Accent on a classy delivery

OF ALL the reliable go-to adjectives at the disposal of the TV critic - such as ''breathtaking'', ''mind-numbing'', ''gripping'', ''trashy'' and ''delightfully bonkers'' - perhaps that which is most sought by the ambitious TV-monger is ''classy''. For a show to be called classy is the highest of praise. The pinnacle of the small-screen mountain is occupied by programs that are either classy or gritty. For example, Mad Men is classy; The Shield is gritty. Deadwood is both; Packed to the Rafters is neither.
Classiness is, in fact, pretty thin on the ground in the annals of Aussie TV - it's basically restricted to Enough Rope and everything Claudia Karvan has ever done. So we mostly rely on imports to provide our daily recommended dose of class and currently Channel Seven on Sunday nights has become so classy, it's practically a cocaine addict. This is because of Downton Abbey, which is possibly the most beautiful show made, so good-looking, you can't watch it without feeling like a stinking hobo.
It's period, of course. Most really classy shows are period pieces because people were a lot classier 100 or more years ago. They wore classier clothes and lived in classier houses, so it's a lot easier to make classy TV about them.

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Downton Abbey is set in England in the early 20th century, when women were elegant and men were sort of sad-eyed and stoic and every house with more than four bedrooms was legally required to contain an acerbic elderly aunt who looked like Maggie Smith. Also there are servants, illustrating the social order and class divide that permeated every aspect of life in the days of Empire or something; I don't really know, I'm too busy listening to the accents.
O Lord, the accents! That's where the class really comes out. English, of course. Any show that wants to be classy without English accents is at a disadvantage.
Is it possible to act badly with an English accent? We could probably tell the difference if we were English - it's easier to pick up unconvincing delivery in your native voice. That's why so many Australian shows sound like they're being acted by developmentally delayed chimps and why I refuse to listen to people who say the Liverpool accents in Bread were pathetic.
The point is, the accents in Downton Abbey are like honey dripping off a crumpet onto a delicate china plate resting on a Shetland pony. I could listen to them all day. In fact, I think I will.
I guess the essence of a really classy show is that, while it must be impeccably acted, gracefully and wittily scripted and gorgeously shot, it will always be something that takes us away from ourselves. That shows us a rarefied world that, even with its intrigues, crises and convoluted emotional and sexual politics, is something to yearn for, something shinier and prettier and more melodious than the everyday.
The gritty side of TV has its charms, too, but it is a touch of class that warms and nourishes us. Like Brideshead Revisited, like Upstairs, Downstairs, even like Fawlty Towers, Downton Abbey is the swelling chamber music and the chaste, yet passionate, kiss in our viewing schedule. Thank God they still make 'em like that.