The Gilded Age season 2 premiere: Even more delicious New Money pettiness

Carrie Coon, Morgan Spector

If you’re ever questioning if The Gilded Age knows its audience or not, the opening moments of season two should quiet any concerns. We’re welcomed back into the world of 1880s New York opulence with a montage dedicated to the good stuff: the hats. Yes, boxes upon boxes of pure milliner porn, their extravagant, heavily feathered contents soon seen festooning the heads of returning cast members like Christine Baranski, Cynthia Nixon, Carrie Coon, and Audra McDonald (a.k.a. every theater kid’s dream blunt rotation).

Though the HBO historical drama—which returns with a new episode written by creator Julian Fellowes and directed by Michael Engler—is always one to serve it where costuming is concerned, the parade of pastel-hued headwear is purposeful. It’s Easter Sunday, and anyone who is anyone is attending mass. Along with introducing us to some new faces, including Robert Sean Leonard as the rector, Rev. Matthew Forte, the services provide a neat way of catching up with our favorite Real Housewives of (19th century) New York City.

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Speaking of romantic drama, Marian (Louisa Jacobson) is still feeling jilted by her last-season love Mr. Raikes, who is reportedly due to be soon married, and has thrown herself into teaching watercolors to young girls at a nearby private school. (Unsurprisingly, Aunt Agnes is not pleased by this development.) And cousin Oscar (Blake Ritson) is equally emo following Easter mass, having been pointedly ignored by Gladys Russell (Taissa Farmiga), who he is still pursuing, and spotting his old paramour John Adams (Claybourne Elder) strolling through the streets with another fella. He takes to a bar to nurse his sorrows, where things seemingly start to look up when he catches the eye of another patron—only to return home later badly beaten and robbed. He doesn’t want it reported to the police though: “I have nothing to tell them…I don’t want to be a story in the papers.”

Things are similarly morose in Philadelphia, where Denée Benton’s Peggy Scott is also attending mass but in mourning. After discovering late last season that the child that her father made her believe had died was, in fact, still alive, we tragically come to find out that Peggy’s young son has passed of scarlet fever, an infection that also claimed the life of his adopted mother. Peggy and her parents (McDonald and John Douglas Thompson) are visiting the boy’s adopted family and seeing where he lived all these years, a devastating excursion that has stoked resentments and regrets amongst the Scott clan. It’s not a surprise, then, that Peggy tells her parents that they all need a rest from each other and, upon her return to New York, inquires with Marian about her old posting at the Van Rhijn residence.

We go from Pennsylvania to Rhode Island, where Bertha is touring the grounds of her Newport property with Ward McAllister (Nathan Lane, all Southern twang and mustache wax). She’s curious about the Metropolitan Opera, a shiny new competitor to the Academy of Music, but Ward advises her not to go against the Academy-loving old guard, including Donna Murphy’s Mrs. Astor. (He also drops news of an intriguing new widow in the neighborhood, a Mrs. Richard Blane, who will be played by none other than Tony winner Laura Benanti. Again, drama-club kids are eating this season.)

The premiere ends with back-to-back social functions, each punctuated with a big surprise (or two). The first, an afternoon tea in honor of Dashiell hosted by Agnes & Co., during which Oscar privately proposes marriage to Gladys, who is attending much to the chagrin of her mother. “I’m happy to be hen-pecked as long as you’re doing the pecking,” he proclaims, guaranteeing her a life of independence and autonomy (and, you know, having a closeted husband). He tells her to think about it.

And over at House Russell, Bertha is getting the soufflés prepped and the claret decanted for her own tony shindig, a dinner for opera enthusiasts, a.k.a. a pseudo benefit for the Metropolitan Opera. She’s pettily invited fellow Academy waitlisters as well as Mrs. Astor, who is not happy to have been hoodwinked into attending. She’s even less delighted to hear about the Met’s star-studded lineup for its opening season, including the world-famous soprano Christina Nillson...who just happens to be on hand at Bertha’s bash for a surprise private performance for her dinner guests. Your move, Astor!

What kind of unfathomably rich and stupendously trivial adventures will these New Yorkers get into next week? All we know is, there better be more hats.

Stray observations

• That operatic cameo wasn’t the only surprising moment of Bertha’s big dinner. While being served at the dinner table, Flora McNeil (Rebecca Haden) confirms the popular fan theory that George Russell’s valet, Watson (Michael Cerveris), is her father. Her mother had informed her that her dad had fallen down the social ladder, but hadn’t specified exactly how far. Daddy issues abound.

• George “Hot Beard” Russell is dealing with some very topical issues this episode—namely, unions. He and the rest of the railroad owners gather in a meeting of truly spectacular facial hair, each ’do more extravagant than the next, to discuss the workers’ unthinkable demands like [checks notes] an eight-hour workday and safety measures. “For once, we must stand together and introduce change when we decide, not them,” Hot Beard declares. Triggering!

• The Gilded Age has gone full Oppenheimer: A whopping 13 recurring characters were bumped up to series regulars in the already sizable main cast for season two, including Taylor Richardson as Bridget, Debra Monk as Armstrong, and Ben Ahlers as Jack Trotter. That personnel bloatedness risks diluting characters, but so long as we get Christine Baranski being rich, bitchy, and wrapped in expensive fabrics every episode, we’re more than satisfied.

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