Production Designer Donal Woods On His 15-Year Journey Designing ‘Downton Abbey’

When "Downton Abbey" first appeared on television screens in 2010, few could have predicted the global phenomenon it would become — least of all Donal Woods, the production designer who has shaped every inch of the Crawley family’s world for the past fifteen years. In fact, he recalls not being entirely convinced by the elevator pitch producer Liz Trubridge gave him over the phone. “I was told it was about a family who own a big country house and their servants,” Woods tells The Set Set. “I remember thinking — as it was 2009 and just after the global crash — who's going to watch this?” 

What followed, of course, was a cultural juggernaut: six seasons, two follow-up films, and 15 Emmy Awards (nine of which were wins at the Creative Arts Emmys, the technical and artistic arm of the awards body). Now, “Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale,” the franchise’s final farewell, has arrived in cinemas. For Woods — whose designs have helped define the show’s unmistakable world of stately architecture and lavish interiors — it’s both a continuation of the story and a send-off.

Returning to the world of “Downton” for the third and final film meant going back to where it all began: Highclere Castle, the real-life British stately home instantly recognisable to audiences as the fictional Downton Abbey. Over the years, the production team has worked closely with the Carnarvon family, who have owned the property since the 17th century, to make the house camera-ready. Woods and his team brought in roughly a quarter of the furnishings and decor seen on screen — family photographs, artwork, and heirlooms — while the rest of the furnishings seen on screen were those inherited by the modern-day custodians of the castle. 

While other heads of department, notably costume designer Anna Mary Scott Robbins, have evolved their work to chart the passage of time from 1912 to 1930, Woods’s goal was to preserve the essence of Downton itself. “Country houses didn’t change much after the First World War,” he explains. “If you go to an English country house today, there isn’t any Art Deco or mid-century furniture. So my mission was to leave Downton as it is.” That continuity, he believes, is key to its enduring appeal: “You come home to somewhere familiar — and I think that’s what the audience loves.” 

But, as with the previous film installments, Woods was tasked with expanding the “Downton” universe beyond the recognisable rooms of the main home that audiences are familiar with. In the second film, that meant transplanting the family and their staff to the French Riviera. Now, in “The Grand Finale,” he brings the family’s experience of the London social season to life in a series of sweeping, cinematic set pieces.

The film begins with members of the household — both upstairs and downstairs — attending a theatre show in the heart of London, before showcasing how an aristocratic family like the Crawleys would occupy their days in the city: luncheon at Fortnum & Mason, shopping in Piccadilly Arcade, and leisurely turns around a royal park. Then comes a bump in the road when Lady Mary (Michelle Dockery) attends a white-tie ball while harbouring a secret that soon scandalises her society acquaintances: she’s getting a divorce.

As soon as Woods learned that Robbins would be dressing Dockery in a striking red gown for the scene, he reimagined the surrounding palette of the ballroom to ensure she remained the visual focal point. “She should dominate the space,” he recalls thinking. “So we made the rooms all neutral colors so that the red dress stands out.” He also purposefully pared back interiors during another key scene when Mary and her father return to London to scope out an apartment after learning that they have to downsize from their regular London residence. “The emptiness was rather nice for a change,” Woods says with a laugh at the deliberately unfurnished set. To heighten the contrast with the film’s more opulent locations, he gave the space something of a make-under. “We actually painted the room gray and made it rather uninviting,” he explains.

Contrasting visual language has always been key to Woods’s conception of the “Downton” sets, and that duality — austerity below, opulence above — has defined the show’s aesthetic since the very beginning. “The original idea was that it was two groups of people living under one roof,” he explains. “Below stairs, we purposely made it monochromatic, with only about three colours. It’s like a black-and-white Scandinavian film. And then above stairs, it’s a glorious Hollywood Technicolor film.”

As the curtain closes on the Crawleys’ story, he’s still slightly astonished by the endurance of the world he helped build. “I didn’t think when we started that I’d still be shaping the world of the Crawleys, not in a million years,” Woods admits. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and you can often get brilliant scripts that never take off, but this one just seemed to connect with the world.” 

“Downton Abbey” remains a defining work of British television and cinema — one whose success owes much to the tireless craft of Woods, and his collaborators, costume designer Robbins and hair and makeup designer Anne Oldham (both, like he has, have been a part of “Downton” since the very beginning). It’s a collaboration that not only defined the world of “Downton” but helped breathe new life into the period drama as a genre. “When we first started, period drama wasn’t at its most popular,” he reflects. “It’s not for me to say whether other productions happened because of ‘Downton Abbey,’ but its global success has certainly rekindled the audience’s desire for more.”