— CiaoCatherine

I drank the Kool-Aid: Downton Abbey

This is how people look at you when you tell them you haven’t seen the show yet.

I became aware of Downton’s runaway popularity months ago at a public broadcasting meeting here in DC. Execs were shown a preview of the BBC miniseries’s second season. Figures showed viewership was up when Downton was on. This could be The Next Big Thing.

Then, my friends started in on it. And not just my friends who usually go for Masterpiece Theatre…You know who you are. Boys, girls, gay, straight, young, old. Then, my parents! What’s the fuss about, I thought? What on this green earth could be so beguiling about a television drama set in the late Edwardian era, that had a teenager and a 93-year-old separately telling me it was their favorite program?

The second season premiered in the US on Sunday night. Armed with a limited knowledge of the first season’s plot structure, I dove in in the company of a hardcore fan. From there it was a slippery slope into a vortex of Netflix streaming.

The cinematography, the elaborate sets and lush landscape, the beautiful people: all key ingredients for a runaway hit. But what really hooks you is the writing. I think dramatic miniseries set in times of yore often get a bad a rap for stodgy, unrealistic dialogue. Granted, the characters in Downton Abbey talk differently than we do, but it’s realistic. They gossip! They mutter! They say really cruel things to one another, then turn on a dime and say the most tender, raw things. Late-Edwardian servants and nobility: they’re just like us!