Bedsider

Sex on TV: Longing stares at Downton Abbey

If any of you are like me, you’ve jumped on the Downton Abbey train. And I mean train in the steam locomotion sense, as commercial air travel wouldn’t enter the picture for another decade or so. But you know what I mean. Never did I think I’d see the day when I’d gleefully hop onto my couch with a glass of wine in hand to tune into my favorite program of the week on – wait for it—PBS. At least not until I was 80 or so. But there I am on Sunday nights (or on PBS’s website for mid-week catch up sessions), watching the tail end of Grannies on Safari or This Old House as I wait for Laura Linney to beckon me to early 20th century England.

So we’re there, biting our nails when poor Cousin Matthew is missing in war, rolling our eyes when naïve Sybil rebukes the adorable Branson’s declaration of love…again, and cackling with delight when crotchety Grandma Violet (a.k.a. Minerva McGonagall 4 Life) sends a zinger right into gullible Cousin Isobel’s girdle.

Sure, there’s a war and drama among the house staff and an impossibly cute dog, but the bulk of the storyline boils down to the ‘will they, won’t they’ love between Lady Mary and Cousin Matthew. And for a television show about love, there sure isn’t a ton of lovin’ going on. Aside from the insinuated, though never seen, heart stopping (literally) consummation of Mary and the now-deceased Turk in the first season and a single scene of maid-on-invalid debauchery during the second season, there’s practically zero bed-shaking at Downton Abbey. At least on screen. So why do I still feel the need to describe it as a sexy show?

Folks, Downton Abbey has perfected what is known as the longing glance. A piercing stare characterized by hankering, intensity, probable ujjayi breathing, robust with notes of yearning, aching, and just a touch of cardamom. And boy does Mary give good glance. She could probably get pregnant solely by the lusting in her stares at Cousin Matthew. As for Matthew, although his loins aren’t burning for anyone or anything post-war spinal injury, I’m not giving up hope for a Crawley-Crawley heir. Sybil’s too fickle and while I think it’s obvious that Ethel would miraculously heal from that nasty case of prickly bitch she’s been sporting if she just got laid, I’m not holding out for her to carry on the family genes.

In a nutshell, it sounds ludicrous to say that I get my jollies from an hour-long drama on PBS where STIs are less of a concern than the Spanish Flu, longing glances outnumber steamy sex scenes 100 to 0, and the female characters show less skin than a Barbara Walter’s 20/20. But I do. It just goes to show that television can be well-written, entertaining, and sexy without any vulgarity. So, you hear that, Barbara? Stop skanking it up.

“Downton-Abbey-Episode-7” image by Evian Tsai.

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Lauren Mann works in The National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy’s Entertainment Media department. She’s been blogging about sex, love and relationships among twenty-somethings since she first joined the Campaign as an intern in 2009. Check out her personal blog at whatjewtalkingbout.tumblr.com.