Dear Downton Abbey…
I’ve been a fan of yours from the very beginning. No, I mean the real very beginning— not from the third episode after everyone started talking about you, and it was suddenly very cool to be a Downton fan. I watched the very first episode, and have followed you faithfully ever since. Even when you broke my heart. And now, you’re drawing to a close and there’s something I want you to know.
It’s OK to have a happy ending.
Yes, I know. It’s about STORY! I’m a writer. I get it, OK? Dramatic tension. Character development. Plot twists. Actors bowing out of their contracts. More dramatic tension. Angst is good television. Tragedy is good television. Heartbreak is great television. But it’s your final season. So I say again…
It’s OK to have a happy ending.
So, here are a few suggestions.
First of all, Mary and that hotshot car-driving guy have got to do something totally romantic. Something that will not only get her to smile, but, oh, who knows…giggle? Muss up her hair in unexpected passion? Run barefoot through a well-trimmed lawn in wild abandon?
Cut Edith a friggin’ break. Give her a studly boy-toy who takes her to the theater, makes wild love to her, and doesn’t think that Marigold is a totally strange name for a kid.
Let the Bateses win the London equivalent of the Powerball, move to the Cotswold’s, adopt ten kids and then have three of their own. Seriously. They deserve it.
I want Carson and the new Mrs. Carson move to a nude beach near Brighton where they can wallow in their aged, imperfect, magnificent splendor.
Thomas…oh, Thomas. He gave that little boy a piggyback ride, and in doing so redeemed himself for all his previous sins. Well, most of them. Let’s have Jude Law arrive, take one look at Thomas and fall madly in love. The two of them can sail off to a Greek island where they can drink ouzo and roll around in the sand all day. Yeah, that sounds good.
Daisy needs to go off to Russia, where she falls madly in love with a starving poet, and they live happily ever after, or at least until WW2, when Daisy sees the writing on the wall and high-tails it back to jolly old England.
That old Russian count has to come back for Violet. I think she deserves to have her final days spent in the arms of her true love, convention be damned. Of course, they’ll have to move out of the country, change their names, maybe get a bit of plastic surgery, but still.
Isobel and her ‘friend’ the doctor should tie the know, then move to the worst slums of London, where all of her do-gooding will totally change the lives of women there. Maybe she could hook up with those Midwives…
Lord and Lady Grantham. What to do? That great big house…all that land…the money dwindling away…
Lady Rose comes back from America, and her husband is now a Hollywood producer who thinks that Downton is the perfect location for his latest motion picture. For the next several years, Downton is kept alive by serving as the backdrop of several well-received movies, until WW2 rolls around, and it becomes the headquarters for the British Army, and is revisited by a disillusioned painter…oh, never mind.