YEE-HAW, we've got ourselves a new English period drama, folks, and from the fine writing hand of Downton Abbey's very own Julian Fellowes, no less!
I love Endeavour, but at 90 minutes/episode, man, it's a bigger commitment than golf. And my bride keeps trying to rope me into Call the Midwife, but every episode appears to involve a whole lotta pain, desperate breathing, and outright midwifery, so, nope, that's gonna be a non-starter.
But at just 60 minutes per—with an absence of pain and an abundance of beautiful accents, top hats, and floor-length ball gowns—The English Game may be just the ticket.
Granted, the soccer scenes themselves (so lamely choreographed) are laughable: Grown men toppling over for no explicable reason whatsoever, failing to stop slow balls kicked directly at their shins, and stubbornly populating goals with nearsighted goalies. But after the game, ah, after the game is when the magic happens. Everyone retires from Eton or The Oval, freshens up, dons his or her respective tuxedo tails or dinner gown, then convenes downstairs to recount the day's festivities over Fine Bone China, champagne, and strong spirits.
If you're looking for something new, look to the past.
