Shropshire Star

Monday 7th November 2011, 3:28PM GMT.

Dame Maggie Smith was the Downton star once again

ITV confirmed over the weekend that it is to make a third series of Downton Abbey. Was there ever seriously going to be any doubt about it?

Disputes over historical inaccuracies, and grumblings about its increasingly ludicrous soap opera-style storylines, haven’t stopped this becoming the most successful Sunday night drama in a generation.

Series two hasn’t been nearly as entertaining, but has still raked in 11.5 million viewers. That’s more than the current series of the X Factor, and two million higher than Downton managed first time round, when it first took the Sunday night schedules by storm.

This time last year, that first Downton series ended with the outbreak of World War 1, leaving the audience positively salivating for more. This one, which culminated in the arrest of Bates, the trouble magnet butler, downgraded that feeling to one of merely gentle curiosity.

And yet, in the space of that final 90-minute episode, we had a wedding that went ahead, a wedding that didn’t, a funeral, an eloping couple and a Spanish flu outbreak which threatened to wipe out half the Downton household. Oh, and an illegitimate child which was nearly adopted, then wasn’t.

You can’t fault writer Julian Fellows for effort. If he ramps up the pace any further in series three, the poor folk in the big posh house will be racing round the grounds like victims of a Benny Hill sketch.
And yet, amidst all the Mills and Boon-style shenanigans, bit-part player Dame Maggie Smith was calmly stealing the show.

Her dowager countess would gleefully pickpocket her scenes with a carefully considered, acid-tongued putdown, delivered like a stuck-up grannie sucking a feisty lemon.

Some of the supposed drama has skirted very close to unintentional comedy these past few weeks.
Everyone knows Lady Mary belongs with Downton’s heir Matthew – the bloke who made one of the greatest comebacks since Lazarus when he was paralysed one day, and leaping from his wheelchair the next.

But they also know series three will contrive to keep them apart once again. He’s wracked with guilt after his other woman snuffed it, and she’s betrothed to a cold fish media mogul.
Downton has been dismissed by some as “Crossroads with posh frocks”. That’s a little harsh, but the increasingly far-fetched stories certainly seemed to come and go in series two faster than a fake feud on the X Factor judging panel.

In fact, where the debut series invited us to simply luxuriate over a different class of people, with different social values, in a different time, this one barely gave us chance to pause for breath and consider the polite values which many feel have been sadly lost in Britain today.
Whatever people say, though, Downton Abbey remains the most loved, and talked-about drama of its time, striking a chord with a loyal army of viewers.

And while we continue to talk about it, you can be sure the producers will continue to supply fresh ammunition.

And that includes, for devotees who can’t wait until next year, a one-off Christmas special. Let’s hope the BBC don’t make the same mistake they did with Spooks, and try to put one of their own big-hitters against it in a battle for prime-time loyalty. There will only be one winner.
By Carl Jones