Upstairs Downstairs

I was never a regular viewer of the old Upstairs Downstairs. Not sure why. I think I was of an age when it sounded boring. But you still knew a lot about it, even in distant and foreign lands like mine. And it’s not every servant who makes it onto Sesame Street. (Put down the ducky?)

We enjoyed the new mini series over Christmas. The Resident IT Consultant cried at all the right times, while the Grandmother fell asleep.

I like Art Malik, but you wonder at the apparent shortage of Asian actors. Was quite taken with him without the turban, flowing beard and all. I often wonder about those things.

Not too keen on Keeley Hawes, but thought Ed Stoppard did a passable job. And we got a history lesson, having to sort out the order of princes available for becoming King, but I do wonder about the gravelly street. In fact, when I start wondering about authenticity I know I need to stop before I get grumpy.

The Guardian had a piece about people enjoying the idea of having servants rather too much, forgetting that most likely we would all be the servants. I’m sure we can rise above that notion and learn something from both Upstairs and Downstairs. I’d have hated being a servant, but I really wouldn’t have liked having servants around at all times, either.

But a nice 1930s dress would be welcome, as would the china. And the radios and the car.

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