Has dear old Downton finally lost the plot, asks JAN MOIR 'The end is nigh': Michelle Dockery as Lady Mary Be that as it may, as Lady Mary is always saying, but the end, my dears, is quite clearly nigh. Nigher than nigh, nigher than a lame horse being led around the back of the glue factory. For the troubled fourth series of Downton Abbey came to a close last night; not with a bang, not with a whimper, not with a sigh, but with a clearly audible death rattle. How much longer can it struggle on without anything actually happening? Millions of viewers joyfully rubbed their hands together and tuned in for a treat; a feature-length season finale, yippee. Yet they were presented with nearly 90 minutes of so-called drama in which very little of note actually occurred. You could have cut the tension with a pair of blunted asparagus tongs. Carson stood up and sat down a lot. Mrs Patmore made sandwiches. A lot of tea was drunk, both upstairs and downstairs. There was a lot of pork talk. Everyone bored on about pigs. I'm so pleased about the pigs. She was amazing with the pigs. You should have seen Mary with the pigs. Have the pigs recovered? And so on. Real world calling Downton; no one is interested in the pigs. After all, Thomas the footman is enough of a swine for any drama series Elsewhere, Mrs Crawley went for a nice walk. She received a lovely bouquet of flowers. Lady Cora put up some bunting. Branson fixed a car. Oh yes, nearly forgot! Mr Bates quite possibly embarked on another killing spree, but we cannot be absolutely sure about this. True, he was prowling around Downton wearing the gratified, hooded expression of a cat who has just decapitated a dormouse - but when does he not? All we know is that Green - Lord Gillingham's sex-mad valet who raped Bates's wife Anna in episode three - has ended his life under a London tram. Struggling: The troubled fourth series of Downton Abbey came to a close last night. Above (l-r), Lady Edith, Lady Rosamund Painswick, Tom Branson, Lady Mary and Lady Rose Dull: Viewers were presented with nearly 90 minutes of so-called drama in which very little of note actually occurred. Above, Hugh Bonneville as Lord Grantham That's tram without a "p," in case you were wondering. So the cliff-hanger of the entire series is this; did Green fall or was he pushed? And if he was pushed, is Bates going to end up swinging from a rope for his sins? Guilty or innocent, if any of this stops poor Anna from staggering along the Downton corridors, hanging on to the walls for support as she sobs extravagantly into her starched cuffs, then all will have been worthwhile. Viewers have been rooting for Anna and Mr Bates since the very first series. To see them come through the travails of blackmail, murder, jail, a re-trial, a pardon, release and marriage just like any other pair of plucky Edwardian domestic servants has been a joy. To have their happiness thwarted so soon is, perhaps, a terrible mistake. Anna's misery is awful to behold. Revelation: Green - Lord Gillingham's sex-mad valet who raped Bates's wife Anna in episode three - has ended his life under a London tram Bates is now forever furiously polishing footwear in the boot room, packing polonium pellets into his walking stick just in case and looking murderous over the super-sized hunks of bread at the supper table. It is much too soon for him to go back to the dark side - but this calamitous state of affairs is entirely indicative of a Downton series that has lost its way. A blizzard of sub-plots have confused us. What was all that business with the missing pen? Or Carson's ailing former song and dance partner? Or the psychotic nanny? Characters we were not interested in fell in and out of love with each other to no great purpose. The Daisy-Ivy-Alfred love triangle that never was. Molesley and That Sad Lady Who Is Always Sewing. Mrs Crawley and Lord Glooms - I mean, who cares? Perhaps most jarring is the Race Issue which has been bolted on to the Downton superstructure with all the subtlety of a Black And White Minstrels routine. 'Swine': Thomas the footman, pictured with Baxter, right, is enough of a swine for any drama series Romance: Viewers have been rooting for Anna and Mr Bates since the very first series of Downton Abbey Yet Lady Rose's short romance with jazz singer Jack Ross seems doomed already. Even he spotted the looming trouble that an inter-racial relationship might have caused in Twenties England. "A black singer with the daughter of a marquess in a North Yorkshire town?" he cried, over the stilled teacups in Thirsk. Rose was inconsolable when the family found out. Who told you? I love him!" she told Lady Mary. And I won't listen to any imperialistic nonsense about racial purity, about how he should be horsewhipped for daring to dream. Honestly. And it all started out so well! Back in September, Lady Mary was in deep mourning following the sudden death of her husband, Matthew. That was hilarious for a start. Endless comic potential there. For the actress Michelle Dockery, who plays Lady Mary, has made it clear since day one that she didn't go to acting college, she studied her craft with The Woodentops. Joy or sorrow, her face treats those two imposters just the same. Her expression is always blank, blank, blankety blank. 'Pork talk': There was a lot of discussion about Lady Mary's encounter with the pigs She makes Mummy Woodentop look like Meryl Streep and likes to drift around Downton as if the coat hanger was still in all her dresses. "I know you thought me very snobbish when you arrived," she told one of her suitors last night. No, darling. He thought you were a door. Suitors! Yes, now that Mary is a merry widow, chaps are buzzing around her like termites inching across a particularly tasty plank of oak. They say things like: "You fill up my brain." I won't give up. Consider me. It is like a superposh version of Blind Date, only with a rather dull woman forced to choose between a trio of dull, brilliantined twits. All rather galling, especially for little sister Edith. For one brief, shining moment, it looked like this was going to be Edith's year. 'Doomed': Lady Rose's short romance with jazz singer Jack Ross seems doomed already She was in love, she was in London, she was wearing sea-green chiffon and drinking champagne from saucer glasses, her dashing beau by her side. For once, something was about her. And now what? Her lover is missing in Germany and Edith is pregnant. She is to travel to Switzerland with her aunt, Lady Rosamund, to give up the child for adoption. Their cover story is that they are going there to learn French. So why Switzerland? So that Violet, the Dowager Countess of Grantham, could deploy another of her infamous aphorism bombs. "Switzerland has everything to offer - except perhaps conversation," she duly opined. Almost on a par with chastising Mrs Crawley for announcing her arrival with a cheery: "It's only me!" "I always feel that greeting betrays such a lack of self-worth," she shuddered. I bet the tea-towels are being printed as we speak. Of course, there have been some lovely moments this year, but where to next? After the great, sweeping events and themes of previous series - the sinking of the Titanic, World War I, Matthew's Trouser Tingle, The Soap Slip, Lord Grantham losing all the family's money - there seems to be nothing left in the plot pantry. Most of all, Downton Abbey was predicated on the search for an heir. Now that they have found one, in the shape of never-seen Master George, what next? I still thrill every time the characters gather together in the drawing room, or sit around the candelit dining table - but this disappointing series has been defined by what did not happen, rather than what did Violet did not die. Neither did the dehydrated pigs. Lord Grantham did not perish on his transatlantic trip. Edith did not have an abortion. Her lover did not come home. Tom did not become a politician. Lady Rose did not elope. Lady Mary did not remarry. And Mrs Patmore did not have to buy a new kettle. Somebody gave her some oyster shells to boil up inside it, just so she could inform viewers this was how they used to clean the pots and pans. Handy tip! "Well about time, it was full of scale," she said, pleased. Be that as it may, it's not the only thing in Downton that could do with a jolly good spring clean.