"None of that behaviour in my kitchen"... Watching 'Upstairs, Downstairs'

[Mel O'Drama]

Series Five
Will Ye No Come Back Again / Joke Over​

There’s some nice location work in both these episodes, with the first episode featuring the Scottish Highlands, some 640 miles from Eaton Place. According to the info, Gordon Jackson was the only series regular who did the location work. I can’t say this affected the way I viewed it, since it still felt very much like a change of scene. But it does explain the rather curious “Scottish” accents used by some of the guest actors, one of which sounded decidedly East European.

Something Will Ye No Come Back Again has in abundance is atmosphere. The gloomy, moody large interior spaces look very established, but also creaky and old. With the lack of electric lighting most of the time, oil lamps cast long shadows and add to the gothic tone. Many of these interiors feel rather Christiesque. There’s even a ghost story thrown in.

And there’s an honest-to-goodness mystery, with strange noises and occurrences and characters behaving oddly. All of which turns out to be due to a salmon poaching business going on.

This being UpDown, the most interest comes not from the mystery itself but from the response to it - specifically Hudson’s. He investigates single-handedly and so it becomes a collusion between Hudson and viewer, though we still don’t know what he’s going to do with the information. At End Of Part Two, he alone walks in and catches the poachers red-handed and it seems almost foolish for him to have done this without having someone with him (if not Richard or James, then Edward). But it's worth it for the following scene, in which he gets to the bottom of it, and speaks one-to-one with McKay, sternly berating him for his lack of loyalty to his master (Hudson's measure as consistent as ever) before presenting his terms and reaching a gentleman’s agreement.

The entire arc shows Hudson at his most resourceful and assertive, and it feels truthful because behind it is his unwavering ethic of loyalty to one’s household. In one fell swoop, he all but blackmails McKay into doing the right thing and suddenly Mrs Bridges has power and light in the kitchen (as well as a suddenly-willing local woman), James is catching salmon and the Bellamys are once again enjoying the refinements they are used to. It’s another of those episodes where the other characters don’t know what Hudson has done, leaving us to appreciate his unsung efforts. It’s even more impressive given that he and McKay end up respecting one another and there’s a genuine warmth between them that gives the viewer, too, a warm glow.

The episode also brings the James/Georgina (damn it - I’m still writing “Elizabeth” and having to change it) business to a head, with James putting his romantic feelings on the table only for Georgina to tell him she simply hasn’t those feelings for him anymore. Once again, there’s secrecy involved. Since they can’t tell anyone else, their conversation has to halt whenever Richard walks into the room. By episode’s end, James has fled, first back to London and then overseas, ostensibly to visit Elizabeth. Only Georgina knows that he’s running from her.

By the next episode, though, Georgina is back in full carefree flapper mode, partying all night with her chums and stealing policeman’s helmets and parlourmaid’s caps and suchlike for a giggle. The scene in which they all drunkenly ransack the servants’ hall really gets across the entitlement and lack of care with which at least some of these people view those who work for them.

Hudson, having been disturbed by them in the wee smalls, is then required to dress and serve them all drinks, and there’s a delightfully awkward scene in which Georgina tells him he can go to bed and they’ll serve themselves. He dutifully says that he’ll be happy to continue and goes to open the second bottle of champagne, only for Georgina to bark at him again to go to bed. There’s a sense that Georgina does this out of guilt that he is up, and out of concern for him, but the way in which she does it makes things worse.

Edward’s in it even deeper. Having offered to drive Elizabeth and her friends when she’d woken him at 3am demanding the car keys, she and her friends pull rank and order him to hand over the keys for Georgina to drive. Then she knocks a man off his bike and he ends up dying.

That Georgina doesn’t seem to consider the full gravity of the situation, even as she goes to a hearing, is perhaps as much a sign of the times as it is her entitled position. While a Criminal Justice Act relating to operating mechanical vehicles while drunk was introduced in 1925 - some three years before this episode’s time setting - it would be another two years before the 1930 Road Traffic Act relating to driving under the influence. The legal drink driving limit was still four decades away. What’s more, Richard, Virginia and Sir Geoffrey shield her from the implications. The potential charge of manslaughter is mentioned away from Georgina’s ears.

There’s something of an arc for Georgina at episode’s end, with her bursting into tears back at home as the consequences of her actions begins to sink in (the verdict is “accidental death”, but Georgina is still reprimanded for her part in things), but once again it feels rather retrogressive, almost as though her growth during Series Four has been forgotten. But perhaps that’s the point. People’s growth isn’t always linear and, frustrating as they are, setbacks and not learning from experience are simply part of the journey.

Downstairs, this is another cracker of an episode for Edward who is initially held responsible by Richard and then considers giving notice and leaving. Perhaps most eyebrow-raising isn’t that Edward is prepared to walk out of his job, but that he is also prepared to leave Daisy behind. There’s a reprieve when Richard is enlightened by Georgina and apologises to Edward for his error, but I wonder where Edward and Daisy will be by series’ end.

Lady Dolly was supremely irritating in this episode. I found the writing a little extreme around her here. I appreciate someone needs to represent the entitled, irresponsible heiress, but her conduct in court - laughing as they discussed the incident in which they killed someone, and treating her time on the stand as a joke - just seemed OTT. Even if she was coked-up or whatever, it seemed rather caricature-like. But then, Rosemary Anne Sisson is a writer I trust to know her subject matter well, so perhaps it’s a case of truth being even more extreme than fiction.

There were a couple of other notables among the wags. Anthony Andrews made his debut as the dashing hero of the hour - the only one who stood by Georgina in her hour of need. The image on the DVD menu tells me exactly where this is going (fancy spoiling one of the series’ last big stories on every disc in Series Five), but it’s good to see him. He feels very familiar, and I suppose it’s from Brideshead. Even though I’ve never actually watched a full episode, it’s just one of those things that’s so well-known even those who’ve never watched will know the faces. Also present was a very young charmer, Nigel Havers.

Just three episodes remain, which feels rather exciting.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Series Five
Noblesse Oblige / All The King’s Horses / Whither Shall I Wander?​

Mrs Bridges’ treatment of Ruby has always had me shaking my head a little, mostly because of how profoundly guilty she was about her treatment of Emily following the latter’s suicide. Yes, over two decades have passed since then in screen-time, but the insults and put-downs began pretty much immediately. I suppose it’s a sad reflection of human nature at times.

Despite being a very low-key, rather secondary, character Ruby has remained very watchable and enjoyable. There’s something very appropriate about the kitchen maid having her place low down the pecking order. I’ve enjoyed the few little deviations - from working at the munitions factory to dabbling in romance - which have given her some life experience, and I’ve missed her in those times when she’s not around.

For all she puts up with from Mrs Bridges, Ruby has her limits. Noblesse Oblige is one episode in which Ruby reaches those limits and simply walks out. What’s most satisfying about this episode is that both Ruby and Mrs Bridges get their “wishes” - a taste of life away from one another - and neither likes it.

The new kitchen maid is Mabel who at first appears meek and willing but quickly proves to be lazy, loud and rude. She’s sent on her way by a slap on the face from Daisy which - to my amusement - practically gets a cheer from Mrs Bridges and Edward. The only shame is that Mr Hudson wasn’t around to deal with her.

Meanwhile, Ruby gains employment in a more middle class household where she is treated badly and run ragged doing pretty much everything (a truthful representation, by all accounts). Thankfully, her new employer is the formidable Joan Sanderson who spends her entire time with nostrils flared and eyebrows raised high at Ruby’s ineptitude. Her confidante is Deddie Davies, another of those wonderful familiar faces who’s been in pretty much everything (seen most recently in O’Dramavision in The Upper Hand and A.J. Wentworth, BA), so these scenes away in unfamiliar territory are very watchable indeed.

Best of all comes a meeting of battleaxes when Mrs Bridges comes to confront Sanderson’s Mrs Waddilove over her treatment of Ruby. By this point, it feels completely in character for Mrs Bridges to rescue Ruby now that it’s convenient for her, but underneath it all is a kind of fondness. Something similar happens in the final episode where Mrs Bridges Hudson proposes she and Angus should take Ruby with them to their new boarding home by the sea, which she tries to frame as “Christian charity”, although Hudson’s observation that she’ll be needed to do the more menial work is probably more on the money.

A key story arc running through all three episodes is the romance between and engagement of Georgina and Robert, Marquis Of Stockbridge. His family don’t seem to approve (natural enough, given recent events for Georgina) which gives us a wonderfully frosty meeting between Georgina and Robert’s mother, the Duchess Of Buckminster - played by Ursula “Father Dear Father” Howells. The Duchess is perhaps as close as we’ve got to Marjorie since her departure and so feels like we’re further coming full circle.

There’s a slightly familiar arc where Robert is sent away by his family but eventually returns to announce his parents’ scheme was done to test him rather than her, since they weren’t sure he was ready for the responsibility. And that’s that. Just in time to wrap up the series with a big wedding. But not before another tragedy.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Noblesse Oblige / All The King’s Horses / Whither Shall I Wander?
continued

​

The date "October 1929" rang a bell when it appeared onscreen at the beginning of All The King’s Horses, but it didn’t click with me until a few minutes in and James - returning on a high from having some investments come in while in the States - mentioned Wall Street. I then immediately remembered that October 1929 was the Wall Street Crash, and while that didn’t come to fruition until later in the episode, it added a layer of horror to my viewing as I watched James enjoy his newfound wealth and even more so when Rose came to him asking him for help investing the inheritance she had from Gregory Wilmot.

To say emotions were running high is an understatement. Given the culture established under Lady Marjorie’s watchful eye in the Edwardian era, it still feels very shocking and rather wrong to hear raised voices in the house, but that’s exactly what we got here. Following his discovery of James’s investment of Rose’s money, there’s a clash between Richard and James so ugly and intense that they even miss luncheon. And James, having ruminated on the discussion overnight, departs “to spend a few days in the country”. It’s a nice touch that as he leaves, James asks after Rose’s wellbeing, and Hudson spares his feelings with a tactfully diplomatic response that she’ll be fine and they’ll look after her - without mentioning that she’s disappeared from the house in tears.

Rose returns in upbeat mood, having decided she can do without the money. But it’s James who doesn’t return at all. While I didn’t know exactly where the story was going, everything fell into place for me when two police officers came to the door late at night. James’s suicide shows that the series can still deliver some knockout blows and take the viewer’s death away. It may not have been entirely unexpected, but it certainly shocked and pulled the rug out from under.

James’s death; Georgina’s marriage; Richard’s retirement from politics… It’s most definitely the end of an era. But it’s the sale of the house to recoup some of James’s debts that tells us, the viewer, that it’s also the end of the series. All manner of changes have been overcome, but the house has been a constant and it’s unthinkable that UpDown could continue without it.

There’s a lovely moment for Virginia in light of Georgina’s financial difficulty ahead of the wedding (James had made her the main beneficiary of his will, but there was nothing left to inherit due to his debts). Virginia gives Sir Geoffrey a cheque for £2000 of her own money and asks him to lie to Georgina by telling him that this amount had been found as an asset of James’s which would come to her (Georgina). Virginia convinces the reluctant Sir Geoffrey that it’s in his interests to do so because it means Georgina will be a titled woman in need of his services. Given Hannah Gordon’s similarity to Stephanie Beacham, it felt like a very Sable Colby moment, even if Virginia’s motives were altruistic.

The house being sold off to convert into flats was a reminder that this was the time when households of this kind really was at an end, and it would have pushed credulity for the series to continue much beyond this point.

Given that everyone was forced to go their separate ways, the series ending was just neat and tidy enough for me. I could fully believe that Rose would remain with Richard and his wife, downsizing to Dorset. And that Edward and Daisy would be taken on by Georgina and Robert. Hudson and Mrs Bridges’ marriage was a nice touch, and their moving to run a guest house in Hastings feels like something that’s been on the horizon for a long time.

Each of these premises feels like there’s gold to be mined in terms of spinoffs, and a little digging shows that a couple were seriously considered. The series with the Hudsons and Ruby at their Hastings guest house only fell through, it seems, because of Angela Baddeley’s death shortly after the final UpDown aired. And there was talk of a spinoff with Frederick trying his luck. So much potential, now left entirely to the imagination (there was one spinoff, though, and I’ll come to that very shortly).

The most powerful sequence of the final episode, and one that will stay with me for a long time, was Rose’s final walk round the empty house, hearing flashes of dialogue that had taken place over the years. Today it feels like a fairly standard - if effective - way of doing things, and so felt familiar. I recall a similar scene in a later Knots Landing episode as Val walked round her old house. Even Scream 3 had a similar audio flashback while in a familiar setting. I’m sure there’s something even more similar that I can’t quite place. Given this was 1975, and before any other example I can think of, I can’t help wondering if UpDown’s effective, poignant and memorable ending is a big part of the reason such scenes have become the standard.

I’ve mixed feelings about the series coming to an end. I’ll miss it greatly, but I also feel it’s reached a natural end and so it’s time. But perhaps it just feels that way because the writing has got us to this point so perfectly.

UpDown has become one of the best parts of my day for the last two months or so, and I’m very glad that after all these years I’ve finally been able to see what the fuss is about.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Since it's so brief and I'm over 75% of the way through, I'll jot a few thoughts about the spinoff in here:

Thomas & Sarah

Birds Of A Feather / The Silver Ghost / The Biters Bit / The Vanishing Lady / Made In Heaven / Alma Mater / A Day At The Metropole / The Poor Young Widow Of Peckham / There Is A Happy Land / Return To Gethyn​

It’s helped me to read before watching that this series is quite a different animal from its predecessor and was rather poorly received as a result. This meant my expectations were well and truly in check when beginning to watch.

In terms of chronology, it’s interesting that this series - shown years after UpDown ended - begins in the gap between UpDown Series Two and Three, with later episodes taking place at the same time as UpDown’s Third Series. The most recent, Return To Gethyn, takes place in Winter 1912, meaning Thomas’s brief-but-eventful return to Wales coincided with Alfred’s brief-but-eventful return to Eaton Place. This means T&S is effectively all a flashback. A "midquel", if you like.

The series also begins some revisionism: as they left UpDown, the two were said to be married and expecting a baby. As T&S begins they’re separated (the wedding never having taken place) and Sarah - we eventually learn - has miscarried. It almost feels like retcon territory, but not quite. We never saw them tie the knot and, as the series goes along, we see them posing regularly as Mr & Mrs Watkins, so it’s easy to view their final visit to Eaton Place was a trial run for this.

If I had any feeling at all of what the series might be, I’d have guessed at a series of episodes akin to The Property Of A Lady from Series Two of UpDown. I wasn’t that far off the mark.

With the episodes being quirky, eclectic and somewhat random I initially viewed it as a high class sitcom. By the time T&S was a third of the way through, though, it felt more like a series of pilot episodes: as though the writers had pitched different ideas and they’d all ended up being filmed. There have been numerous changes of direction and it feels quite jarring.

The first episode had Sarah established in one setting with the supporting players in her household. By the second she’d moved on and Thomas’s world became hers. Fine, I thought, thinking I understood that the regular supporting characters consisted of loveably hapless assistant mechanic Tubby (the series’ equivalent of Ruby, it seems) and Madge (played by Maria Charles who annoyed the hell out of me in Never The Twain but was tolerable enough here). A couple of episodes later, though, and they’d vanished over the horizon as Thomas and Sarah moved on to pastures new.

Simply put, there is no ensemble. The only familiar faces in each episode are the two leads, meaning that the series succeeds or fails almost entirely on the charms of two actors. Were many of these scenes or stories incorporated into UpDown, with cuts away to other characters and situation, it might be a different matter. Here we get an overdose of Collins and Alderton and, while both of them are decent actors with good screen presence, this is an unfortunate case of familiarity breeding contempt. It cannot be avoided when both are onscreen more or less 100% of the time. Some familiar faces have helped (even Thora Hird’s done a guest-starring bit), but it’s not enough to stop the series from feeling like a bit of a vanity project for the two leads.

The situations also seem quite extreme. One episode sees them running a matrimonial bureau from an affluent house. In the next Thomas is a teacher in a school (while no doubt a bit of a nod to one of Alderton’s best-known roles, it actually feels more A.J. Wentworth, BA. than Please Sir!). In one episode they own a haberdashery. Then they don’t. There’s The One Where Thomas Becomes A Racing Driver; The One Where Thomas Almost Dies Of Pneumonia (with such uncomfortably realistic gasping and wheezing and loud swallowing that I stopped caring about the outcome as long as it happened quickly and quietly); The One Where Sarah Lies About Being Pregnant… etc, etc. Much of the time it’s not always clear how they got into these situations, or even to believe it of them. I never felt there was a good reason, for example, why Thomas would step in to expose corruption at a public school at great risk to himself and with nothing to gain other than doing the right thing. It just didn’t compute.

Perhaps because of these situations, the characterisations seem to differ greatly as well. It’s really hard to get a handle on Thomas in particular, since he can be affable and passive or calculating and cruel to order.

The disparate, almost experimental nature reminds me, in a way, of Knots Landing’s third season. And just as that yielded some gold, so has T&S.

The last few episodes have seemed a little less disposable. I don’t know whether this is a case of the series beginning to improve or me settling into it. The entire arc in Wales, with Sarah discovering that Thomas not only has a child born out of wedlock but is also possibly a rapist was compelling enough. Yes, the “twist” that Thomas’s religious zealot of a brother was actually the rapist could be seen coming from a mile away, but it still felt satisfying to watch it play out.

There Is A Happy Land saw some of T&S’s most compelling scenes following Thomas’s discovery that Sarah had lied to him when saying she was pregnant. His payback is arguably the series’ finest moment. The setting is perfect: a dinner party where Sarah hopes to make a good impression on important and wealthy members of their new community (who believe her to be Thomas’s wife). He begins by casually-but-pointedly dropping into the conversation that Sarah is a former music hall singer who met him while they were both servants. He then delivers his club de grace by telling everyone present - now watching in shocked silence - that he hopes Sarah will do him the honour of marrying him before their baby is born. It’s one of those winners that makes the whole series worth the investment.

The following scene reaps the benefits of Thomas being written with such wild variations from episode to episode. Because he is now so unpredictable, the scene where he speaks with a darkly intense tone, occasionally breaking into a shout is rather unsettling. By the time he removes his belt and starts lashing out at objects with it as he approaches Sarah, it really feels that all bets are off and anything can happen.

The few links with UpDown have been welcome. There’s the Rolls Royce, frequent mentions of their time at Eaton Place and the Bellamys. Sarah’s squeezed in a rendition of What Are We Gonna Do With Uncle Arthur? and briefly revived her Clemence Dumas pseudonym.

The sliding scale of time - with the series being made some time after UpDown but has allowed for a few little errors in chronology, though. As an example, in Return To Gethyn, Sarah mentions working for Lord Bellamy, but since the episode takes place in 1912 (early 1913 at the very latest) and Richard didn’t become a Viscount until New Year 1917 this is but one of the small-but-glaring anachronisms.

Perhaps knowing there are only a few episodes left is helping me appreciate it while it’s here. I can’t say I feel invested, but it’s not been without its good points and so I look forward to seeing how it wraps up the story.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Thomas & Sarah
Putting On The Ritz / The New Rich / Love Into Three Won’t Go
​

Putting On The Ritz is one of those episodic shows that in some ways feels as though it could be written for any number of series - or, indeed, as a standalone theatrical piece - while at the same time feeling perfectly in-keeping with T&S since the series’ main characters are dodgy schemers whose word can rarely be trusted.

It is very play-like, with a relatively small main cast playing several “characters” (since nobody is who they seem) and three defined acts. It doesn’t feel like an essential episode nor a great one, but it works and there’s also a welcome continuity with the house they “inherit” at the end of this episode providing the following episode’s backdrop.

Ritz introduces the theme of Upstairs Downstairs: Through A Glass Darkly with several characters (including the returning Tubby) posing as household staff - butler; footman; maid - yet being terribly inept because they have no experience of service. The satirical series of faux pas seem at times to be almost mocking UpDown’s very premise. At the very least, it lacks reverence for the all-important order and hierarchy.

The New Rich continues this theme but explores it in a more satisfying way. This time the staff are real, and there’s a suitably passive-aggressively frosty butler, Wilson attempting to make order out of the chaos. Played by the wonderful Nigel Hawthorne, Wilson has Hudson’s knack for sucking the warmth and life from a room simply by being present, as well as his haughty disdain for those beneath him and his intolerance of those who don’t toe the line.

He’s not the only familiar character template: there’s the opinionated cook Mrs Ambrose; the amiable footman; the cheerful parlourmaid and Nelly the timid kitchen girl (played by Linda Robson, pre-Harvey Moon).

The big twist here is that the upstairs characters here are none other than Sarah and Thomas. And what better way to show they’ve “made it” than to bring things full-circle. While this turn of events would have been unthinkable in UpDown, this is the point here. It’s in the episode title, and the pair’s lack of social graces and propriety is frowned upon by Wilson and Mrs Ambrose, both coming from “best houses”. Mrs Ambrose’s hackles are raised when Sarah tries to be nice to her, which doesn’t sit well. Meanwhile, Wilson is horrified when Thomas asks him to take a seat in the drawing room, which just isn’t done.

The strokes in this series are far broader than those in UpDown. There’s less subtlety and nuance, and with that accepted it’s quite fun to see what happens when the order of things established so well in UpDown is thrown into turmoil when “upstairs” haven’t had the memo.

The final straw for Wilson is when arrives back at the house to discover that Thomas and Sarah have sneaked downstairs and enjoyed champagne and records with their own staff and those from next door. Thinking about it, this scenario is the exact reverse of that seen back in UpDown’s Board Wages where Sarah encouraged the downstairs staff to sneak up. Eight-and-a-half years on (in screen chronology. Seven-and-a-half in “real world” time) and Sarah hasn’t lost her thirst to see what’s on the other side.

In Thomas & Sarah, she finds out pretty quickly. A combination of financial losses and the house owner returning means that they are both out on their arses by episode’s end, setting up their return to service in the final episode.

continued...​

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Putting On The Ritz / The New Rich / Love Into Three Won’t Go
continued​

On paper, the plot of Love Into Three Won’t Go is traditional soap. As the title suggests, it eventually unfolds into your archetypal love triangle and [spoiler alert] the series even ends with a cliffhanger visual that would later become associated with one of the Big Four nighttime soaps.

The way it gets there, though, is another matter. I didn’t see any of the latter part of the episode coming because I was too wrapped up in the story.

Anton Rodgers has been a bit of a revelation to me in the last months. Up until then I’d really known him as the middle-aged, middle-class cosy sitcom lead in Fresh Fields, its sequel French Fields and May To December. I must confess I’d thought of him as rather stuffy. His appearance as the roué who painted Sarah in another classic b/w UpDown episode (the first regular episode, in fact: The Mistress And The Maids) begin to challenge my perceptions. And any old ideas were blown out of the water having watched Scrooge a couple of weeks ago and seeing him play cheeky cockney Tom, joyously singing Thank You Very Much and dancing (extremely well) on top of Scrooge’s coffin as it was pulled through the streets.

Now he’s back in the world of UpDown and once again involved with Sarah. His character - Richard De Brassey - has a great arc. The first act of the episode feels extremely gothic . We open with the pair arriving at a rundown mansion at night in the pouring rain, to discover their new master as drunk and disagreeable as can be (indeed, he’s positively Dickensian once again). Then he has a horseback accident when a gun is fired (one of many Eighties soap precursors) and nearly dies. Sarah and Thomas stay to clean up both De Brassey and the house and things begin to change. He forms a bond with Sarah and reveals that his young daughter was killed in a house fire several years earlier and she is drawn to him. Thus comes the love triangle.

What makes this triangle feel fresh even today are the shades of grey. Sarah is the unfaithful partner; De Brassey “the other man” and Thomas the injured party. However, none of these are played as archetypes. Sarah’s conduct feels the most questionable, but it’s not just a question of her infidelity so much as her motivation in moving her affair forwards. If anyone engineers the situation, it’s Sarah. One really feels she could be attracted to De Brassey because of the wounded bird thing he has going on while at the same time recognising that he’s a vulnerable and very wealthy man and Sarah is a natural schemer out to better herself. If anything, De Brassey feels like a victim in all this. Certainly, Thomas isn’t.

Thomas’s response to the situation is perhaps the most refreshing of all. He begins his own game play, manipulating both Sarah and De Brassey with guilt trips and mind games, appearing at times to almost be enjoying it. The way he operates and the little looks he gives when nobody else can see bring to mind JR Ewing. Reinforcing this, also appears to be one step ahead of everyone else and his responses are extremely measured. There’s a terrific moment where, over breakfast, guilty Sarah and De Brassey break the news about their affair and De Brassey’s proposal and in the moment where the revelation comes, Thomas simply continues stirring his tea with no flicker of emotion until he’s ready to respond. I really like this unpredictable Thomas who feels very in step with the man we met back in The New Man.

Before watching, I had a low-key spoiler in knowing that the series ended on a cliffhanger and that it involved fire but, even so, with this airing before end-of-season cliffhangers were really a thing (Who Shot JR? was still a year away when T&S ended), I was really not expecting it to be a life-and-death scenario where we don’t know who lives and who dies. But that’s exactly what we got.

It was exciting enough that there was a fire in the barn, with Thomas said to be inside trying to rescue the horses. Ending there would have been a decent enough cliffhanger. But then De Brassey ran in to try and save him and both lives were in jeopardy as Sarah watched helplessly. This foreshadows perhaps two significant Dynasty cliffhangers as well as one seen in Sons And Daughters and probably Dallas too). would have been a really good point for the cliffhanger.

But then it goes all Falcon Crest on us… there’s a time jump and we cut to a funeral with a coffin being lowered into the ground as Sarah grieves. We don’t find out the name of the dead man, but neither Thomas nor De Brassey are present. I haven’t even seen the FC cliffhanger, but this moment is well-known enough for me to know of it (it was even voted Telly Talk’s #1 Eighties Soap Cliffhanger by us just three months ago) and this is pretty much exactly as I pictured that, frame-by-frame.

Had it come a few years later, it would have seemed like a greatest hits of well-known season finale cliffhangers. Who’d have thought this short-lived British period drama would have done one of the first end-of-season cliffhangers before the format was popularised by the US soaps a short time later.

Apparently a third series was not only planned, but had begun to be shot with some exteriors. Would I have liked more closure for the end to the world of UpDown. Yes. But I must admit that I wouldn’t have relished the idea of trawling through too many episodes and feel I’ve seen enough.

And… since it finished with loose ends, it’s pleasing that it did so with such spectacular, inventive dramatic flair. I’m still reeling.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Incidentally, the bonus material - two short Gloria Hunniford interviews from the late-Eighties - is welcome, but seems a little odd. Pauline is there to promote Shirley Valentine and there's no mention of UpDown or T&S.

In his interview, John Alderton is about to tour with the Richard Harris play The Maintenance Man along with Gwen Taylor and Susan Penhaligon. He does at least touch briefly touch on UpDown, saying how much fun it was to play a villain. In a further tie-in to Eighties soaps (which were very much in the public consciousness by this point) he says how much he enjoyed killing Joan Collins in Tales Of The Unexpected, going on to mention that Pauline also killed Joan the following week). And, naturally, there's an update of Pauline who he's just packed off to a Disney theme park in America as a surprise for the kids.

I'm guessing no contemporaneous interviews could be found, and these are certainly better than nothing, even if the questions are typically shallow and banal for a daytime show with a remit to be as inoffensive as possible. And they weren't entirely uninformative. Who'd have thought that Cher had been the first choice to play Shirley Valentine Stateside before high-ups were convinced to watch Pauline in the role. The idea of Cher delivering Willy Russell dialogue is... intriguing.

 

[James from London]

Oh yes. The performances completely carry things and I find the occasional little flaws in the series very endearing. There's a cracking example in the Suffragette episode where Marion Yeats slams Rose into the wall of their prison cell and the whole thing totters precariously as though made from styrofoam and corn flake boxes.

These limitations really work in the series' favour. Everything is practical and can't be freshened up with special effects afterwards, which means there's attention to detail. It sounds like a paradox, but every bit of the series' fakery is real, which makes it feel more tangible and substantial. And they add to the play-like element.

Like you, I thoroughly enjoy the stagey feel of the series, and James perfectly described it as being partly a comedy of manners. At times it's like having a front row seat to a performance of a Coward play.

I came across a thread on Twitter this morning that reminded me of this discussion. The fella makes some really interesting points, even though I always recoil from the argument or mindset that "everything was better then":

https://twitter.com/i/web/status/1644258813036339202

 

[Mel O'Drama]

I came across a thread on Twitter this morning that reminded me of this discussion. The fella makes some really interesting points, even though I always recoil from the argument or mindset that "everything was better then"

Oh yes. It's certainly got some details I don't think I knew before - in fact I'll need to read it again at some point to absorb some more of it.

The "Electronic Theatre*" appeal certainly extends to my current Xrds viewing. In the era I'm watching the "as live" filming has been perfected and every single VTR board has been "Take One" for many, many months' worth of episodes. Not that you'd know from watching since there are very few visible fluffs or gaffes.




* I'm grateful that this thread has come up again since it's reminded me of the term "Electronic Theatre" which you I hadn't heard until you mentioned it.

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Jean Marsh has died at the age of 90.

Just a couple of days ago I posted this video in the Kenneth Williams thread. It's a recitation of one of KW's letters, retelling a true story he'd heard from Jean herself:

 

[Barbara Fan]

RIP Jean Marsh
She was a co creator of the show with Eileen Atkins, another good actress x

 

[Mel O'Drama]

Jean Marsh has died at the age of 90.

And now Pauline Collins at 85.

Here's a life in pictures (even if The Guardian will insist on referring to actresses as "actors" which always sounds as daft as it does pretentious ).