‘Downton Abbey’ Recap, Season Five, Episode Two: Old-Timey Birth Control And Art Deals

Where to Stream:

Downton Abbey

Powered by Reelgood

Welcome back, team! Fasten your seatbelts, we’ve got some slow-burn plot development to get through after last week’s action-packed season premiere. But what do you expect? You can’t light the abbey on fire every week.

Overall it was a fun episode, though, if not exactly a thrill-ride. Carson and Donk argue about the war memorial, Mary deals with early-20th-century birth control, and Rose gets something she wants. The Dowager Countess is sadly absent for almost the whole episode. Oh, and that wretched Ms. Bunting finally earns her spot on the show! Let’s get to it, shall we?

The War Memorial

Donk and Carson go on a walkabout with some townsfolk, trying to decide where to put the war memorial. Donk feels like the memorial should go in the center of town, Carson wants it in the middle of a peaceful cricket patch. This is roughly as high as the stakes are going to get this week, just FYI.

“Which is more important,” asks Nameless Townsfolk Woman, “a game of cricket, or the loss of a son in the course of his duty?” Donk is like, “[Silent reflection].”

We Need to Talk About Barrow (it’s in my contract)

Barrow says goodbye to Jimmy, the closest thing he has to a friend, because Donk caught Jimmy fooling around with his old boss last week during the fire. Jimmy reminds us all that being gay is totally OK, telling Barrow, “We have been friends, and I’m sad to see the back of you.” Which is a sweet thing to say but an awful choice of words. Barrow is like, “Well you can write me a letter maybe?” and Jimmy is like, “Nah I’m good bro but thanks.”

Jimmy hopes Barrow finds some happiness. I hope he gets cast on another TV show. “I don’t think I’m very likeable to people here,” Barrow opines gloomily to Anna. That she doesn’t roll her eyes or giggle uncontrollably is a testament to her saintliness.

Downton Molesley

Full of sads from the departure of his straight crush, Barrow tries to sow dissent between Molesley and Baxter by spilling the beans about Baxter’s history in prison. Molesley is obviously way too cool for that shit. He confirms the story with Baxter, but Molesley has a heart of gold so he’s not bothered, and neither am I.

Then, through magic, it seems I am able to will myself into the TV show, briefly possessing Mr. Bates so I can explain to Barrow, “I couldn’t care less what you think, Thomas. On that subject or any other.” Molesley agrees. Barrow slinks off into some corner to eat ice cream and cry while watching Glee (just a guess).

I suppose if we want to get cute about it, Baxter is caught between her past sins and the life she’s trying to lead now, and that’s an apt parallel for Tom, who’s given up his principles to fit in better with the Granthams (as we’ll see later). Huh.

Isis Watch 2015

Calm down.

The Education of Daisy Mason

Daisy is discouraged from her larnings — but not if Mrs. Patmore has anything to say about it. Patmore has finally found a reason for The Dreadful Ms. Bunting to exist on the show: maybe she can tutor Daisy!

Indeed she can, but Rose thinks maybe since Bunting is in the house anyway she ought to be invited up to dinner. This is the worst idea, but it’s Rose, so.

(Am I the only one who likes Rose? I understand not appreciating her when she showed up, but I’ve become attached to her as the writers have layered in some emotional complexity and turned her into something more than a spoiled brat. She’s still a brat, but seeing where she came from — her parents are embroiled in a deeply acrimonious divorce — makes her bubbliness tolerable, no?)

Fortunately, Ms. Bunting declines the dinner invitation. She does, however, try to remind Tom of his more radical Season One beginnings, and Tom is torn, leading to some tense dinner discussion about the Russians and their revolutionary ethics. Oy. I’m really glad they’ve kept Tom around this long; he offers a unique perspective on Downton, and also represents the possibility that the Granthams can change and grow (albeit in very specific circumstances).

Cora Crawley and the Mystery of the Flirty Art Dealer

That Guy Who’s Not Tony Gillingham — his name is Blake — has a friend named Brooker who’s interested in viewing one of Downton’s paintings, possibly to appraise its value. Cora agrees to meet with Brooker when he visits with Blake, because lord knows she hasn’t got much else going on this week.

Mr. Brooker shows up to examine the painting — a Della Francesca, in case you want to leave a comment telling me what that’s all about — but he seems more interested in checking out Cora, casting a number of longing glances her way that last juuust a little too long for their meaning to be ambiguous.

Donk misses the forest for the trees, which is kind of his thing, shouting at Cora in bed later that Brooker should “stop flirting with Isis!” Aw, Donk. Get it together. You’ve got a pretty good likability streak going at the moment and I’d hate to see that go up in flames.

There’s Something About Mary (her sex drive and attitude problem probably)

Boring Boring Boring Blake wants Mary to just admit that she’s picked Tony as her consort, but Mary won’t do it. It’s a little rude, honestly. Blake wishes Mary good luck in the future and it sounds like maybe he means it.

Mary can’t leave well enough alone, naturally, and corners Bland Blake later, insisting that she really really hopes he’ll be really really happy for her if she marries Tony. Blargh Blake actually makes a pretty convincing case that Tony isn’t Mary’s intellectual equal, but still. Tony Gillingham, swoon. Say what you will about Blake; the deck is stacked against him here. Unfortunately, my affection for underdogs is outweighed by my intense urge to bury my face in Tony Gillingham’s neck while making kissy noises.

Speaking of which, Mary is busily preparing for her top secret sex vacation with Tony, telling Cora that she’s off on a trip with a lady-friend. “I expect we’ll drive around for a few days and stop and sketch when we see a view we like,” Mary fibs,  which is how I will refer to coitus from here on out in my own life.

Before she can get down to sweaty, controversial business with Tony, though, Lady Mary asks Anna to head down to the Duane Reade and grab some birth control. And god bless, honestly, because I don’t want to deal with the Mary Gets Accidentally Pregnant and Has a Secret 1920s English Abortion plot, do you?

Anna is understandably uncomfortable, though, since she’s married, and also she probably is not getting paid enough for that shit. She voices these concerns to Mary, who, in typical Mary fashion, is like “Shut up please and just do what I’m telling you to do, OK? Thanks, you’re the best.”

“The point,” a frustrated Mary explains, “is that I want to marry again—- and I absolutely don’t want to divorce.” And of course she’s right: people shouldn’t get married without knowing whether they’re sexually compatible, even if it did somehow work out last time with Matthew despite the fact that he looked — and behaved — like a person constantly in need of a blood transfusion.

So off Anna goes to the local pharmacy where we see how awful life was when people had to be embarrassed about buying birth control — oh wait, that’s just like today! So timely!

Lady Edith Ongoing Tragedy Watch 2015

Nasty Farm Wife has really had it with Edith, who keeps doing annoying things like hanging out with her secret daughter. Mr. Drew the farmer has to remind Edith that Marigold has no parents (according to this charade they’ve constructed), and Nasty Farm Wife doesn’t like that one bit. “We’re her family!”

Drew suggests that Edith can be Marigold’s godmother but Mrs. Drew immediately bugs out, saying “NONONONONONONONONONONONONONO,” with her face. This won’t end well.

Edith asks Donk whether she should/can use her own money to “take an active interest” in Marigold’s future. Donk, who you must remember blew the family’s whole fortune on, like, railroads or some shit, consents. “It’s your money and you may do with it what you like, but don’t invest it in Canadian railroads like I did because I’m a big dumb Donk,” he [mostly] tells her.

Finally, Mary embarks on her sexventure in Liverpool with Tony; it’s all very clandestine and romantic. Tony tells Mary the plan: they’ll go get dinner and then “make love all night, and in fact as long as either of us has any stamina left.”

Is it hot in here? Oh my stars, I think I need to lie down.

This is juxtaposed with the rest of the Downton family and staff listening to the King speak on the radio – the times, Julian Fellowes is signaling, they are a-changing. All this after a terribly charming (really!) episode-long back-and-forth between Rose and Donk about whether Downton should have a radio.

Initially Donk is aghast, calling the radio “a kind of thief of life.” And don’t even ask how he feels about Twitter. But when the King uses the cutting-edge contraption to speak to his subjects, Donk comes around and decides, for now, that the device can stay, causing a gleeful Rose to female ejaculate everywhere.

BUT WAIT: a cop shows up just before the end of the episode to inform us that there was a witness to last season’s murder of Mr. Green. Did you hope we were done with that story? So did Mrs. Hughes, from the troubled look on her face. Hmm…

Yup. That’s the one.

Adam Goldman writes things for you. See more at thatadamgoldman.com