First up, there was a sneak peek here. I can't embed it and I couldn't find it on youtube, but I thought I might as well point you in its direction.
Next up there were a couple of articles from the Daily Fail with some new accompanying pictures.
Marriage to Matthew would secure Lady Mary’s future – and that of her beloved Downton too. But he’s about to shock her to the core...
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MARY IS SMILING. CRYING ABOUT IT, TBH.
When we met Mary in the first series of Downton Abbey, she appeared to be a cold and ambitious elder daughter of an earl.
Blighted by her gender, she had to prove she could be as successful as any male heir. [I rewatched 1x04 today and after watching the scene where Mary is sobbing about how her father finally has the son he's always wanted, how could anyone hate her? IDGI.] However, finding herself engulfed in a potentially ruinous scandal when her one-night lover, the Turkish diplomat Kemal Pamuk, died in her bed, she was forced to see that even upright and good people make mistakes.
Ultimately, the scandal was Mary’s salvation, softening her and opening her up to true, honest love. Of all the characters, she is the one who undergoes the greatest metamorphosis. [I really really hate the implication that Mary needed to be raped by Pamuk in order to grow as a person or whatever. Fuck that noise.]
Mary was taken by surprise when she fell for Matthew, who is in line to inherit the family home. She knew it would be convenient for everyone if they married, but she didn’t think she could love a man born outside the aristocracy. [Uh and also she didn't like that people were telling her to marry and passing her around from one heir to the next...]
A man who worked for his living was not her type, but Matthew’s kindness of heart, his love for her and his good looks and charm won her over.
Still, it was hard for Mary to relinquish her dream of securing a powerful and rich society figure for a husband. When it looked as if there was a chance Matthew might not be the heir – during Cora’s brief pregnancy – Mary wobbled a little. [My own personal belief is that after Pamuk she felt a lot of guilt and shame and saw herself as a fallen woman and maybe subconsciously didn't believe she deserved to be happy.]
She had been schooled in the success of a financially astute match, following her own parents – the future of Downton seemed assured when the Earl married American heiress Cora, who brought a huge personal fortune with her.
Mary was quickly punished for her doubts: Matthew sensed her wavering and called off the engagement, and by the time she saw him next, he was in love with Lavinia Swire.
‘The thought of losing Matthew had a huge effect on her,’ says Michelle Dockery, the actress playing Mary. ‘It made her a nicer person in the end.’
And now she has her own wedding to look forward to. But with Mary’s stubborn temperament and Matthew’s desire to toe the moral line, we should not expect events to be free from drama.
In the rest of her life Mary is unsentimental – she is less concerned with her popularity than she is with getting what she and her family need. ‘Mary is very headstrong and unable to accept that she can’t have her own way,’ says Julian Fellowes. ‘But she can never allow herself to accept pity from anyone.’ [THIS IS WHY SHE IS PERFECT TO MEEEEE.]
Lady Mary has given her parents much reason to worry. Old-fashioned in many respects, she is closest to her traditional-thinking father (‘In some ways she is the son he never had,’ says Michelle) and grandmother. Of all Violet’s granddaughters, Mary is the one to whom she is closest: they are united in their fervent belief that Downton Abbey must remain the Crawley family seat. [Lol, basically Mary is becoming Scarlett O'Hara]
Mary is sometimes dismissive of her American mother, Cora; she doesn’t consider herself half-American but wholly English, and she has no compunction in telling Cora this.
Michelle says of their relationship, ‘She acts superior around her mother; a teenager’s toughness that has never worn off.’ If she appreciates her mother for anything, it’s the money she brought to the family, saving the estate.
Mary’s relationship with her sisters can be fraught. Before the war, she never lost an opportunity to put Edith, her middle sister, down, and when Edith discovered Mary’s sordid secret about her Turkish lover she was delighted – it was the sort of thing that could undermine her elder sister’s position in Society in a way that little else could. [Edith and Mary were both awful to each other in series 1. Edith wasn't just a victim.]
Their relationship is less antagonistic than it was, but they will never be close; they are too much set in their pattern. Of Sybil, her youngest sister, Mary is protective, and tried to stop her running off to marry the chauffeur, Branson.
Now she may not agree with her politics – Sybil’s husband is a Sinn Fein sympathiser – but she sees that they both essentially want the same thing: to be happy.
Mary’s closest relationships are with men: her father, Matthew and the butler, Carson. And her admirable qualities would have been considered masculine in 1920: she’s an adventurer, brave, an excellent horsewoman and a natural leader.
Mary’s archaic views, and her determination to gain power through her role as a chatelaine, give her self-confidence.
A powerful contrast to Matthew, whose modern attitude is likely to save Downton Abbey and keep it a relevant enterprise in the 20s. ‘She began as an arrogant young girl,’ says Michelle.
‘Then she was left vulnerable after the Kemal Pamuk incident, which put her in touch with her emotions. But her practical side returns in this series.’ Mary is a force to be reckoned with and we know she’ll fight for her family’s future, whatever the cost.
Matthew, the master of Downton’s destiny, finds himself torn between the past, the future – and his fiancée
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I WANT TO DIE. MARY'S CLOTHES IS SO PERFECT.
Matthew Crawley is a man trying to walk a straight line on shifting sands.
Brought up as the middle-class son of a Manchester doctor, he expected little more than to work, marry a girl-next-door and raise a family of his own.
Instead he has been thrust into the role of earl-in-waiting as the closest male heir to the Earl of Grantham, his third cousin once removed, and he has fallen in love with Mary, a woman who is not so much next-door as next-county.
After breaking off his first engagement to Mary because he couldn’t trust her motives for marrying him, Matthew thought he had made a better choice in the sweet Lavinia Swire.
Only she then died – as he believed, of a broken heart – shortly after she discovered him kissing Mary. For this, he can never forgive himself, explains Dan Stevens, who plays Matthew. ‘The situation with Lavinia haunts him. He feels responsible for her death. [OMG GET OVER IT, MATTHEW. HER GHOST GAVE YOU HER BESSING IN THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL.]
And it takes him a long time to come to terms with that.’ He is burdened by the pressure from all sides to reunite with Mary, despite his love for her. But having made the leap at last, he is determined to do his best by them both.
Somehow it is rather lovely to see Matthew enjoy the frivolous, flirtatious pleasures of a love affair. He is so tortured by his conscience that one doesn’t think of him as a happy-go-lucky young man. Matthew needs to learn to enjoy their carefree moments together. [OMG I NEED TO SEE MARY AND MATTHEW BEING PRESH AND IN LOVE]
But the young heir is the perfect symbol of the tension between the old and new worlds that was simmering as the 1920s began. He sees the opportunity for change.
When Mary’s sister Sybil marries Tom Branson, the chauffeur, Matthew becomes something of an ally to Tom: ‘I’ve told you before, if we’re mad enough to take on the Crawley girls, we have to stick together,’ Matthew tells him. [Branson is still on my shit list. But being bros with Matthew is a start to getting off of it.]
This desire for change is not only driven by social politics, but more soberingly the aftermath of the war, too. Many of the soldiers who fought in the trenches lost respect for the distant generals who commanded them with such incompetence. Many of the old habits of deference were lost, and this affected all strata of society. [I love that the show is addressing this ramification of World War 1.]
It is even doubtful how much Matthew looks to his future father-in-law Robert for guidance. He recognises Robert’s priorities are with preserving things as they are. In other ways, though, the two are close.
Matthew’s father died when he was quite young, and Robert has never had a son, so the two relish the chance to build their relationship along such familial lines.
There’s no denying Matthew is a lucky man – the only person at Downton to have seen active service and survive unscathed in the long term, he’s the heir to an estate and about to marry his true love. Yet he is not a man at ease. He yearns for a simple life but knows the duty of an aristocrat is to provide employment – even for a valet to fasten his cufflinks.
When it comes to the future of Downton Abbey itself, Matthew puts his principles ahead of its rescue, something Mary finds hard to comprehend. Lavinia’s father, Reginald Swire, has named him as an heir but Matthew cannot accept the money, because of his guilt over Lavinia.
It is anathema to Mary that he should put his feelings before the fortunes of their ancestral seat. [I love the return of contrasting Matthew's idealism with Mary's pragmatism.]
The young couple also have yet to decide where they will live as husband and wife. Mary, of course, wants to stay at Downton Abbey. But Matthew wants to live in a plainer manner. [Mary, giiiirl. Time to move out of your parent's house.] He sees the future is bright but is wise enough to acknowledge its uncertainties.
Britain’s grand estates faced parlous futures in the post-war era as higher taxes, labour shortages and the pressure to modernise their working practices took a toll on aristocratic landlords stuck in their traditional pre-war ways.
Julian Fellowes says, ‘Matthew sees no point in replicating that life even if he has got comfortable with living in the house and on the estate. But that internal tension existed. Matthew represents the feeling that if it’s going to survive, it’s got to change – and he’s right.’
source 1, source 2 and source 3
Next up there were a couple of articles from the Daily Fail with some new accompanying pictures.
Marriage to Matthew would secure Lady Mary’s future – and that of her beloved Downton too. But he’s about to shock her to the core...
MARY IS SMILING. CRYING ABOUT IT, TBH.
When we met Mary in the first series of Downton Abbey, she appeared to be a cold and ambitious elder daughter of an earl.
Blighted by her gender, she had to prove she could be as successful as any male heir. [I rewatched 1x04 today and after watching the scene where Mary is sobbing about how her father finally has the son he's always wanted, how could anyone hate her? IDGI.] However, finding herself engulfed in a potentially ruinous scandal when her one-night lover, the Turkish diplomat Kemal Pamuk, died in her bed, she was forced to see that even upright and good people make mistakes.
Ultimately, the scandal was Mary’s salvation, softening her and opening her up to true, honest love. Of all the characters, she is the one who undergoes the greatest metamorphosis. [I really really hate the implication that Mary needed to be raped by Pamuk in order to grow as a person or whatever. Fuck that noise.]
Mary was taken by surprise when she fell for Matthew, who is in line to inherit the family home. She knew it would be convenient for everyone if they married, but she didn’t think she could love a man born outside the aristocracy. [Uh and also she didn't like that people were telling her to marry and passing her around from one heir to the next...]
A man who worked for his living was not her type, but Matthew’s kindness of heart, his love for her and his good looks and charm won her over.
Still, it was hard for Mary to relinquish her dream of securing a powerful and rich society figure for a husband. When it looked as if there was a chance Matthew might not be the heir – during Cora’s brief pregnancy – Mary wobbled a little. [My own personal belief is that after Pamuk she felt a lot of guilt and shame and saw herself as a fallen woman and maybe subconsciously didn't believe she deserved to be happy.]
She had been schooled in the success of a financially astute match, following her own parents – the future of Downton seemed assured when the Earl married American heiress Cora, who brought a huge personal fortune with her.
Mary was quickly punished for her doubts: Matthew sensed her wavering and called off the engagement, and by the time she saw him next, he was in love with Lavinia Swire.
‘The thought of losing Matthew had a huge effect on her,’ says Michelle Dockery, the actress playing Mary. ‘It made her a nicer person in the end.’
And now she has her own wedding to look forward to. But with Mary’s stubborn temperament and Matthew’s desire to toe the moral line, we should not expect events to be free from drama.
In the rest of her life Mary is unsentimental – she is less concerned with her popularity than she is with getting what she and her family need. ‘Mary is very headstrong and unable to accept that she can’t have her own way,’ says Julian Fellowes. ‘But she can never allow herself to accept pity from anyone.’ [THIS IS WHY SHE IS PERFECT TO MEEEEE.]
Lady Mary has given her parents much reason to worry. Old-fashioned in many respects, she is closest to her traditional-thinking father (‘In some ways she is the son he never had,’ says Michelle) and grandmother. Of all Violet’s granddaughters, Mary is the one to whom she is closest: they are united in their fervent belief that Downton Abbey must remain the Crawley family seat. [Lol, basically Mary is becoming Scarlett O'Hara]
Mary is sometimes dismissive of her American mother, Cora; she doesn’t consider herself half-American but wholly English, and she has no compunction in telling Cora this.
Michelle says of their relationship, ‘She acts superior around her mother; a teenager’s toughness that has never worn off.’ If she appreciates her mother for anything, it’s the money she brought to the family, saving the estate.
Mary’s relationship with her sisters can be fraught. Before the war, she never lost an opportunity to put Edith, her middle sister, down, and when Edith discovered Mary’s sordid secret about her Turkish lover she was delighted – it was the sort of thing that could undermine her elder sister’s position in Society in a way that little else could. [Edith and Mary were both awful to each other in series 1. Edith wasn't just a victim.]
Their relationship is less antagonistic than it was, but they will never be close; they are too much set in their pattern. Of Sybil, her youngest sister, Mary is protective, and tried to stop her running off to marry the chauffeur, Branson.
Now she may not agree with her politics – Sybil’s husband is a Sinn Fein sympathiser – but she sees that they both essentially want the same thing: to be happy.
Mary’s closest relationships are with men: her father, Matthew and the butler, Carson. And her admirable qualities would have been considered masculine in 1920: she’s an adventurer, brave, an excellent horsewoman and a natural leader.
Mary’s archaic views, and her determination to gain power through her role as a chatelaine, give her self-confidence.
A powerful contrast to Matthew, whose modern attitude is likely to save Downton Abbey and keep it a relevant enterprise in the 20s. ‘She began as an arrogant young girl,’ says Michelle.
‘Then she was left vulnerable after the Kemal Pamuk incident, which put her in touch with her emotions. But her practical side returns in this series.’ Mary is a force to be reckoned with and we know she’ll fight for her family’s future, whatever the cost.
Matthew, the master of Downton’s destiny, finds himself torn between the past, the future – and his fiancée
I WANT TO DIE. MARY'S CLOTHES IS SO PERFECT.
Matthew Crawley is a man trying to walk a straight line on shifting sands.
Brought up as the middle-class son of a Manchester doctor, he expected little more than to work, marry a girl-next-door and raise a family of his own.
Instead he has been thrust into the role of earl-in-waiting as the closest male heir to the Earl of Grantham, his third cousin once removed, and he has fallen in love with Mary, a woman who is not so much next-door as next-county.
After breaking off his first engagement to Mary because he couldn’t trust her motives for marrying him, Matthew thought he had made a better choice in the sweet Lavinia Swire.
Only she then died – as he believed, of a broken heart – shortly after she discovered him kissing Mary. For this, he can never forgive himself, explains Dan Stevens, who plays Matthew. ‘The situation with Lavinia haunts him. He feels responsible for her death. [OMG GET OVER IT, MATTHEW. HER GHOST GAVE YOU HER BESSING IN THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL.]
And it takes him a long time to come to terms with that.’ He is burdened by the pressure from all sides to reunite with Mary, despite his love for her. But having made the leap at last, he is determined to do his best by them both.
Somehow it is rather lovely to see Matthew enjoy the frivolous, flirtatious pleasures of a love affair. He is so tortured by his conscience that one doesn’t think of him as a happy-go-lucky young man. Matthew needs to learn to enjoy their carefree moments together. [OMG I NEED TO SEE MARY AND MATTHEW BEING PRESH AND IN LOVE]
But the young heir is the perfect symbol of the tension between the old and new worlds that was simmering as the 1920s began. He sees the opportunity for change.
When Mary’s sister Sybil marries Tom Branson, the chauffeur, Matthew becomes something of an ally to Tom: ‘I’ve told you before, if we’re mad enough to take on the Crawley girls, we have to stick together,’ Matthew tells him. [Branson is still on my shit list. But being bros with Matthew is a start to getting off of it.]
This desire for change is not only driven by social politics, but more soberingly the aftermath of the war, too. Many of the soldiers who fought in the trenches lost respect for the distant generals who commanded them with such incompetence. Many of the old habits of deference were lost, and this affected all strata of society. [I love that the show is addressing this ramification of World War 1.]
It is even doubtful how much Matthew looks to his future father-in-law Robert for guidance. He recognises Robert’s priorities are with preserving things as they are. In other ways, though, the two are close.
Matthew’s father died when he was quite young, and Robert has never had a son, so the two relish the chance to build their relationship along such familial lines.
There’s no denying Matthew is a lucky man – the only person at Downton to have seen active service and survive unscathed in the long term, he’s the heir to an estate and about to marry his true love. Yet he is not a man at ease. He yearns for a simple life but knows the duty of an aristocrat is to provide employment – even for a valet to fasten his cufflinks.
When it comes to the future of Downton Abbey itself, Matthew puts his principles ahead of its rescue, something Mary finds hard to comprehend. Lavinia’s father, Reginald Swire, has named him as an heir but Matthew cannot accept the money, because of his guilt over Lavinia.
It is anathema to Mary that he should put his feelings before the fortunes of their ancestral seat. [I love the return of contrasting Matthew's idealism with Mary's pragmatism.]
The young couple also have yet to decide where they will live as husband and wife. Mary, of course, wants to stay at Downton Abbey. But Matthew wants to live in a plainer manner. [Mary, giiiirl. Time to move out of your parent's house.] He sees the future is bright but is wise enough to acknowledge its uncertainties.
Britain’s grand estates faced parlous futures in the post-war era as higher taxes, labour shortages and the pressure to modernise their working practices took a toll on aristocratic landlords stuck in their traditional pre-war ways.
Julian Fellowes says, ‘Matthew sees no point in replicating that life even if he has got comfortable with living in the house and on the estate. But that internal tension existed. Matthew represents the feeling that if it’s going to survive, it’s got to change – and he’s right.’
source 1, source 2 and source 3