Fackham Hall: Downton Abbey After a Head Injury
There are films that strive to be subtle, nuanced, and clever. And then there is Fackham Hall , which bursts through the door like a drunk uncle at Christmas, knocks over the sherry, insults the dog, and farts loudly in the general direction of period drama. And thank heavens for that. Fackham Hall is, quite clearly, a vicious, unapologetic parody of Downton Abbey and every single stiff-upper-lip, tea-sipping, “golly gosh the help are revolting” costume drama ever inflicted upon Sunday evenings. It does not wink. It does not nod. It kicks the genre squarely in the corset and keeps kicking until something expensive breaks. The plot—if we’re being wildly generous—is that posh people live in a very posh house, say very posh things, and behave like utter lunatics. The servants, meanwhile, are just as unhinged, which is refreshing, because normally they’re portrayed as noble, long-suffering saints. Here, they’re idiots too. Equality at last. Visually, the film looks exactly like a pre...