Charity bazaars and lukewarm romances dominate the narrative landscape, with a sprinkle of half-hearted insider trading that we'll gloss over swiftly. I believe I've diagnosed the issue plaguing "The Gilded Age" thus far: it cries out for the verve of "Selling Sunset." Let me elaborate. These female characters, though flawed to their core, deserve a spotlight that illuminates their lavish lifestyles! Picture marble bathrooms gleaming, jewel-adorned bosoms flashing, all set to the anthemic "Legends Are Made" by Sam Tinnesz. But let's outdo "Selling Sunset" by juxtaposing these scenes with poignant glimpses of the starving poor huddled on the streets of New York's Lower East Side—a powerful statement, yes, but one far more captivating visually than a circle of women huddled over bazaar plans.
Marian Brook still struggles with the nuances of acting, while Peggy Scott shines as a ray of sunshine amidst the medley. Marian's Pennsylvania lawyer, Tom Raikes, is en route to New York, prompting Peggy to seek his legal counsel—a request she dares not make to a Black lawyer, lest her father find out. Who is this enigmatic father of Peggy's, and why does she shroud her identity from him? This particular thread weaves an intriguing tale among the few that have captured my fancy. Moreover, I yearn for Audra McDonald's return, perhaps sharing a soulful duet with Denée Benton—imagine the harmony!
Marian inquires about Peggy's literary pursuits, to which Peggy responds cryptically, having dispatched query letters with bated breath, awaiting responses. The anxiety of pitching one's work, especially through the archaic method of snail mail, where rejection stamps could feel like movie-script nightmares, is indeed commendable. Kudos, Peggy.
Enter Tom Raikes, Marian's lawyer cum potential beau.After nearly two years of the pandemic, my words may not be as smooth as before, but I have to admit that the acting level of this play is... really uneven. Although we should be tolerant of each other, we who pursue the pleasure of watching the play do find some castings challenging. Marian and Tom's rivalry is like Oscar Wilde's play in the community theater, except that no one in the play is my friend, which greatly reduces the fun of watching.
Marian invites Tom for tea, grateful for his waiving of legal fees (motivated by hidden romantic inclinations). Before that, let's backtrack to a character I omitted earlier due to the show's overabundance of faces: Oscar van Rhijn, Agnes's son, a flirtatious figure who, in the previous episode's climax, locked lips with a descendant of John Adams. Initially unimpressed by Oscar in the premiere, I find him less objectionable in this episode. Oscar, whose mustache commands attention, is a man who eschews gravity yet fixates on deepening his acquaintance with Gladys.
Gladys, the seemingly ingenuous offspring of the Russells residing across the street, piques curiosity with her label of "seemingly." The qualifier hints at untold tales, yet I refrain from preemptively scripting Taissa Farmiga's secret opium vice or suchlike dramas. Marian mentions encountering Gladys in Aurora Fane's company, prompting Agnes's cryptic remark about Aurora skating perilously close to the precipice, as if she were an nocturnal thrill-seeker in clandestine street races.
Amidst this intrigue, there's a tangential storyline involving the van Rhijns' cook, who pilfers silver candlesticks to repay gambling debts. This anecdote merely underscores the inherent decency of Peggy, Marian, and Ada van Rhijn, a fact already well-established. Perhaps it serves to diversify the Irish maid's character beyond her primary trait of non-racism towards Peggy. Additionally, she remarks upon Mr. Oscar's handsome demeanor, leaving room for your opinions in the comments below, for I find myself undecided on the matter.
Anne Morris, expertly portrayed by Katie Finneran of Broadway fame and "Wonderfalls" renown, extends an invitation to Marian to participate in a charity bazaar, a prominent event during the 19th century. This bazaar aims to amalgamate the Dispensary for Poor Women and Children with the Infirmary for Indigent Women and Children, a noble endeavor indeed. Recall, Anne skipped the nouveau riche Russells' gathering, unlike her friend Aurora, rumored to engage in illicit street races. Compelled by her husband Alderman Morris's potential bribery by George Russell, Anne reluctantly agrees to dine at the Russells', dreading Mrs. Astor's judgment.
Among her bazaar-plotting circle, Anne confides her intention to exclude Bertha Russell. Asserting that money isn't everything, Anne prompts Marian's pointed rejoinder, "It is when you haven't got it." This line, though cheekily melodramatic, falls short of the subtle, incisive wit befitting the Gilded Age. I crave the whispered machinations that could topple empires and family names, the lavish, lingering camera angles capturing gowns as opulent as those in "Selling Sunset." Instead, we witness out-of-touch women sipping tea in a drawing room lacking grandeur, discussing their charity event's guest list. Julian Fellowes, I've seen "Gosford Park"; I know your capabilities transcend this!
Upon entering the Russells', Anne compares the dinner invitation to Dido's fateful leap onto a blazing pyre. Bertha, radiant in her burgundy gown, generously offers her ballroom as a backup venue for the bazaar. Meanwhile, George pitches Alderman Morris on constructing a new rail station, proposing that aldermen purchase stock on margin before enacting legislation to facilitate the project. Morris eventually agrees, a decision flagged as ill-advised by my sole knowledge of "Futurama," wherein Dr. Zoidberg considers the same perilous path. Thus, I foresee a grim conclusion, divergent from the usual escapades where wrongdoings go unpunished. For it is the Gilded Age, where appearances mask deeper, dire realities!
Recall the occasion when Tom was set to visit for tea? Oscar was joining in as well. Ada whispered to Agnes a tantalizing theory: perhaps Oscar's fancy was turning towards Marian. Agnes, ever the practical one, reminded Ada of two critical details – (1) they were first cousins, and (2) Marian possessed not a penny to her name. Ada brushed it off with, "Money isn't everything," as if uttering a crazy mantra. Really, Ada? What could possibly be the upside here? That their offspring might inherit a penchant for genetic ailments, akin to the bygone aristocracy? If I must choose sides in this dramatic saga, I'm Team Peggy all the way, with a tentative nod to Team Agnes for her occasional bursts of sanity. Bertha earns a mention too, albeit conditionally, as I await her grand entrance.
During tea, Tom, the smooth-talking lawyer, couldn't resist dropping hints about possibly relocating to New York all because of Marian. Really, man, can't a woman simply seek legal counsel post her father's demise without prompting a cross-country move? He boasts about seizing what he desires when he spots it. Yuk, such presumptuousness! She enlists him to speak with Peggy, leading to a rendezvous at the Bethesda Fountain the following day.
Oscar had invited Larry Russell to tea as well, and to Marian's bewilderment, Larry too was flirting with her. Agnes fumed at the Russell's presence in her home, likening herself to King Canute, valiantly battling the tide of vulgar folk. Kudos to the writers for a clever twist, avoiding the tired trope of 'barbarians'! Alas, their moment of wit was marred when Agnes declared she cared not for facts that contradicted her beliefs. The lack of subtlety was so glaring that I wondered if Fellowes had penciled it in brackets, perhaps with a note like, "Obviously tone this down, but keep the essence," only to forget, allowing it to slip into the episode verbatim.
Marian, Peggy, and Tom converged at the fountain the next day. Tom shared trivia about the fountain's statue, proudly noting, "It was crafted by a woman; you'll appreciate that," among other mundane facts. The ensuing conversation was a tangled web of confusion, beginning with Marian saying, "I hope you just read that from a guidebook," to which Tom replied, "I did." Marian sighed, "What a relief – you had me momentarily freaked out."
