The Gilded Age

The last series drew criticism for being boring. The second certainly doesn't lack in that department but there are a few tasty strands that save the day. The battle of the two opera houses definitely isn't one of them.

It might lack Downton’s family warmth, but it’s glamorous, just-camp-enough comfort-viewing – now more confident and less clumsy than its uneven debut run.

The chemistry between Bertha and George is off the Edith Wharton scale. Still, they remain one-dimensional: made purely of ambition, like the American myth itself. Also the dialogue, in general, is like second-rate champagne. It never fizzes as it should. It takes some effort to give Oscar Wilde a cameo and grant him not one quotable line. And yet. Fellowes’ conservatism is served with just enough perspective to prevent it tipping over into a complete endorsement of the establishment.

The more weight “The Gilded Age” gives these counterpoints to its breezy, feather-light way of being, the more it strains to work everything into one coherent narrative.