It could be the notion of an ending era in the air: after years of inactivity, the spoof is staging a comeback. The recent season saw the re-emergence of this playful category, which, when done well, mocks the self-importance of pompously earnest genre with a flood of heightened tropes, visual jokes, and dumb-brilliant double entendres.
Playful eras, it seems, give rise to self-awarely frivolous, laugh-filled, welcome light entertainment.
A Recent Addition in This Goofy Trend
The latest of these goofy parodies comes in the form of Fackham Hall, a Downton Abbey spoof that needles the highly satirizable airs of opulent English costume epics. Penned in part by British-Irish comedian Jimmy Carr and directed by Jim O'Hanlon, the feature finds ample of material to draw from and wastes none of it.
Starting with a ludicrous start to a outrageous finale, this entertaining aristocratic caper fills each of its runtime with jokes and bits running the gamut from the puerile to the truly humorous.
A Mimicry of Aristocrats and Servants
Much like Downton, Fackham Hall presents a caricature of extremely pompous aristocrats and excessively servile servants. The plot centers on the incompetent Lord Davenport (played by a wonderfully pretentious Damian Lewis) and his book-averse wife, Lady Davenport (Katherine Waterston). Following the loss of their children in separate unfortunate mishaps, their plans now rest on finding matches for their daughters.
The younger daughter, Poppy (Emma Laird), has secured the aristocratic objective of an engagement to the suitable first cousin, Archibald (an impeccably slimy Tom Felton). But once she pulls out, the onus falls upon the unmarried elder sister, Rose (Thomasin McKenzie), considered a "dried-up husk already and and holds unladylike beliefs concerning female autonomy.
Its Laughs Succeeds
The parody is significantly more successful when satirizing the stifling expectations placed on pre-war ladies – a subject often mined for self-serious drama. The archetype of respectable, enviable ladylike behavior offers the most fertile punching bags.
The plot, as is fitting for an intentionally ridiculous send-up, takes a back seat to the jokes. The writer serves them up maintaining a consistently comedic rate. Included is a homicide, a bungled inquiry, and an illicit love affair featuring the roguish thief Eric Noone (Ben Radcliffe) and Rose.
A Note on Pure Silliness
Everything is in lighthearted fun, however, this approach comes with constraints. The heightened foolishness characteristic of the genre might grate after a while, and the comic fuel for this specific type expires somewhere between a skit and feature.
At a certain point, audiences could long to go back to a realm of (at least a modicum of) reason. Yet, one must admire a wholehearted devotion to the craft. If we're going to amuse ourselves unto oblivion, it's preferable to see the funny side.
