by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer
In the followup to what was a strong introductory start to the series, Season Two of The Gilded Age offers yet another delightful glimpse into the world of 1880s New York City, and the characters that inhabit it. I thought Season One bordered on some of the best television of 2022. In a year that offered a sizable selection of exceptional television, that says something about the level of quality on display from The Gilded Age. Showrunner Julian Fellowes, who is most commonly associated with another widely acclaimed television series, Downton Abbey, is at the helm here. As someone who does not have much familiarity with Downton Abbey, Fellowes does a fantastic job of making a case for how he achieved such success with his previous endeavors through the work that’s on display in The Gilded Age. Akin to the first season, Fellowes is credited as a writer for every episode, alongside Sonja Warfield, who contributes for three of the eight episodes. The duo are paired alongside a trio of directors in Crystle Roberson, Deborah Kampmeier, and Michael Engler, who actually directed the Downton Abbey film, along with several episodes of the original series, so his prominence as far as the number of director credits here makes all the sense in the world. It’s with this team that, when combined with the stellar costume and production design, engrossing performances, and Harry and Rupert Gregson-Williams’ delectable score, we arrive at one of the most entertaining shows on the air today.
Despite its relatively low episode count (Season Two features eight episodes), there’s a truly extensive effort regarding how many subplots are woven in. Balancing a large ensemble cast is never an easy task, but the writing is strong enough to toe the line between staying true to its characters and never leaving any one individual on the sidelines for too long. A dozen or so major storylines occur simultaneously throughout this season. Some certainly take center stage more than others, and there are some which hold more of my personal investment. That’s largely a matter of personal taste, but I find it to be an interesting facet of the show. While it can seem quite restricted to the limits of the period piece costume drama genre, there’s a universality to these characters and themes that can likely resonate with a given viewer on at least some base level.
If there are any critiques to level out against Season Two, one of them would be that it isn’t above indulging in the tropes that come with the genre. Not that this bears too much of a negative effect on quality, but conveniences such as the sudden bout of cancer to a noble character, or the show’s portrayal of the south do give off a bit of an eye-rolling effect. That in and of itself varies depending on whether these decisions are meant to further characters, or to further another irritating habit. This is also nothing new, but there is an occasional habit in any period piece to write one or more characters with a modern sense of progressive morality and beliefs. I’m almost positive this kind of modus operandi can be found in Downton Abbey, so that may just be the way Fellowes goes about writing. It’s honestly not even an explicit negative for me, but it does stand out in a way that pulls me out of this world, and instead has me thinking of the behind-the-scenes aspect of this show. Additionally, there is an underlying vibe that makes the season feel like setup for what’s to come. There’s a narrative progression for a number of characters and their subsequent relationships to one another, but there’s also an inconsistency on that front, depending on the episode. The finale doesn’t have that problem, but it’s leading up to that where this nitpick is found. Aside from those slight issues, this season succeeds on all fronts.
The performances across the board are excellent. I couldn’t be pressed to point out a weak link among the lot, as everyone feels like they’re buying into the material in such a way as to strengthen their connection to this setting. If there are any standouts among the bunch, it would certainly be Christine Baranski and Carrie Coon as Agnes Van Rhijn and Bertha Russell, respectively. For two actors who don’t share much screentime with each other, their impact as they navigate their own struggles with their respective familial ensembles is a heavy one. The beauty of what they bring to the screen is just how different yet similar the two characters are. At the center of this is how the duo come to understand their characters. They each are able to interpret the words on the page and insert their own spark to transform it into something I can’t turn away from. Where we leave them by season’s end just reinforces their similarities, given the journey each woman embarks on. While Agnes’ conflict is more internal in how she handles her relationship with her sister’s impending marriage, Bertha finds herself traversing a societal minefield, as she aims to take center stage of a community unwilling to accept her. Despite Bertha actually finding a way to achieve her goal, she is in no better position than Agnes, who is only left on the downswing due to the actions of her son, Oscar (Blake Ritson). Unlike Agnes, it’s through Bertha’s own decisions that her victory is marred with an underlying note of melancholy. In different ways, each character finds themselves in a situation hoping for the best, but may soon reckon with an outcome which could be devastating for their future.
As far as how the period piece setting of the show goes, the 1880s New York environment is one I’m privy to, to begin with. I’m just an admirer of virtually any story that can delve into the history of a certain place at a certain time. I love to think about the work done to recreate something you’ve read about in texts, and how it was done. What that could have meant for someone in years past and how it, in this instance, can work as a symbolic way of understanding the history of America. The show does this in various ways, which contribute to either the plot or simply flesh out the landscape. The inclusion of Oscar Wilde (Jordan Waller) and the grand unveiling of the Brooklyn Bridge make for nice nods to the latter. In regards to the former, there’s a fair amount of time devoted to Bertha’s plan for the construction of the famous Metropolitan Opera house and Peggy Scott’s (Denée Benton) excursion to Alabama to cover the opening of an all-Black school. It’s these features that bring to light the kind of research I expect was done by Fellowes to bring forth the most authentic version of New York City possible. Now, I don’t interpret this series as some sort of history lesson intended to be taken as fact. I simply would point this out to highlight it’s something to be respected, as is the show taking its own liberties. Take George Russell’s (Morgan Spector) subplot of negotiating with the head of a union organization to settle an ongoing strike over labor disputes. There’s a very good chance something like this was found in Fellowes’ research, but he finds a way to make it his own. The results bring forth one of the most engaging character dynamics of the entire show, with Spector’s scenes opposite Darren Goldstien as the head of the union, Henderson.
Finally, the larger themes tie this season together. The show in general touches on ideas of finding independence, feminism, class dynamics, racial prejudice, domesticity, homosexuality, and love. Fellowes doesn’t so much shift from those themes in Season Two, but instead slightly pivots to focus on themes of acceptance and self-reflection. Whether it’s Marian Brook (Louisa Jacobson) having to decide if she’s ready for married life, or Peggy finding peace with the child she never knew, almost every lead character must make an internally based choice. Decisions that test their social standings up against a sense of morality. It’s a story beat we’re all too familiar with, but it’s no less effective under the purview of Fellowes. And so we find our characters as they stand at a crossroads which, to a certain extent, feels like the fate of their livelihoods are at stake. That’s the case for some more than others, and it still can feel like a bit of melodrama is overtaking the narrative. But when the show is as entertaining as it is, that can only hold it back so much. As far as the outcome of the decisions made by our characters, that has yet to fully reveal itself. I guess we’ll have to wait for Season Three to find out.
Rating: High Side of Liked It
The Gilded Age is currently streaming on Max