THE GILDED AGE: Ex-Communicated

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Foghorn Leghorn writes a book! Oscar Van Rhijn screams “Gay rights!” Pumpkin goes for a walk! Jack buys a house! Gladys wraps a duke around her finger! And Julian Fellowes finally pulls the trigger (pun very much intended). Oh, it’s all happening now on this week’s episode of Bitches in Bustles. Our chief complaint about The Gilded Age this season is that showrunner Fellowes is too timid in his writing and needs to just let the show be the big messy nighttime soap opera it so clearly wants to be. And while the majority of the character interactions fail to make total sense (which is a feature in his writing), at least he’s loosening up a little and having fun with it.

Ward McCallister has inexplicably Truman Capote’d himself all over society, writing a scandalous tell-all about the lives and scandals of the elites of society. Every society lady has either read it or had one of her servants do so and they’re all furious. Lina Astor convenes a meeting of very concerned hats and we were struck by two things: first, that it was held in Agnes’ parlor and second, that Bertha was invited to it. It says something about how far she’s risen that she would be called to a meeting like this, but why would it be held at the Van Rhijn house? Fellowes tends to treat the sisters as leading lights of society when it suits him, but there’s no reason why either of them would be placed so prominently in these affairs. One was a spinster for most of her life and the other’s been a widow for decades. Women like that tended to be sidelined. Regardless, Ada is thrilled that Lina thanked her for hosting the meeting. Our only complaint here is that Bertha’s presence in Agnes’s house should have been treated as a bit more of a moment. At the very least, Agnes would have been put out by her presence.

Downstairs, Miss Armstrong is tickled by all of the gossip, reporting to her fellow servants that the book mentions Agnes’s financial problems and mentions “some things about Mr. Oscar that I don’t understand,” causing Bridget and Mrs. Bauer to exchange a look. Bridget is pondering what to do with her money from Jack and Mrs. Bauer is urging her to buy a party dress.

Across the street, Hot Beard is still ice cold to Bertha, who remains completely confused as to what exactly his problem is. We’re with her. As she noted, things are apparently resolved and smoothed over with Gladys (which is admittedly pretty frustrating to see this storyline come to nothing), so his anger with her over the wedding he approved and paid for himself just doesn’t make any sense. Sure, we get that it’s all misplaced anger over his financial issues, but we really wish Bertha would just read him the riot act and get it over with. Instead she pleads with him to show a unified front because “Mr. McCallister’s book paints us in a horrible light.” She urges him to come to the Newport ball as a show of solidarity but he barks at her some more. She’s finally starting to realize the gravity of the situation but we don’t like seeing a Bertha acting so conciliatory toward him.

Ar Schmownton Shmabbey, news of the Russells’ precarious financial situation arrives, prompting Lady Sarah to order Hector to send Gladys back as if she were an unruly puppy. The Duke, however, is becoming smitten with his wife and tells her that she won’t have to worry about her fate, all of which is just a weensy bit fucked up. Still, Gladys applies the lessons she learned from her mother and tells Hector that he’s far too manly a man to be dealing with his bossy sister. “The money doesn’t matter,” he tells her. “But you do.” What a charming and unforeseen 180 degree change in direction! Oh, well. They do make a cute couple.

Oscar is trying to put on a brave face in front of his family in the wake of John Adams’s death. “He’s a man. Men don’t feel these things the way we do,” Agnes says confidently. But he won’t be able to forget his love any time soon because Oscar lives in a Julian Fellowes drama which means when a rich person dies, another rich person gets a new house. John’s sister reveals to Oscar that she knew all about her brother’s ways and that he kept a picture of Oscar in his nightstand. She tells him that John wanted him to have his summer home and she grants him the deed. It’s a lovely scene, although there’s not a lot of reason to consider it historically accurate regarding societal attitudes toward gay men. Certainly, men of this class were able to move through the world if they were smart about how they conducted themselves, and people of this class might have made certain concessions toward them so long as things never got discussed, but this scene truly strains credulity. Fellowes granted the gay butler on Downton Abbey a little more leeway to live his life than would have been acceptable for the times, and we can understand the impulse to do so, because if you truly wanted to depict the lives of gay men during the Victorian era, they’d all be unhappily married to women, which isn’t much fun for modern audiences.

Oscar comes home and has a huge gay meltdown in front of his mother, aunt and cousin and to be honest, it was kind of bracing to see him just let it out like that. It was also surprisingly pleasant to see someone yell at Agnes for being such a bitch. To be fair, she had no idea that her son was in mourning, but still. It’s nice to see someone put that sharp tongue back in her mouth. Blake Ritson was truly great in this scene. We haven’t always felt that he, as a straight actor (who’s partnered with the actress who plays Lady Sarah, by the way), was doing the best job with this character (his scenes with Claybourne Elder, who is gay, tended to highlight the difference), but his agony and heartbreak were palpable, as was the pain of being forbidden from expressing them. After his outburst, it’s interesting to note the reaction of each woman. Marian clearly knew the score, Ada seems to have figured it out, and Agnes’s brain, having been confronted with a truth she refused to see her whole life, shuts down completely. Marian visits him in his room and they have the kind of frank, loving conversation that two people in their position absolutely would never have had in 1884.

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Foghorn Leghorn is refused admittance to some society party. Meanwhile. Mrs. Astor continues to discuss her daughter’s marital problems and nothing about this story has any urgency to it. We don’t know any of the people involved. It’s obvious that the Astor scandal and McCallister’s book (both of which are true things that happened) are meant to spur Bertha’s continued rise in society, but we don’t understand why so little time has been spent with these people. We don’t know Lina’s daughter outside of a few minor scenes, nor do we know her husband or her purported lover. It’s this huge story driving multiple plotlines, but it’s all happened offscreen.

The servants catch the Actually French ladies maid leaving the house and meeting with strange people. She shrugs, says “Monay is monay” and leaves.  This entire no-stakes storyline has seemingly wrapped up. We’re very happy for all of the Broadway actors involved in this story for getting to keep their SAG AFTRA health insurance, which was, we presume, the reason for it.

Marian’s school won’t be hosting Frances Ellen Watkins Harper’s suffragism talk because racism. Also because sexism, but mostly it’s the racism. Ada suggests hosting the meeting herself. With that problem solved, Peggy tries to get Marian to cut Larry Russell a little slack and it’s interesting how the conversation unfolded. Peggy, who has a series of scandals in her own past, advocates for giving people the chance to explain their actions and Marian, who’s led a pretty sheltered life in comparison, is firm in her stance that there’s no point in talking to Larry. We can understand why she’d want to call off the engagement, but she’s being a brat about it.

Lina has Bertha over for tea and tells her that she’s cancelling her Newport ball because her daughter is such a skank. Again, we wish there was some small acknowledgement that moments like these are everything Bertha’s been working for. Bertha presses Lina to show strength in the face of gossip. “How can I hold the ball but keep my own daughter’s name off the guest list?”she asks not unreasonably. Outside, Bertha gives Foghorn the cold shoulder. Back inside, Lina does more of the same. Foghorn forces himself into her house and gets a little nasty with her. “You can’t throw me out of society. I am society. I made your society out of a bunch of get-rich-quick merchants and walking jokes.” She responds by noting how hard she worked to “smooth your Savannah ways,” and he takes things a step too far by calling her a sad rich lady whose husband prefers showgirls. She rings her tiny little bell. It’s over. We wish the writing would give some slight explanation for all of this.

Larry returns from Morenci, receives Marian’s letter and runs across the street, where Ada tries to explain by not explaining anything. He says that this doesn’t make any sense and we have to agree with him on that part. He goes home and informs his father that they now own copper mines worth tens of millions of dollars. Everyone is briefly happy, until Larry announces that Marian has called off their engagement. Hot Beard and Larry both decide it’s all Bertha’s fault. “Your ambition is out of control,” Hot Beard says to her non-sequiturally. “We’re both ambitious,” she counters with understandable confusion. “True, but when was the last time you asked any of us what we wanted? Now stop asking me stupid questions about our business and let me handle things. Shoo. Go on now.” We’re ready for Bertha to start burning shit down.

Meanwhile, Ada’s about ready to slap her histrionic niece, who refuses to speak to Larry or give him any sort of explanation. It’s one thing to call it off, she has her reasons for that, but this childish refusal to even speak to him is making her look silly. All credit to Louise Jacobson, who’s really improved in this part, possibly because the writing has been slightly leaning into how annoying Marian can be. She notes (rightly) that every man in her life has failed her and follows that up by saying she might be better off as a spinster, which sets Ada right off. “This is nothing you want, I can assure you.” Larry goes to Marian’s school and demands to know why she called off the engagement and she tells him. He insists that he only had a drink at the Haymarket. “I am a lady,” she retorts, “But I am not an idiot!” and we would just like to point out that Fellowes is completely aware of how the audience reacts to his writing. It’s actually one of his strengths as a showrunner, which means that line is deliberate. It’s written so that the audience at home will respond out loud with “Are you sure about that, girl?” She points out that he lied about where he was going, which briefly shuts him up, and she makes it clear that she won’t budge.

Hot Beard invites Risley Sage over and kicks him in the nuts. Sage fires Sith Lord on the spot and Hot Beard gloats, telling him he’ll never get a decent job ever again. “I’m like a cockroach with a thousand lives,” he says as he leaves, mixing his metaphors. So, like a cockroach…crossed with a cat? Times a hundred… and ten? Not much for exit lines, that one.

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Foghorn calls upon Bertha. “My expulsion was more complete than I expected,” he notes. She asks him why he did it, and he says something about wanting to show the people that the elite, who “live like the kings of France, are ordinary people.” but as explanations go, that’s a frustrating one because nothing about McCallister’s character as presented would explain that impulse — or his lack of foresight as to the consequences. She tells him that she’ll be hosting the Newport ball and he chuckles at the news. “Make society yours,” he implores her. She mentions that she’ll end the ban on divorced women but she won’t be inviting him. He tries to argue that his “offense” isn’t as great as any divorced woman’s and she notes that divorced women either aren’t at fault, or are guilty of sins for which men are routinely forgiven. Her voice rises as she says “The truth is, there but for the grace of God go us all,” which gives the game away. Bertha sees the writing on the wall for her own marriage and she’s using what social power she’s been granted to make things a little easier for her when things go south.

At Shmownton Shmabbey, the second American Revolution is in full swing. With Hector under her thumb and thrall, Gladys is choosing her own dresses and wants to start planning the menu, while putting her sister-in-law in her place. When Sarah makes a bitchy comment about Bertha wanting to show her off, Gladys calls her “sad,” and leaves her sputtering. Hector suggests she get the fuck out but it says it in an upper class British way so it almost sounds polite. They announce that they’ll be taking the Concorde over so that they can attend Bertha’s ball.

Marian takes Jack house-hunting and it’s insane what a little bit of money could get you in 1880s New York. He chooses a house that makes the Van Rhijn manse look like, well… servants’ quarters. He needs to hire Mrs. Bauer and start squiring Bridget. Clearly emboldened by his new social status, he addresses Marian as a peer and asks her what she’s going to do about Larry. This is a question he would have rather died than ask just a couple of weeks ago. He assures her that Larry didn’t do a thing at the Haymarket. She seems to believe him, which will likely force the question of why she’d believe Jack but not Larry.

William and Peggy are having a picnic in the park, 1880s style. We were distracted through the whole scene watching her in a corset and him in a three piece suit, hat and gloves, trying to “relax” on a blanket. Anyway, she mentions how much of a bitch his mother is, in so many words, and he responds by inviting her to the upcoming ball his father’s church is holding. Later, Frances Ellen Watkins Harper gives a successful talk at the suffrage meeting. Mrs. Foster of the New York Heritage Society introduces herself and flatters Agnes over her “lineage” but Agnes waves her off, assuming she wants money from her. It seems strange that she’s not speaking to Ada who has the exact same lineage and has money. Peggy’s girlfriends tease her about Dr. Kirkland and Marian makes an ass out of herself by using that moment to declare that women don’t need men. We like how the writing this season is leaning into Marian being a bit of a pill.

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Meanwhile, Leslie Uggams is in Newport having tea with Mrs. Kirkland and dropping bombs about Peggy’s past. Mrs. Kirkland, thrilled to finally have a gun in her hand (so to speak) hightails it to New York where she gleefully informs her son that Peggy is a “tarnished woman with a dead child.” He immediately goes to the Van Rhijn residence to see her.

At Hot Beard’s office, a gunman appears! George’s secretary is shot! A bullet is fired directly at Hot Beard! COCKROACH HAS HIS REVENGE! And we clap our hands with delight.

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