Fackham Hall – A Brisk, Funny Parody of Downton Abbey That's Pleasantly Ephemeral.
It could be the feeling of an ending era pervading: following a long period of dormancy, the spoof is enjoying a return. The recent season witnessed the re-emergence of this unserious film style, which, when done well, lampoons the self-importance of overly serious genres with a barrage of exaggerated stereotypes, sight gags, and dumb-brilliant double entendres.
Unserious periods, apparently, create an appetite for knowingly unserious, laugh-filled, welcome light entertainment.
The Newest Offering in This Goofy Resurgence
The latest of these silly send-ups is Fackham Hall, a parody of Downton Abbey that pokes fun at the easily mockable self-importance of wealthy English costume epics. The screenplay comes from UK-Irish comic Jimmy Carr and directed by Jim O'Hanlon, the movie has plenty of source material to work with and exploits every bit of it.
Starting with a ridiculous beginning all the way to its outrageous finale, this entertaining aristocratic caper fills all of its runtime with puns and routines that vary from the juvenile up to the authentically hilarious.
A Mimicry of The Gentry and Staff
Much like Downton, Fackham Hall delivers a spoof of very self-important aristocrats and very obsequious staff. The narrative revolves around the hapless Lord Davenport (played by a delightfully mannered Damian Lewis) and his anti-reading wife, Lady Davenport (Katherine Waterston). After losing their children in separate tragic accidents, their aspirations are pinned on securing unions for their daughters.
One daughter, Poppy (Emma Laird), has achieved the aristocratic objective of an engagement to the appropriate first cousin, Archibald (a perfectly smarmy Tom Felton). But once she withdraws, the onus falls upon the unattached elder sister, Rose (Thomasin McKenzie), considered a spinster at 23 and and possesses dangerously modern ideas about a woman's own mind.
The Film's Laughs Lands Most Effectively
The film fares much better when satirizing the oppressive norms forced upon pre-war women – a topic often mined for earnest storytelling. The stereotype of idealized femininity offers the richest material for mockery.
The storyline, as one would expect from a deliberately silly parody, takes a back seat to the jokes. The writer serves them up arriving at a pleasantly funny clip. Included is a homicide, a farcical probe, and an illicit love affair featuring the roguish street urchin Eric Noone (Ben Radcliffe) and Rose.
The Constraints of Pure Silliness
The entire affair is in lighthearted fun, however, this approach imposes restrictions. The dialed-up foolishness characteristic of the genre can wear over time, and the mileage for this specific type diminishes somewhere between a skit and a full-length film.
At a certain point, you might wish to go back to a realm of (at least a modicum of) coherence. But, one must admire a sincere commitment to this type of comedy. If we're going to amuse ourselves to death, let's at least laugh at it.
