This article contains spoilers for The Gilded Age Season 4 Episode 2.
To enjoy The Gilded Age, you must understand that soapiness is what the period drama thrives on. Creator Julian Fellowes has never shied away from melodrama throughout his work, and the series is all the better for embracing its rather outrageous twists, social rivalries, upstairs-downstairs dynamics, and romantic entanglements. Season 4 Episode 2 delivers plenty of each, balancing the schemes and scandals of high society with some of the show’s darkest developments yet. But with an ensemble this sprawling, The Gilded Age still struggles to give its more substantial storylines the attention they deserve, especially when it comes to finding time in Newport.
If last week’s episode centred on legacy, this week’s episode looks at change, and no household feels its effects quite like the Van Rhijn/Brook/Forte family. Episode writers Fellowes and Davita Scarlett keep even the lowest stakes interesting, from Ada (Cynthia Nixon) hiring a sweet but talkative and clumsy new footman to Agnes (Christine Baranski) taking offence at the arrival of new curtains Ada failed to consult her about. If anyone other than Baranski and Nixon played Agnes and Ada, the constant back-and-forth over who holds the power would grow tiresome, but the two are so in tune that their verbal sparring remains thoroughly entertaining. Their exchanges provide some much-needed levity in one of the series’ darker outings – figuratively and literally, as the poor lighting continues to make it difficult to see what is going on.
Baranski commands much of the episode, even as The Gilded Age stretches itself thin across storylines. With the President’s dinner approaching, Agnes must swallow her pride and participate in interviews to highlight the Heritage Society’s importance to New York. She must also attend the Met Opera to promote the dinner, much to her chagrin. Agnes’ reluctance to embrace the changing social landscape remains one of the show’s comedic touchpoints, but Baranski also finds something rather touching in her resistance. The world she once influenced has changed around her, and while she bites back, she has little control over what happens in her own home. With Ada and Marian (Louisa Jacobson) embracing less traditional paths, and even Mrs Astor (Donna Murphy) in cahoots with Bertha (Carrie Coon), Agnes appears alone in her determination to preserve the past.
Another benefit of letting shows find their footing, as HBO did with The Gilded Age, is that it allows less experienced actors to grow alongside them. Jacobson is a prime example, having developed considerably across the show’s first three seasons. Marian, and by extension Larry (Harry Richardson), have long been two of its mellower characters, but Season 4 promises to give Marian the potential the audience proxy should always have had. The pair reunite after their premarital trip downtown in the premiere, though Larry quickly reminds audiences why he is about as interesting as a piece of limp lettuce. He sees their indiscretion as the perfect excuse to marry, but Marian rightly takes offence; he shouldn’t need an excuse to marry her. Beyond his inability to romance a woman (an almost impressive feat given that his parents are George and Bertha, one of television’s hottest failmarriages despite the constraints of their era), he fails to recognise that society will punish Marian for debauchery he can dismiss without consequence.
Jacobson delivers an affecting performance as Marian throws herself into her work at the settlement house. For too long, the show has defined Marian through her romantic prospects, with her previous suitors serving as little more than obstacles to her inevitable romance with Larry. She often has little to do beyond reacting to other people’s decisions while fulfilling the expectations placed on an unmarried woman of the era, rendering our audience surrogate boring. Even if the premiere’s events lead to a pregnancy storyline, her commitment to helping the impoverished offers a welcome alternative, particularly as she considers opening another settlement house. And if Mrs Astor is to succeed in steering Carrie (Amy Forsyth) Larry’s way, Marian would be better off forging her own path.
The Gilded Age may not know whether to commit to Marian and Larry, but it certainly does to Bertha and George (Morgan Spector). Team Bertha wins again, as George’s increasingly erratic behaviour makes him one of the episode’s most frustrating characters, even if that is intentional. He talks down to Larry during and after a tense negotiation with Rockefeller, refuses to return home, and keeps pushing his wife away despite her attempts to repair their marriage. Coon is especially excellent at conveying Bertha’s newfound vulnerability without lessening the formidable woman audiences and Old Money New York have come to know. Her marriage may be in turmoil, but her social ambitions remain intact. At the Met, she discovers that the President will be heading to 61st Street to dine with Agnes. If there’s one thing Bertha cannot resist, it’s an opportunity to climb another rung of the social ladder.
Coon and Spector therefore remain two of the show’s greatest assets. Their chemistry gives even the smallest interactions a weight that some other romances struggle to match, making their separation all the more painful to watch. Bertha’s return to New York offers an opportunity for reconciliation, and while George remains determined to keep his distance, he’s still drawn to his wife. When he finally kisses Bertha, the interruption feels almost cruel, though his later return to their shared bed suggests a reconciliation may be possible sooner than audiences think. Whether The Gilded Age will build towards this with the level of development both characters and their respective actors deserve remains to be seen, but for now, it’s a start.
And it’s a start largely propelled by Anne Morris’s (Katie Finneran) return. Finneran’s guest appearance is hardly surprising, particularly for eagle-eyed viewers who could have made out her form last week (or spotted her name among the Season 4 cast on IMDb). The twist that her son Will was behind the attempt on George’s life in Season 3 is a smart but deliciously soapy move from Fellowes, contributing to one of the show’s darkest episodes as George contemplates shooting him in retaliation for the injuries and trauma he suffered. If you don’t take The Gilded Age too seriously, it’s the sort of outrageous development the series and Fellowes do best, even as it pushes George further from the man audiences and Bertha have come to know.
Elsewhere, Peggy’s (Denée Benton) storyline continues to explore the limitations of the world around her, even as the series fails to give her the attention she deserves. We do not spend enough time with her, Dorothy (Audra McDonald), or Mrs Kirkland (Phylicia Rashad), who spend much of the episode in Newport at the Daughters of Friendship meeting. Their visit is hardly smooth sailing, exposing further prejudice women faced when Mrs Kirkland decides to introduce Peggy as a widow. This may be intended to ease her entrance into Newport society, but it reaffirms the idea that she must hide parts of herself to earn acceptance among people who judge her by their own and societal expectations. Benton is a marvel, though seeing McDonald and Rashad face off makes the series all the better.
The same is true of William (Jordan Donica), whose experience at Bellevue Hospital offers a tragic exploration of prejudice when he travels with a patient who needs immediate treatment. His role stops at the entrance because he is black, despite diagnosing the patient in the first place, highlighting the institutional racism that limits his authority. The patient’s subsequent death only reinforces the consequences of that prejudice, and Donica devastates as William struggles to look forward. But The Gilded Age has a frustrating habit of introducing major issues, then moving swiftly to another drawing-room disagreement or plot for more power in society. William and Peggy’s storylines deserve more room to breathe, especially when an episode spends too much time rehashing social hierarchies.
Ultimately, The Gilded Age remains an entertaining period soap, and Season 4 Episode 2 emphasises why its ensemble is among television’s best. Baranski, Coon, Jacobson, and Benton deliver some of the episode’s strongest work, while Fellowes simultaneously relies on old tricks and finds devastating ways to upend his characters’ lives. If the series could pace itself better across its numerous storylines and large ensemble, without losing its talent, it would be unbeatable.
