‘Downton Abbey’ recap: Burning down the house

Where is a dead Turkish diplomat when you need one?

As we approach the midpoint of “Downton Abbey’s” third season, I am increasingly concerned the show has lost its ability to surprise. I find myself nostalgic for the long-ago days when you never knew who might slip on an errant bar of soap, die from ingesting rat poison, or carry on a same-sex affair with closeted members of the nobility.

What was so seductive about “Downton Abbey” the first time around was how it offered all the usual trappings of British costume drama, while also indulging the more prurient impulses of the contemporary viewer. It was like watching an unexpurgated version of Jane Austen, with all the usual gossip over marriage and money, plus actual sex. It was surprisingly juicy for a show about a bunch of toffee noses.

The war washed away some of the show’s giddy fun and somewhere before the Armistice “Downton Abbey” crossed the line from familiarity to predictability. Now the gloom lingers – just ask Ethel and Bates – and so far there are few surprises to be had.

Lord Grantham is shocked to learn of his son-in-law’s possible involvement in the destruction of a stately home belonging to a landed Anglo-Irish family, but can any of us honestly say we expected Branson to do anything but become a terrorist? Let’s not forget that a few short weeks ago he was making casual jokes about blowing up the entire Crawley family. Of all the caricatures on “Downton Abbey,” Branson is by far the broadest, a living, breathing pull-string doll who only ever seems to open his mouth to utter some nationalist pabulum or revolutionary cliché.

So when, seemingly out of nowhere, Lord Grantham began to mouth off about Catholics (a.k.a. “Johnny Foreigners”) to the visiting Anglican archbishop, we all knew Branson would come a-knockin’ on the door in no time and that trouble was on the horizon. Sure enough, he did and it was.

A stand-up guy if ever there was one, Branson has left Sybil (who by now must be about 18 months pregnant) behind in Dublin while he runs from the law. Thanks to Grantham, Branson will stay out of legal trouble, provided he never returns to Ireland. It’s a possibility that seems as remote as him getting a tattoo of the Union Jack on his butt. Although Branson’s hypocrisy is quite breathtaking – he flees from the smoldering ruins of one ancestral home then hides out at his wife’s family estate--what really blows my mind is Grantham allowing him to stay. He might as well give him a can of gasoline and a box of matches while he’s at it.

No less surprising is Edith’s half-accidental decision to become a suffragette, but at least after the beating she’s taken these last few seasons, she finally has something interesting to do. Miffed that she can’t eat breakfast in bed like her married sisters and not quite desperate enough to take up gardening, Edith decides to heed her grandmother’s tough-love advice (“You’re a woman with a brain and reasonable ability. Stop whining and find something to do”) by writing a letter to the local paper. (In 1920, only landed women over the age of 30 could vote, as Edith explains with some clunky expository dialog.)

The Crawley sisters have a bit of a rebellious streak in them, so the question now is how far Edith will take her new-found activism. Is she going to be a rich dilettante -- a jazz-age version of Lindsay Fünke – or are hunger strikes in the offing?

Naturally, Grantham has a conniption fit when he sees the letter in the local paper. I’m beginning to think he might be the most inconsistent character on this show: His youngest daughter is married to an Irish radical and alleged arsonist, and yet what really gets him freaked is Edith’s polite public support for women’s suffrage? Has he always been this stupid, or is Julian Fellowes trying to make a point about the obliviousness of the aristocracy in the postwar era?

As we all surely knew it would, tension begins to emerge between Matthew and his Downton Abbey “co-owner.” Matthew now calls Lord Grantham “Robert,” a circumstance which reflects their equal status but nevertheless feels vaguely scandalous. Matthew is resistant to returning the house to prewar staffing levels, but Carson insists, mostly because he’s sick of doing the lowly work of a footman. In the world of “Downton Abbey,” it’s the servants, and not the aristocracy, who are the most vocal defenders of an outdated class system.

Matthew concedes the fight, but later after reviewing Downton’s books he discovers the whole estate is being mismanaged – how or by whom, we do not yet know. Again, this should not come as a terrible surprise. Grantham is, after all, the guy who lost all his money in a bunk railroad investment, and who has not only kept Thomas – a known thief -- gainfully employed but promoted him to the most trusted job in the household.

As the episode comes to a close, Matthew turns to Violet for advice, as everyone seems to be doing these days. (Interesting, isn’t it, how her role has subtly shifted, as if to recognize the emotional wisdom hidden beneath all her tart one-liners?) With the frankness that is her trademark, she tells Matthew that whatever he does, someone’s nose will be put out of joint.

“Downton Abbey” is never less than enjoyable, but things are feeling a bit stagnant these days. Which is why I view the arrival of pretty boy Jimmy – excuse me, James – with the same welcoming attitude as Lady Mary. If nothing else, he ought to make things interesting. It’s no surprise that Thomas has his eyes on Jimmy from the get-go, but given the love triangle already brewing between Daisy, Alfred and Ivy, my guess is things are about to get very, very messy below stairs.

In the absence of a dead Turk, a mysterious and dashing footman will do just fine, thank you.

Stray thoughts:

--The Bates storyline continues to drag on interminably. The prison guards are mad at him for some reason, then not mad at him for some other reason, and either way I find it hard to care too much.

--What’s more dangerous to the Crawley family than the Irish revolutionary in their midst? According to Carson, it’s Mrs. Hughes’ electric toaster.

--Matthew is eager to get his wife knocked up and give Downton Abbey a new heir. Mary, eh, not so much.

--Mary, proving once again she’s Violet’s granddaughter: “Alfred’s nice but he does look like a puppy who’s been rescued from a puddle.”

--While I don’t feel particularly invested in the Ethel subplot, I am pleased to see how the plight of women (Edith, Daisy, Ethel) has become a recurring theme this season.

--Seriously, can someone explain why Edith is barred from eating breakfast in bed because she’s single? Is it somehow too “sexy” for a single woman, or something?

ALSO:

“Downton Abbey,” “Mad Men”: Why the good old days are hot again

“Downton Abbey” recap: For richer but mostly for poorer

“Downton Abbey” recap: Runaway bridegroom

twitter.com/MeredithBlake