Being a Guinness is rarely straightforward, as Ivana Lowell, a key figure behind the new Netflix drama “House of Guinness,” can attest.
The London Times aptly dubbed the series “‘Succession’ with beer and brutality.” Starring James Norton and Louis Partridge, the show kicks off with the demise of the 19th-century Guinness patriarch, Sir Benjamin Guinness—then Ireland’s wealthiest man. It then delves into the fierce battle among his four children for control of the vast stout empire.
The inspiration for the series struck Ms. Lowell over a decade ago during Christmas holidays with her cousin, Desmond Guinness, an Anglo-Irish aesthete and son of a baron, at his ancient castle in County Kildare. Desmond was also related to one of the infamous Mitford sisters.
“We were idly watching ‘Downton Abbey,’ and I distinctly remember thinking, ‘Our family’s stories are far more interesting and eccentric than this,’” Ms. Lowell, now 59, recalled from London.
(Ivana Lowell initially conceived the idea for a show after realizing her family’s dramatic history rivaled popular period dramas.)
Upon returning to her Sag Harbor, New York, home, Ms. Lowell penned a treatment. It explored the beer’s origins with Arthur Guinness—“the one on the bottle,” she joked—and charted the family’s ascent through Sir Benjamin, who ultimately oversaw Europe’s largest brewery.
Six years passed before Ms. Lowell collaborated with Steven Knight, the visionary creator behind “Peaky Blinders.” Together, they rescued “House of Guinness” from development purgatory and propelled it into full production.
(James Norton portrays foreman Sean Rafferty in “House of Guinness,” a character added at Ms. Lowell’s suggestion.)
“Steven envisioned opening the show with the reading of Benjamin’s will,” Ms. Lowell explained. “Benjamin leaves the brewery and all his wealth to his two sons, forcing them into a bitter struggle for control.”
Set against the grim industrial landscape of 19th-century Dublin (though filmed in Northern England), a city then simmering with revolutionary fervor against British rule, “House of Guinness” is a far cry from the refined period drama that sparked its creation. It’s distinctly gritty, not genteel.
“It’s definitely not ‘Downton Abbey’—it’s raw,” Ms. Lowell admitted, expressing some apprehension about her family’s reaction.
However, she probably has little to fear. If there’s one trait common among this sprawling, headline-grabbing clan, it’s a keen awareness of their own theatricality. “My family members are incredibly dramatic, eccentric, and possess a fantastic sense of humor,” she continued. “These are the stories I’ve always grown up with. But ultimately, it’s a drama, not a historical documentary, so Steven had creative license to invent.”
One particular fictitious element was entirely Ms. Lowell’s suggestion: “I really wanted a sexy foreman who would take his shirt off a lot,” she confessed about the character played by Mr. Norton.
This isn’t Ms. Lowell’s first time delving into her family’s colorful past. Her 2010 memoir, “Why Not Say What Happened?”, offered a sober account of her traumatic upbringing in a dilapidated English manor, overseen by parents and guardians whose negligence was, at best, profound.
In the memoir, she revealed that at age 6, she was sexually abused by her nanny’s husband. A kettle accident left her with severe third-degree burns and lifelong scars. The man she believed was her father, Israel Citkowitz (Caroline Blackwood’s second husband), turned out to be unrelated. She later discovered her biological father was screenwriter Ivan Moffatt, one of her mother’s many lovers. Tragically, her sister Natayla died from a heroin overdose at just 18.
“I still don’t know how I managed to get through it all,” Ms. Lowell reflected. “I suppose it’s because I had no frame of reference; I didn’t know any different. Being burned, raped, and abused—that was simply my reality. When you don’t know anything else, you just assume it’s normal. The distinctive Guinness sense of humor was a huge help.”
(Ms. Lowell’s 2010 memoir, “Why Not Say What Happened?”, candidly explored her challenging family background.)
Indeed, dark humor is a staple of the family. Ms. Lowell recalled a common Guinness saying whenever things went awry: “This is bad, even for us.”
During the series’ development, she drew inspiration from anecdotes shared by her grandmother, Maureen Guinness, and her mother, the brilliant yet often acerbic and alcoholic writer Lady Caroline Blackwood, who had been married to figures like painter Lucian Freud and American poet Robert Lowell.
“My grandmother Maureen and her sisters, Aileen and Oonagh, famously dubbed the ‘Glorious Guinness Girls,’ could easily have their own series based on their scandalous escapades,” Ms. Lowell concluded. “That generation was undoubtedly spoiled, pampered, and seemingly allowed to get away with anything they pleased.”