Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Chris Revelle | TV | August 12, 2025
Fellow opera-lovers, robber barons, and society gossips, we’ve made it to the end of another season of our favorite period soap opera. The third season of The Gilded Age, far and away the best season of the series so far, came to a suitably messy conclusion with some plotlines resolved and others left dangling. The finale (“My Mind Is Made Up”) was a good representative of the third season as a whole in how it resolves some genuinely affecting and compelling storylines while falling prey to some enduring bad instincts. The Gilded Age became a much better show than it was before, and those growing pains produced some unevenness, particularly in how characters were developed and framed. All the same, the finale served up a wealth of twists and new stories to pick up in the fourth season. For the first time in the series’ life, I’m unironically interested in what The Gilded Age does next.
The finale makes admirable work of a slightly overstuffed tangle of plots by centering them largely around the big Newport ball. Starting with the most urgent, George Russell is saved by the quick thinking of Dr. William, Peggy’s painfully handsome beau. He happened to be across the street visiting Peggy and Russell’s usual doctor was too late. In between saving the life of the hottest union-buster in New York, he confronts Peggy about her tragic past and asks for time to think. Elizabeth Kirkland is all too pleased with herself and swans into Dorothy Scott’s dress fitting before the big Newport Ball to rub it in like the thorough asshole she is. Dorothy isn’t having it and reads Elizabeth for filth. That’s not the last sharp word Elizabeth gets on the matter; her son, and especially her husband, lay into her too. William arrives at the ball and states once and for all that he isn’t turned away by Peggy’s past. He kneels in the middle of the dance floor and proposes. Peggy accepts! A triumph after all the headwinds they had to face.
Marian and Larry pick up their fight about the evening he spent in a den of iniquity
right after she helps William save George. Larry makes the excellent point that if Marian needed Jack’s corroboration to believe him, then they should reconsider their relationship. Marian points out that she’s more motivated by her past issues with men, and they part tearfully. The two tortured lovebirds reunite at the ball and have an open-ended conversation about where they go next. They’ve both wronged each other in some way, but it doesn’t entirely rise to the level of hurt they’re feeling. Adding drama to their romance was a good choice, but given how relatively minor their conflict is, it feels a bit like a reach to have it threaten their relationship this deeply.
Some other odds and ends wrap up before the grand drama that awaits at the end of the finale. Sweet Jack, too pure for this world, is lonely in his big house until Bridget comes to visit with some of Mrs. Bauer’s lamb stew. The framing mildly suggests this might turn romantic, but Jack appreciates the company. Lina Astor plans to skip the ball because Bertha had the gall to invite divorced women like Mrs. Fane and Lina’s daughter. Lina relents and reassures her daughter that she’s not an embarrassment. Oscar meets up with Mrs. Winterton (née Turner), who’s newly single because Mr. Winterton just died. He pitches a marriage of convenience as a schemey power couple, and she seems interested. Agnes finally steps aside and lets Ada take her place at the head of the table after Ada facilitates Agnes’ new position at the historical society. Gladys and Hector are happy together, and Gladys is much more self-possessed. Bertha is thrilled, but unfortunately, George is not.
George appears at the ball after taking some time to recover. Bertha is delighted and doesn’t seem to notice that his word choices, like “just like you wanted,” are putting some ominous writing on the wall. He’s not returning home and rips into a shocked Bertha for being too ruthless to their own family. George claims that his near-death experience has made him re-examine his priorities, and Bertha’s marrying off Gladys to the duke is something he can’t abide. Boo! If George wanted to stop it, he could have refused to pay the dowry or simply shut the whole thing down. Regret is understandable, but this one-sided scene places the blame entirely on Bertha. It’s very awkward to see the series frame George as being morally superior when it’s doubtful his change of conscience will include livable wages for his workers. Bertha and George are villains together, and it feels like a cop-out to pretend she’s somehow more evil than he is. As with Larry and Marian, the split is an excellent idea, but it doesn’t feel earned by how they got there.
Thankfully, The Gilded Age was renewed for a fourth season. While there are things that need some work, the series has proven it can build up to bigger and better things. Maybe if we all wish together, the next season will be even greater.
