In HBO’s third season of The Gilded Age, a lavish period drama set in 1880s New York high society, a servant suddenly inherits a large sum of money, enough to never work again. However, he chooses to keep his newfound wealth a secret and continues his duties below stairs, unable to leave the household staff who have become his family.
Even for a show known for its lightheartedness, this storyline seems far-fetched. It’s unlikely anyone would choose 19th-century servitude as a hobby. But it’s not surprising that The Gilded Age would portray such contentment among the working class or express concern about rapid social advancement. Created by Downton Abbey’s Julian Fellowes, a British aristocrat and Conservative politician, the series aims to be a high-quality historical drama. Whether successful or not, it reflects on the American Dream of equal opportunity as pursued by ambitious individuals of the time. Season 3, in particular, implies that Fellowes doesn’t entirely approve of this pursuit.
This season marks a turning point for the show’s quintessential dreamers: George (Morgan Spector) and Bertha Russell (Carrie Coon). Born into ordinary families, this ambitious couple worked tirelessly to make George an industrial giant. Season 1 depicted their move, along with their children Larry (Harry Richardson) and Gladys (Taissa Farmiga), into a grand mansion on 61st St. Bertha began plotting to dominate high society as her husband controlled business. By the second season finale, her success in promoting the new Metropolitan Opera had solidified the family’s position. However, in the new episodes, Bertha’s determination to marry Gladys, against her will, to a British duke (Ben Lamb) causes conflict within the Russell family. In a similar overreach that could lead to financial ruin, George insists on building a cross-country railroad during an economic downturn. Fellowes suggests that the Russells’ unstable rise could lead to a swift fall.
Across the street, the show’s true heroes reside in more modest, traditional luxury: the witty widow Agnes Van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) and her kind sister Ada Forte (Cynthia Nixon), who had resigned herself to spinsterhood before marrying a gentle reverend (Robert Sean Leonard) in Season 2. Sadly, their marriage was brief, as he died of cancer shortly after, leaving Ada with a significant inheritance. This twist was convenient, as Agnes’ troubled son, Oscar (Blake Ritson), had recently lost the family’s wealth. This season’s main conflict between the sisters involves Ada’s attempt to take control of the household from Agnes, now that she is the primary provider. However, little changes, and in Fellowes’ world, tradition and consistency are valued.
The Gilded Age is not completely against progress. Despite her haughty attitude towards the “new people,” Agnes, like the Dowager Countess before her, possesses a kind heart. She is open-minded enough to hire a young Black writer, Peggy Scott (Denée Benton), as her secretary. This season, Peggy becomes ill at the sisters’ home, and they are shocked when their family doctor refuses to treat her. When Peggy’s parents (Audra McDonald and John Douglas Thompson) arrive with their own physician, Dr. Kirkland (Jordan Donica), Agnes and Ada welcome them graciously. (A romance develops between the doctor and patient, in one of the season’s strongest storylines, creating conflict between McDonald’s character and his snobbish mother, played by Phylicia Rashad.) The show, filled with strong female characters, also supports feminist causes of the era, such as women’s suffrage. It shows sympathy for divorced women, who were then considered too scandalous for polite society.
However, Fellowes disapproves of privileged individuals who lack the generosity expected of their rank and, especially, servants who are not sufficiently grateful to their employers. While the Russells are portrayed as morally ambiguous antiheroes, one of the season’s main antagonists is a member of their staff who leaks information about the family to the press. This character coldly remarks, “Money is money,” when caught. The show never questions whether Bertha adequately compensates her employees, nor does it explore the culprit’s motivations for the crime. After three seasons, The Gilded Age has barely explored its large cast of servants. Like Downton Abbey, it shows more interest in aristocrats struggling to maintain unearned wealth than in workers seeking happiness, a right enshrined in America’s founding documents.
Through his characters, Fellowes expresses his preference for a more compassionate and inclusive upper class. However, the idea that class-based gatekeeping and the economic inequality that sustains it might be social problems is not debated. (Would Agnes and Ada treat the Scotts with the same respect if they weren’t refined members of the Black bourgeoisie?) Instead, the social scene is assumed to be inherently good and worth preserving. As Ada notes: “Society’s changed, Agnes. The trick is to accommodate the new without upsetting the boat.”
“`