The Gilded Age's Opera War Hits a Crescendo

“I don’t understand. Are you and Mrs. Astor friends or rivals?” Gladys Russell (Taissa Farmiga) asks her mother in a recent episode of The Gilded Age. “The two are not exclusive,” Bertha (Carrie Coon) responds without missing a beat.

Bertha struggled in the first season to be considered without disdain. Now, she is the master of this game, going up against high-society maven Mrs. Astor (Donna Murphy) rather than courting her attention. The exchange between mother and daughter sums up how the ongoing opera wars are turning a frenemy dynamic into a socialite feud. In doing so, the HBO series from Julian Fellowes has hit a glorious stride worthy of the Sunday night slot, tapping into an irresistible mix of petty quarrels, lavish parties, and captivating couture.

Throughout the series, pitting new money against the old establishment ensures passive-aggressive comments and fake niceties are the go-to weapons when gatekeepers like Mrs. Astor face off against self-assured (and self-made) figures like Bertha and her husband George (Morgan Spector). Mrs. Astor must make a desperate last-ditch play to retain her social arbiter crown. Throw in the Duke of Buckingham (Ben Lamb) as a coveted guest by every thirsty-for-power housewife, and the opera gloves have firmly come off.

I would typically roll my eyes at a storyline pitting women against each other over a duke's attention. In the case of The Gilded Age, I will make an exception as the opera wars ascended to a new level the minute a British noble entered the ring. First, Bertha settled old scores with her former lady’s maid Turner (Kelley Curran), who now goes by the married name of Mrs. Winterton after bagging herself a respected wealthy widower. Turner failed to seduce George last season and lost the Duke of Buckingham to Bertha after some dinner seating arrangement shenanigans. Bertha cannot believe her luck when the Duke agrees to sit in her box for the opening night bash, but loyalty is fluid, and as of the penultimate episode, the Duke has cozied up by Mrs. Astor’s side. This man is happy to be passed around like a gravy boat at dinner.

When Season 2 begins, Bertha's dream is a box at the hallowed Academy of Music. She thought getting Mrs. Astor to come to Gladys’ debutante ball was all it would take to open all doors, but this perk remains strictly off-limits. Bertha is not alone, and as the list of “disenchanted rich” continues to grow, the Academy cannot accommodate the swelling wealthy Manhattan population. A hot new venue is near completion, and the Metropolitan Opera House has enough room for those clamoring for a top spot. Acting as a go-between, Mr. McAllister (Nathan Lane, whose accent work hits new sounds) advises Bertha in the premiere to stick with Mrs. Astor, who will reward her patience in the end.” “I’m not much good at ‘in the end.’ Besides, nothing stays the same forever, and I can’t always be at Mrs. Astor’s beck and call,” she answers.

By the closing scene of the Season 2 premiere, Bertha has not only chosen which side of the opera house divide she is on but also made herself the face of the Met campaign. Clawing and scheming her way to get Mrs. Astor’s approval is so last season, and using Bertha’s self-assured determination to go against the social gatekeeper has unleashed a brand new level of petty and outlandish. Why else would Bertha turn the staircase in her mansion into a floral stage for opera sensation Christina Nilsson (Sarah Joy Miller) to perform a surprise set? It is the 1883 version of casually announcing Taylor Swift is the after-dinner entertainment.

Combining historical figures and events with fictional characters gives The Gilded Age an authenticity with space for playful storylines. Using the construction and forthcoming opening of the Metropolitan Opera House as the foundation of the second season could suck the tension out of the narrative. After all, the Met is still an institution 140 years later. Thankfully, this battle is about far more than who gets an opera box in what venue, and Bertha and Mrs. Astor's friendship veering toward enemy status has a few twists along the way. Whereas the Russells are fictional, Bertha’s path is undoubtedly inspired by Alva Vanderbilt, who went head-to-head against the real Mrs. Astor.

Two extremely wealthy women sparring over something as trivial as who will attend which opera house is the exact level of low-stakes I want from a show that takes great pleasure in throwing banquets and luncheons at the drop of an ornate floral embellished hat. It fits the candy-floss TV category previously occupied by And Just Like That… and The Morning Show, and each show can tap into a heightened version of New York City. The period setting of The Gilded Age is an additional step in removing us from present reality, and the jaw-dropping wealth contributes to the appealing melodrama best illustrated by the opera war. Not to mention, costume designer Kasia Walicka Maimone’s neverending pageant of taffeta, silk, lace, beading, and feathers always delivers the thrills.

Bertha’s ascendancy is endlessly fun to watch, in part because Coon imbues this character with delicious confidence and a ruthless streak. The Emmy-nominated actress also makes wearing the corseted dresses, bedazzled jewels, and enormous headwear look easy. A combative moment in the penultimate episode “Wonders Never Cease” is elevated by Bertha’s pulling focus daytime closet: Ruffling feathers come naturally to Bertha, particularly when the plumage on her millinery is this grand.

It isn’t all trivial plotting, as the penultimate episode took a joyful whirlwind romance and killed it — literally. But fans of Downton Abbey have experience with Fellowes as the Grim Reaper breaking up a happy couple. Season 2 has also tackled racism and the labor movement — with varying results — and each episode is jam-packed with tonal shifts. Thankfully, you can count on Coon to imbue every Bertha scene with intoxicating line readings and exasperated reactions at whoever is being disagreeable, whether it is a family member, a frenemy, or a straight-up nemesis.

Murphy is equally adept at playing her side of this feud, capturing the underlying desperation when her position as the arbiter of good taste in New York City is threatened. When she sat down with Bertha to discuss the lack of boxes in the premiere, she agreed that the Academy had been shortsighted in refusing to build anymore, yet she fell into the same arrogant trap. All signs point to her influence slipping through her fingers, and this is no clearer than when Bertha refuses to back down from the upcoming opening night head-to-head — even after she is offered the coveted Academy box.

“I thought the opera war was under control too, but Mrs. Astor has made me an offer, and now I don’t know what to do,” Bertha confides to her husband in the penultimate episode. They are dressed for bed, and the casual intimacy is an additional bonus bolstered by Coon and Spector’s electrifying chemistry. We don’t see what follows this scene, but the strategizing is akin to foreplay. Here, George demonstrates his “wife guy” status as he reflects on the merits of the Met: “Your argument for a new opera house holds good. The Academy is too small, too unambitious, and it excludes the people who are making the city great. Why would you give up your goal now?” Bertha notes the goal was the Academy, but he has more up his persuasive sleeve. “At the Met, you’ll be a founding member, and you can reign supreme. You don’t need to be in Mrs. Astor’s shadow,” he concludes.

Rather than wait for Bertha’s answer, Mrs. Astor never contemplates she will say anything but yes. Murphy emphasizes Mrs. Astor’s every patronizing ounce as she tells the group about Bertha’s new box at the Academy, “She’s waited long enough.” What follows is a masterclass of giddy and shocked reactions from each actor in this group scene. Mrs. Astor frames it like Bertha is the one making a scene, but the only person being unreasonable is her. Bertha won’t be drawn into this web and points out that she wasn’t the one who did this “in front of an audience.”

The Gilded Age’s second season has so many petty arguments and grievances it is hard to keep count, but you can all but guarantee that Bertha is leading the charge. Later, as fireworks explode over the city to celebrate the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge, Bertha sneaks a concerned look at Mrs. Astor — a woman who already has everything. It is the first time this season that Bertha is on the back foot, but don’t count her out of this elite society rumble. Opening night at the opera could take off-stage dramatics to new heights in the Season 2 finale, showcasing how low stakes can lead to glorious high drama.

The Gilded Age Season 2 finale airs December 17 at 9:00 PM ET on HBO. Join the discussion about the show in our forums.

Emma Fraser has wanted to write about TV since she first watched My So-Called Life in the mid-90s, finally getting her wish over a decade later. Follow her on Twitter at @frazbelina.