world” (note the many references: “it would never have happened if her Ladyship were still alive.”) I found James’s chronic boredom very interesting, too. He has tried so many pathways, and I could sympathise with him in his frustration; I think that perhaps he should have stayed in India, as maybe he needed to be in an exotic, inspiring environment, and that is why he finds it difficult to be at home in a “9-5” job. I could totally understand his growing interest in the newest addition to 165 Eaton Place, the unassuming, intriguing eponymous character. Her claims to being an uninteresting, unexceptional, and ordinary person have the same effect on me as they seem to have on James, as I find her deeply compelling and original; she makes me want to know more about her. Meg Wynn Owen conveys these qualities expertly, and, as she manages to do throughout series three, shows a character with a very real inner life. She gives so much with a single facial expression, and in her debut episode it is already clear that Hazel is someone who is trying to conceal her past, maintain her respectability, get along with everyone, do her work to the best of her ability, but who is also becoming more and more attracted to James. There is genuine conflict there, and Wynn Owen seems to understand this instinctively; a remarkably thoughtful, yet visceral piece of acting. Of course, this episode is also notable as the last to feature my favourite cast member, Rachel Gurney. She doesn’t have much to do here, but I think that it’s important that she spends her last episode holding on doggedly to her cherished values which are about to be destroyed forever. She is perhaps the central character of series three, as her ghost haunts the house and all the other characters left behind; she represents the Edwardian age which has also just died, and for the memory of which many people will die in the approaching war. Apologies for such an inordinately long episode review!
2. A House Divided
What a marvellous episode – the best, so far! The way that the whole house is unable to function without Lady Marjorie is so beautifully captured. Quite apart from the fact that Lady Marjorie would have disapproved of a marriage between James and Hazel, I think that her death is a major catalyst in their growing closeness; as another character later remarks, James seems to have a mother fixation. He was always very much his mother’s son, and they had a very strong bond. It is interesting that he chooses a woman of mature years, compared with all those ladies with whom he would be used to socialising, and, moreover, one who bears such a striking physical resemblance to his mother, whilst also possessing a warm, maternal quality. He turns to her for comfort, and this episode is integral to the development of their relationship. Then, of course, there are the profoundly moving scenes with Miss Roberts. Patsy Smart gives such a stellar performance, and the series reaches a height that it has never yet attained; thankfully, it will do so again!
3. A Change of Scene
With so many regular characters gone, the threat of Hudson’s departure here is very real. It is so nice to see Patricia Lawrence whose most memorable role, for me, is a very different one: Sister Ulrica in Tenko. I find it interesting that her character’s name is Kenton, which is the same as another housekeeper’s, in Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day. After hearing so many references to life in the country, it was a fine idea to set this episode there, and it is refreshing not only to have a “change of scene”, but also some new characters. John Quale gives a very sensitive performance as Bunny, imbuing him with dignity and gravitas, even though he could so easily have played him merely as a buffoon. I wish we could have seen more of him, and also of Celia Bannerman’s Diana. I find Diana an interesting character, especially given that, being as eligible as she must have appeared, she is still unmarried at a slightly advanced age. I like the fact that she is rather ambiguous; although, on the surface, she seems just the sort to indulge in bitchy, snobbish behaviour, she says that she dislikes Kitty Danby for doing just that. I can’t remember if it’s here or elsewhere, but I think that it’s worth noting that apparently the Cochrane Danbys are considered to be somewhat socially inferior; perhaps that’s why Kitty feels the need to be such an unpleasant gossip: in order to distract attention away from her own deficiencies.
4. A Family Secret
As has been said before, Hazel’s family and home life is meticulously portrayed. I was delighted to have the opportunity of getting to know the “real” Hazel. Despite the many wonderfully moving scenes in this episode – the two proposal scenes, the scene between James and Mr Forest, the last scene with Richard reflecting on his own lost happiness – my favourite is the moment when James goes downstairs for a chat with Mrs Bridges. There are hardly any scenes – perhaps this is the only one – with just these two characters, but it strikes me as very appropriate that he would look to her as another surrogate mother. It has an air of nostalgia, conjuring up images of James going downstairs as a boy, delighting the servants, but it is also very touching to see him consider the servants’ feelings and value Mrs Bridges’ advice to such a degree.
5. Rose’s Pigeon
This episode – quite inexplicably, as far as I’m concerned – seems to receive hardly any attention. It is a powerful and unsettling episode which raises many controversial issues. The characterisation of Alfred and the relationship between him and Rose are both interesting and complex. The most affecting and memorable scene is the closing one between Rose and Hudson. Rose argues that it is wrong to execute a man who is not fully sane; Hudson disagrees, and it is just possible to perceive – through Gordon Jackson’s subtle acting – an element of doubt and fear in Hudson’s own beliefs. It is another pivotal moment, as he becomes yet more uncertain of what to think about the world around him.
6. Desirous of Change
Fay Weldon should be applauded for this script – just as long as her intention was to interrupt the otherwise seamless quality of the third series. It is unsurprising that this episode has such a bad reputation. I think that its worst fault is its portrayal of Richard. I don’t object to the idea of his finding solace in the months following his bereavement, but I really must take exception to his comment about being accustomed to jumping out of windows in order to escape from jealous husbands – I can’t accept the idea of Richard’s ever being the Charles Gilmour type! As far as the characterisation of Gwyneth is concerned, I think that Weldon is trying to present a caricature of Sarah; another character who spends her time making up stories. Although well-acted by Janet Lees-Price, she is simply a mess! The one positive aspect of this disastrous episode is the happy depiction of James and Hazel’s early married life, as I think that it’s easy to forget that they were once happy together. It is just a very stupid episode slapped in the middle of an outstanding series.
7. Word of Honour
This is a fine, complex episode, most notable for its final scene. Richard’s behaviour in the episode is interesting if one considers that he, like Hazel, was not born into his current position. I do think that he is amazed that she isn’t as anxious as he had been simply to “fit in”. I remember that, in The Wages of Sin, Richard talked about having been fond of beer in his youth, but having given it up unconditionally when he began to mix with the higher classes. I get a sense of his being more conscious of class here than anywhere else, and I can picture him in younger days doing everything in his power to dissociate himself from his humbler origins. I think that he can’t quite fathom why Hazel strives more to stand by her own moral beliefs, regardless of whether or not they are deemed to belong to the upper echelons of society.
8. The Bolter
This is one of the more enjoyable episodes of series three; coming as it does in the midst of much serious drama, it has a lighter feel to it, despite the level of conflict which takes place. I was very disappointed with James’ behaviour. I think that his most unpleasant trait is his lack of sensitivity. He is clearly more concerned about Hazel’s welfare than his own embarrassment, but he is incapable of telling her so. Instead, when she needs comforting after a traumatic experience, he scolds her. Similarly, he means no harm when he flirts with Diana, but he fails to recognise how hurtful his behaviour is in the eyes of his wife and his good friend (Bunny). On a lighter note, it is amusing to see Rose’s reaction when surrounded by servants with less moral rectitude than those at 165 Eaton Place, and Richard Vernon is great fun as Major Danby. It is also a pity that Meg Wynn Owen gets so few opportunities literally to let her down, as nowhere does she look more beautiful than in her scenes in her nightdress.
9. Goodwill to All Men
Normally, ‘Christmas episodes’ are a disappointment, but this is lovely without being unbearably saccharine. Unlike the endless list of maids, Jacqueline Tong’s Daisy seems really to belong at 165 Eaton Place, making a very welcome addition, and Lesley-Anne Down is delightful as the endearing Georgina. As Lady Southwold – another treat to see Cathleen Nesbitt’s return – says, Georgina might have made a mess of things, but her actions show that she has a kind heart.
10. What the Footman Saw
I feel sorry for poor Edward in this episode, as it is clear that, despite his possibly flippant behaviour, he is a good-natured and very loyal young man. It is very pleasing to see his blossoming relationship with Daisy.
11. A Perfect Stranger
This is a wonderful episode! At last, poor Rose meets somebody. I really like the characterisation of Gregory; in the hands of Keith Barron, he is very convincing as a hard-working, passionate, hot-tempered, but honest and kind man, who proves himself worthy of Rose by being the only man to recognise her virtues. Once again, James proves reprehensibly insensitive, especially when he rather callously dismisses Rose as “not the marrying type” – it seems plain to me that what she needs above all is a husband and children for whom to care. The scene between Hazel and Rose is excellent, and beautifully acted by both Meg Wynn Owen and Jean Marsh; the latter’s performance throughout the episode is very moving. The moment when Gregory proposes is so poignant, as it is believable that poor Rose never expected to hear such words. How sweet of Edward to organise music as a farewell present!
12. Distant Thunder
The best episode of series three! This is splendid. The atmosphere is incredibly tense, and quite unnerving. As the drama unfolds, there is a sense that the whole house is collapsing and that Upstairs Downstairs could be coming to an end: James and Hazel’s marriage is in tatters, Richard has been evicted, and the servants are in turmoil. There are two particularly outstanding scenes: the argument between Rose and Hudson is one, and this, of course, mirrors the devastating kitchen-based scene between Hazel and James, where the tension literally boils over.
13. The Sudden Storm
It’s always welcome to see the treasured character actor, Frank Middlemass, who was ubiquitous in period dramas during the 1970s. I really find it quite touching that Georgina and Hazel have the thoughtfulness and generosity to decide to send the servants on a holiday – I doubt that any other upstairs character would have considered doing so. The seaside scenes and the scenes in the country with Georgina perfectly capture that carefree summer before the "sudden storm". Of course, the finale is excellent in its juxtaposition of Richard and Hudson’s toasts/prayers.
If anyone has got this far, please forgive me for such a long review!
Series Four
I was really looking forward to this series, and I’ve got through it very quickly. Rather than feeling radically different from previous episodes, as series three did, it provides a natural progression from the third series; except that, if anything, it is even better. What makes it the best series is the sense of purpose which the war gives it. What is again most interesting is the personal development of the characters; in series four, I’d particularly single out James, Georgina, Hudson, Rose, Edward, and Daisy, as they seem to be most affected by the horrific events of the war. Forgive me if I take this opportunity to go off topic and write a little about Georgina, as I find her, particularly in series four, one of the most fascinating characters in Upstairs Downstairs. At first, one could be forgiven for thinking that she is just a replacement for Elizabeth: another attractive young woman who will get into scrapes and cause the family scandal, whilst rebelling against the system. In fact, as she states in The Sudden Storm, she’s very different (and 100% more likeable and interesting, in my opinion). Unlike Elizabeth, Georgina does not pretend or strive to be what she is not, and she freely admits to enjoying all the parties and her carefree lifestyle. Something fundamental which sets her apart from both the Bellamy siblings is that Georgina does not suffer from boredom or an inability to see things through: after taking on nursing, she talks about how hard she finds it, and somebody suggests that she give it up – which, I think, is exactly what Elizabeth would have done – but she goes from strength to strength, winning admiration from her supervisors along the way. She is also very much a survivor and in possession of an essentially positive disposition. I think that she is very aware – remarkably so, for one so young – of how to survive emotionally, evinced in her attempts not to become involved with her young men, but also in her relationship with James. I believe that she is genuinely in love with James during the war, but in a rather immature and, as she herself calls it, “selfish” way. She contrasts Hazel’s selfless act of securing James a position in the front line – thereby putting his happiness above his safety – with her own belief that his safety is more important than anything else, as she couldn’t bear to lose him. I think that during the war she is completely deluded about James. Although she has matured tremendously because of her experiences, this one area of her life remains rather childlike. She seems to cherish some hope of magically running off with James to some haven away from reality – I think that she is probably quite hurt when James laughs off the idea of their engaging in a clandestine liaison in France – and then Hazel totally “bursts her bubble” when she comes to collect James from hospital. It is after this point, I think, that Georgina realises that she has to cure herself of her feelings for James, and the character at the end of series four is considerably different from the one at the beginning. I find her journey perhaps the most notable of all in this series. Needless to say, Lesley-Anne Down is luminous in the role, and she gives a performance of such surprising intelligence, warmth, and complexity that I feel very sorry that her subsequent career has descended into pretty much just trashy, low-budget films and trashy, low-budget soap operas. Sorry for writing at such length, but it shows just one example of the many fascinating strands of series four. Anyway, without further ado, here are my episode critiques:
1. A Patriotic Offering
This is quite a strong opening episode, although it introduces one of the most loathsome characters ever to appear in Upstairs Downstairs, in the shape of Lady Berkhamstead. It also paints Lady Prudence in a rather unpleasant light, as both characters demonstrate the hypocritical, self-righteous, and utterly delusional behaviour that was rife during the First World War, particularly amongst all those cosseted upper class women who went around indiscriminately distributing white feathers. I find it amusing that Richard comments on the idea of housing refugees’ becoming a way of acquiring the latest accessory. I was, however, not at all impressed with the complete lack of consideration displayed by both Richard and Hazel when they leave the servants to cope with the refugees; this is followed by Richard’s insensitive failure to understand Daisy’s dismay at catching lice; I think that he would have reacted rather differently if that had occurred upstairs. The “revelation” scene in which the characters are no longer “lost in translation” is moving, and I was pleased to see that Edward’s enlistment is based on his own decision; his remark about not being owned by his employers, or even Daisy, is important, as this is perhaps the first time that he has shown some independence.
2. News from the Front
This is a touching episode because of its depiction of Edward and Daisy’s engagement. The scene in the bioscope is wonderfully evocative, and the closing “bedroom” scene is surprisingly devoid of sentimentality; and is quite lovely because of its simplicity and honesty. It is interesting to contrast this honesty with the events upstairs where James is penalised for being too honest. I think that Richard is very wrong to collude with Sir Geoffrey in taking advantage of this honesty for his own ends.
3. The Beastly Hun
This is a very important episode in its depiction of Hudson. In series three, Hudson came full circle: beginning with his confidence receiving something of a jolt on account of his amazement at the rise of Hazel; this was followed by the shock of Lady Marjorie’s demise (from which he never truly recovers); his contemplation of leaving Eaton Place for Sommerby; all culminating in Distant Thunder, when Rose opened his eyes to the inexorable change which had taken place. However, just when it seemed that he’d have to face up to that changed world, along came the war, in order – as he sees it – to restore his old life. He seemed happier and more confident in the last scene of The Sudden Storm than he did at any other point in series three. As series four commences, he is more complacent and self-assured than ever, and nowhere is Hudson less likable than in this episode. The final scene is wonderful, providing one of Gordon Jackson’s finest moments, as he manages silently to convey Hudson’s newly rejuvenated confidence’s irreparable crumbling. It is moving to see Mrs Bridges, for once, feeling incapable of supporting Hudson; proof that he really has gone too far on this occasion.
4. Women Shall not Weep
The sequence at the railway station is one of the very best scenes in the whole of Upstairs Downstairs, particularly because of the impressive level of authenticity. The moment of Edward and Daisy’s farewell is genuinely poignant, especially as poor Edward strives to conceal his fear and sorrow, but then breaks down along with Daisy. Even more powerful, though, is Georgina’s pivotal moment of realisation that she cannot continue simply ignoring the war. On a lighter note, the scenes with Ruby’s resignation are very amusing, and also important for showing that things really must have changed if Ruby is suddenly in a position to resign.
5. Tug of War
Hazel’s action in this episode is perhaps the most touching example of selfless love – along with Richard’s behaviour during the Marjorie/Captain Hammond saga – in all of Upstairs Downstairs. Like her, I could understand James’s frustration and desire not to be excluded; it shows a noble side to his character. The scene in which Georgina laments about death, and James says that it is worse to see a woman die, makes an interesting point when Georgina replies that all loss/waste of human life is deplorable. I have to say that I think that Rose’s deceptive behaviour regarding the tram job is out of character.
6. Home Fires
This is one of my favourite episodes! I was delighted to see Gregory return, and one highlight is the moment when Rose persuades him to ingratiate himself with Hudson by discussing the war. I really do think that if Rose had married him, they would have been happy. It is especially pleasing to see how genuinely happy Richard and Hazel are for Rose. The last scene is another clear indicator of how things have changed: who would have imagined the Rose at the beginning of series one following in Sarah’s footsteps; out through the front door?
7. If You Were the Only Girl in the World
I like the way that this episode contrasts the relationships between Hazel and Jack Dyson, and James and Georgina. It seems to me that James and Hazel both find a kindred spirit in these other people, and it is ironic that they are able to achieve an understanding and state of peacefulness – amidst the ensuing horrors of the war – when they simply cannot attain this peace and understanding in their own marital relationship. This episode works wonderfully well as a fifty-minute wartime romance.
8. The Glorious Dead
This episode is breathtakingly powerful. As a writer, Elizabeth Jane Howard is the polar opposite of Fay Weldon, as, with just one attempt, she manages not only to pen the best episode of the sixty-eight which comprise Upstairs Downstairs, but also instinctively to understand all the characters. Her portrayals of the episode’s characters – Rose, Mrs Bridges, Hazel, James, Hudson, and Daisy – are all note-perfect. My single criticism would be that the séance scene is a bit too long, but, apart from that, every single scene is little short of a masterpiece. Jean Marsh, Simon Williams, Meg Wynn Owen, and Angela Baddeley all give their very best performances here, and what is most impressive is the way that many of the scenes carry the viewer far beyond the confined space of Eaton Place: we learn not just of the sad deaths of Gregory and Jack Dyson, but also of Mrs Bridges’ youth and lost love; Rose’s fears for her future; the sorry fate awaiting too many retired servants; the conflict between spiritualism and charlatanism; James’ terror at losing all faith in the justification of the war; Hazel’s discovery that she never really knew her husband; and more besides. It would take too long to rhapsodise over every wonderful scene, so I’ll single out just one: the scene between Rose and Hazel. What is so brilliant about it is that it begins with Rose in hysterics and Hazel’s suppressing her own grief in order to console Rose; then, at the end, the tables have turned completely, and the now calm Rose is asked to leave by Hazel before the latter bursts into tears. The episode is impeccable, both in conception and execution.
9. Another Year
This is another outstanding episode, boasting a fine performance from Christopher Beeny as poor Edward. It is also notable for the introduction of Hannah Gordon as Virginia, who makes a positive first impression; the gradually developing chemistry between her and Richard is a pleasure to watch. Finally, the closing scene with Hazel and Richard’s discussion about the two families at 165 Eaton Place is very astute, because I think that one can see these two “families” mingling more than ever before, and merging into one unit: witness the close friendship – there’s no other word to describe it – between Rose and Hazel; a far cry from the days of Lady Marjorie. This example is further supported by the lovely scene in Missing Believed Killed, in which Hazel and Mrs Bridges prepare food for James, and Hazel realises just how much James’s safety means to the servants.
10. The Hero’s Farewell
This episode is much lighter than any of the others, but it is welcome nonetheless. It is worth watching for the priceless sight of Lady Prudence dressed in “Hun” uniform, and for Fanny Rowe’s perfectly delivered line, “I do hope you haven’t got a scar; so tiresome for evening dress.” It is nice to see Phylidda Law – the mother of Emma Thompson – and the downstairs meal scenes are very amusing to watch. As Upstairs Downstairs has already dispatched major characters without compunction, the possibility that James has died is all too imaginable, and this revelation makes for the biggest cliff-hanger of an ending since Lady Marjorie took a certain voyage.
11. Missing Believed Killed
This is another first-rate episode which provides one of the best scenes in Upstairs Downstairs in the shape of its denouement. James’ words about his mother’s presence in the trenches brought a tear to my eye, as it seems so appropriate. One thing that I’ve noticed about the fourth series is the gradual “phasing out” of Lady Marjorie’s ghost – so palpable in series three – but at moments when it seems as though she’s been forgotten, the camera turns to her picture or, as in this instance, a character makes a profound remark about her, and one realises that in some ways she is still the very soul of Eaton Place.
12. Facing Fearful Odds
This is a sad episode which really highlights the many injustices of the war. In fact, even more perplexing than the plight of the Hamiltons is the possibility of Edward’s facing conscription or execution, after all his previous experiences.
13. Peace Out of Pain
This is an excellent finish to an excellent series. It would have been rather difficult to accept the survival of all the residents of 165 Eaton Place, but Hazel would not have been my first guess as the only one to die. Richard’s comment at the end about their family’s having suffered no more, but no fewer losses than any other family is interesting because, in fact, many families lost almost all male members. They were unusually lucky to have both James and Edward still alive. James’s guilt and regret at being a survivor is also important to bear in mind, although it is still hard to excuse his execrable behaviour towards Hazel and, to a lesser degree, Richard. I suppose that it is inevitable that Richard would remarry, but it could not have been handled with more taste and honesty than it is here. It is very touching to see him and Virginia, a genuinely well-matched pair, who are attracted to each other and excited about their future, yet mindful of what they have lost. With the war over, it feels as though the future of 165 Eaton Place is bleak indeed, and when Daisy decides that it is time for her and Edward to leave, her decision is understandable. Daisy has also undergone an interesting journey. Her very protective love for Edward has moulded her into a person who seems to feel that she has to fight her way through life, in order to avoid being trampled upon. This has made her sometimes very cruel and insensitive – her comments to Rose in The Glorious Dead; her lack of concern regarding Hazel’s funeral; etc. – but she is another example of someone who has had to grow up much too quickly, as a result of those four terrible years. I actually like Daisy a lot, and she and Edward are my favourite couple in the whole of Upstairs Downstairs. The “celebratory” scenes appear rather muted; it is as if everyone is worn out, and one can’t help recalling the scenes at the end of series three, in which the characters’ joy at the outbreak of war felt far more pronounced than their relief at its end.
Series Five
At last, I have finished re-watching series five, and indeed all of Upstairs Downstairs! Series five is largely a very well-developed continuation of the high standards of series three and four, but it doesn’t often reach the heights of those two series, and there is far more to be found in the way of holes and flaws. It is perhaps a little too ambitious to cover such a long period of eleven years – series two and three each cover only two years – and, of course, there is the issue of the characters’ ageing unconvincingly. This isn’t too big a problem for me, although I don’t think that the writers help themselves with their constant references to Georgina, Ruby, Daisy, and even Rose as “girls”, and Edward and even the greying James as “boys”. In Such a Lovely Man, Ruby is referred to as “over twenty-one,” which strikes me as rather strange, considering that she must be over thirty. For me, the most curiously ageless character is Sir Geoffrey Dillon: in the very last episode, Virginia talks of his still being alive – and working – when Robert’s father is dead. Will he ever even retire, let alone die? Anyway, like other viewers, I make up my own version of how old the characters are – in the cases where we are not told – so it doesn’t pose too much of an impediment to the general credibility of the programme. As to the content of series five, I think that it contains some very strong episodes, and some excellent examples of developing characterisation and plot, but there are also a few lazy and insipid episodes; I actually think that, not withstanding the longer time frame, the decision to do three additional episodes was a mistake. Anyway, here are my thoughts on the sixteen episodes themselves:
1. On With the Dance
This is a delightful opening episode. Surely every viewer feels the same as Georgina, James, and the servants, as they hope seemingly against hope that their days at 165 Eaton Place are not coming to an end. Having said that, I completely sympathise with Virginia, and I think that it is a very noble sacrifice on her part to put the wishes of everyone else above her own, and, what’s more, to do it with good humour. It seems that at every turn the writers always have the best interests, as it were, of 165 Eaton Place at heart: just as they introduced such perfect changes at the start of series three, the addition of Virginia, et al., seems to be exactly what the house and its current inhabitants needed.
2. A Place in the World
I find Hudson’s behaviour towards Edward and Daisy in the first two episodes astounding. Considering that he takes such umbrage at their having the temerity to maintain contact, it would appear as though he never wants to see them again; just because they left service! I’m astonished that he would be so callous. Yes, he does help to secure them both new jobs, but I still find his other actions inexcusable and unfathomable. The rest of the episode is excellent, though, and I’m not sure how I feel regarding Richard’s behaviour: is he wrong to discourage James, even though his intentions are good? I’m undecided… It is, of course, a very interesting segment in the development and downward spiral of James, which is the focal point of series five.
3. Laugh a Little Louder Please
The highlight of this episode, for me, is the chance to see the return of John Quayle as Bunny and Celia Bannerman as Diana; I do wish that they had been used more (in series four, for instance). Robin is charmingly portrayed by Osmund Bullock. The ending is really rather chilling and almost hauntingly memorable.
4. The Joy Ride
This episode is one of the best of series five: it is so well written, and the characters are fleshed out to an exceptional degree. The scenes between Richard and Prudence are wonderful. I find Richard’s paranoia over Virginia and James to be a brilliant point made by the writer, as the two of them do have a special rapport; it would be only natural for Richard to fear something deeper, only to curse himself for harbouring such thoughts. It is a very moving scene, and beautifully acted by David Langton and Joan Benham.
5. Wanted – A Good Home
I found this episode to be a rather dull example of mere filler. It is interesting perhaps to explore the concept of William’s being sent to school at such a young age, and those scenes at the beginning of the episode are quite touching. However, it all seems somewhat pointless, having nothing whatever to do with the main storylines of series five. I actually feel quite sorry for Miss Treadwell (well-played by Shirley Cain). Although undoubtedly too stuffy and strict a disciplinarian – and clearly not an animal lover – I think that she has the children’s best interests at heart, and she is treated rather badly by all concerned. Rose’s request to her to address her as “Miss Buck” is amusing, but I think that, taken as a whole, this episode is unnecessary, especially as it comes in the wake of four strong episodes.
6. An Old Flame
This is a very good episode. Firstly, James’s comment that his memories of Hazel are happy is touching; although that is questionable, considering that happy times were few and far between for them as a couple. Diana is, in some ways, not the most likable of characters, but I do like the fact that she is honest and candid about life. I really don’t think that she and James would have worked well together, but they both needed to get each other out of their systems, so to speak. The last scene between them is affecting, as is the one between Richard and Bunny. Georgina Hale provides a refreshing presence as Violet, and her scenes with Edward are enjoyable.
7. Disillusion
I get the impression that this episode ranks, in most people’s opinions, in the same league as Your Obedient Servant, Desirous of Change, and The Swedish Tiger as one of the least popular episodes. However, in my opinion, it is far superior to those other episodes, thanks to a sensitive script by Alfred Shaughnessy. I actually am able to believe in Hudson’s infatuation with Lily. I certainly do not think that this is one of the better episodes of Upstairs Downstairs, but nor do I think that it deserves such a bad reputation.
8. Such a Lovely Man
This is the weakest episode of series five. I have never found Ruby to be either appealing or interesting; therefore, I was not enthusiastic about the idea of giving her a more prominent role. As it is, the plot involving her romance is rather feeble. I also find Robert Hardy to be a very unreliable actor, as I have seen him give some very good performances, but he can also give very mannered, affected, and lazy performances. His turn in Upstairs Downstairs belongs to the latter description, unfortunately. I also find his character unpleasant. Polly Adams makes a nice guest appearance, though.
9. The Nine Days Wonder
I think that this episode is a somewhat underwhelming account of the General Strike – an historical event which I find fascinating – although the scenes with Hudson and Ruby’s uncle are very interesting; I like the morally ambiguous tone. Also, Prudence is terribly sweet in her attempts to be a sort of landlady.
10. The Understudy
This is a very enjoyable episode, and one of the three best of series five. The scenes with Hudson are very moving and convincing. They perfectly capture how hard it can be for people to learn that they are not indispensable. In previous episodes, I had thought that behind Frederick’s quiet veneer lurked a strong, tenacious character, and it is pleasing to see him come out of his shell. Of course, I am on Edward’s side, and I cheered both Georgina and Richard for championing him. I think that James is really very unfair to Edward, actually. I like the dinner party theme, as it hearkens back to the days of Lady Marjorie and all the glittering social whirl of Edwardian entertaining.
11. Alberto
I like that Frederick is developed still further in this episode, as I think that he illustrates so well the change in service. I really would love to know what happened to him afterwards… Perhaps he would go on to become a successful actor, or escort even… His last scene is one of my favourites in all five series. The scene between James and Prudence is poignant, and feels as though she is trying to do her duty to Marjorie by looking after James; it is rather lovely that he should confide in her about his feelings for Georgina, and that she should know instinctively. However, one problem that I have with this episode is the lack of continuity with the next two: Georgina tells Dolly that she never wants to see her again, yet later it seems as though nothing has changed.
12. Will Ye No Come Back Again
Considering that, of late, all we hear concerning Virginia is that she’s in Scotland, I think that it was a nice idea to set an episode in the Highlands; even though, for once, Virginia is not there! The storyline involving the McKays is a tad silly and, in any case, irrelevant, as the main point of the episode is the relationship between James and Georgina. Those scenes are admittedly excellent, but the majority of the episode feels like a bit of a waste of time.
13. Joke Over
I do not really like this episode much, even though it introduces the charming Robert, who is played by the even more charming Anthony Andrews. It seems to me that Rosemary Anne Sisson particularly enjoys writing for unpleasant characters: some of the most detestable characters have appeared in her episodes, and her portrayal of Georgina has her behaving as if she were a completely different person. Georgina’s behaviour regarding Edward seems especially puzzling. In Alberto, she scolded Dolly for her treatment of Frederick because she “hates to see servants embarrassed,” and Georgina is normally one of the friendliest, most polite and considerate of all the upstairs characters in her interactions with the servants. My other problem with this episode is Richard’s behaviour; in fact, that makes me angrier than anything else.
14. Noblesse Oblige
This episode boasts two wonderful guest appearances from Ursula Howells – always reliable – as Robert’s mother and Joan Sanderson – unforgettable in Fawlty Towers – as the termagant who employs Ruby. The scenes downstairs are very entertaining and interesting for what they reveal about the changing attitudes of servants: Mabel is clearly a product of her age, and quite similar to a lot of people today in her never failing to demand her rights. The blossoming relationship between Georgina and Robert is a joy to watch.
15. All the King’s Horses
This episode is superb, and very emotional. It is probably the second best episode of all five series. The only real flaw that I would mention is the housemaid Mary, whose presence feels invasive and inappropriate. Otherwise, there is not much to say, as the whole episode is written and acted with such rare expertise and sensitivity. Everything reaches a spectacular climax for James. The showdown between him and Richard is particularly outstanding, but then so too is the scene with Rose, after discovering her loss, and, of course, the devastating finale. David Langton’s reaction to the news of James’s fate is one of the best pieces of acting in Upstairs Downstairs: so beautifully understated, yet painfully real. It must have been strange for him to have been directed by his son, Simon Langton, considering the subject matter.
16. Whither Shall I Wander
This is a tour de force of a final episode. In fact, I’ve scarcely ever seen such a satisfying ending to a television drama. Incredibly tightly written, it is everything that a great production – as Upstairs Downstairs undoubtedly was – deserves. The opening scenes with Georgina and Robert are lovely, and her noble behaviour proves that she definitely is worthy of such a delightful young man. Virginia also deserves the highest plaudits for her decisive actions here. The marriage between “the Hudsons” seems thoroughly appropriate and not the slightest bit twee, as might have been feared, and the subsequent conversation between Virginia and Richard is one of my favourite moments in the whole production. It epitomises everything that a healthy relationship should have: honesty, understanding, tolerance, and affection. The last sequence with Rose could have come across as overly self-indulgent, but, in fact, it works perfectly. I really don’t think that Upstairs Downstairs could have ended in a better way.
This is awesome - must save to read before the boards go down on the Titanic!
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