“VENGEANCE SHALL BE MINE!”

“Shouldn’t we leave vengeance to the Lord?”

“Not if we want it done properly.”

If you are a regular viewer of “The Gilded Age,” Julian Fellowes’ American follow-up to “Downton Abbey,” you likely know who is speaking these lines in the upcoming fourth season and exactly what the conversation sounded like. But I’ll tell you anyway: It’s Christine Baranski’s imperious matron Agnes van Rhijn, furious over yet another perceived snub, and her soft-voiced sister Ada Forte (Cynthia Nixon), who knows that it’s not worth getting in the way of Agnes’ wrath but feels compelled to lodge a routine objection anyway. And it’s dialogue like this, delivered in operatic tones by a brilliant cast, that makes the show so much fun. Well, that and the hats.

Premiering in 2022 (the fourth season begins streaming on HBO on Sunday) and set in 1880s New York, “The Gilded Age” had a slow start. I tuned in eagerly to Season 1, only to find myself often disappointed; some of the actors, particularly Louisa Jacobson as Agnes and Ada’s orphaned niece Marian Brook, seemed to be struggling at first with the formal tone of the dialogue, and there was an odd sense of very little happening despite a vast number of characters to keep track of. But things have steadily improved from season to season — who knew that the drama of who is sitting in which opera box, which took up much of Season 2, could be so compelling? — and I’m happy to report that this show has completely found its stride as a lavishly costumed and beautifully acted period soap.

Essentially, the show presents three overlapping worlds, two of which are across from each other on Manhattan’s East 61st Street. On one side: the posh but staid old-school brownstone home of long-widowed Agnes, whose household consists of her sister (who’s been happily married and tragically widowed in short order over the past two seasons), her adult son Oscar van Rhijn (Blake Ritson), Marian and a modest staff of servants. On the other: the much grander new-money Russell family, with robber baron George (Morgan Spector), his scheming wife Bertha (Carrie Coon, who’s almost terrifyingly good here), their grown children Larry (Harry Richardson) and Gladys (Taissa Farmiga), and way more servants than I can possibly keep track of, all of whom seem to have some sort of dark secret.

A third world — and perhaps the show’s most interesting — is represented by Peggy Scott (Denée Benton), an educated young Black writer who works as Agnes’ secretary and gives us a window into the well-off Black community of the period. As the first three seasons progressed, we came to know Peggy’s parents, Arthur (John Douglas Thompson) and Dorothy (Audra McDonald); William Kirkland (Jordan Donica), a young Black doctor with whom she falls in love; and William’s socially prominent parents, Frederick (Brian Stokes Mitchell) and Elizabeth (Phylicia Rashad), the latter of whom does not approve of Peggy in the least. This is not at all fair — Peggy is lovely! — but seriously: If you think you have not been waiting your entire life to watch a pair of icons like McDonald and Rashad elaborately sniping at each other from beneath elegantly towering hats, think again.

I’m not going to reveal any of the twists of Season 4 (rest assured there are many; this show has certainly sorted out that not-much-happening problem), but let’s just say that Fellowes has gone to the “Downton Abbey” well a few times this season, not least of which is a maneuver in the first episode that I’m going to simply call the Lady Sybil Bait & Switch. In its eight episodes, there are weddings, wildly lavish salons, inappropriate couplings, an epic dinner-menu standoff, laudanum addiction, a dash of Gilbert and Sullivan, the world’s most glorious dressing gown (it’s on George Russell, and would that I could steal it) and Baranski’s Agnes announcing, at a volume surely heard across Central Park, “I am ruined! Yet again!” In other words, great fun.

It’s hard to single out standouts in this stacked cast (which includes numerous Broadway veterans), but let me be the millionth to observe that Baranski, who delivers all her lines like offended royalty, is perfection; that Benton beautifully combines a sharp intelligence and a sweet kindness in Peggy; that you never doubt that Coon’s gimlet-eyed Bertha could overturn society and still arrive at her dress fitting on time; and that Nixon’s deceptively gentle, wise Ada has quietly become the heart of the show. And I haven’t even gotten to the glorious hats, which are like elaborate floral-and-feather mountains perched on every female character’s head whenever she leaves her home. Who knows how they walk around underneath those things — do they all have abnormally strong necks? — but what a delight to watch them do it. Bring on Season 5!

———

‘THE GILDED AGE’ SEASON 4

Rating: TV-MA

How to watch: Premieres 9 p.m. ET Nov. 1 on HBO and HBO Max

———

©2026 The Seattle Times. Visit seattletimes.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.