Last season on Max‘s The Gilded Age, we were introduced to George and Bertha Russell, a wealthy couple struggling to gain admittance into New York society in 1882 Manhattan. This season, the Russells have gained traction and are ready to take over society, even if they have to ruffle some (more) feathers along the way. The Julian Fellowes series deftly combines historical events with fictional characters for a show that lovingly, opulently embraces one of the most influential periods in New York’s history.

Opening Shot: Hats! So many hats. Feathery, flowery, put-a-bird-on-it hats, towering I-hope-that-person-isn’t-seated-in-front-of-me-at-the-theater-level hats, all pulled one by one from their boxes, it can only mean one thing: It’s Easter Sunday in New York.

The Gist:The Gilded Age season two picks up after the events of season one, in 1883. The major issues of the day include the fact that Bertha Russell can’t seem to get off the wait list for a box at the Academy of Music, as well as the fact that George Russell’s pesky unionized railroad workers are threatening to strike. Both Russells have plans for how to handle their respective situations though: Bertha plans to recruit other wealthy patrons to the newly-built Metropolitan Opera House, which will be directly competing with the Academy for wealthy patrons this opera season. In doing do, Bertha is perhaps fashioning herself as Mrs. Astor 2.0, a new queen bee of society, albeit one who is more accepting of people like herself, and the new Met will be their home base. Meanwhile, George plans to band together with other magnates and titans, Gould, Vanderbilt, and the like, to prevent their workers from having, you know, rights. This is the labor strike as told from the POV of the capitalists whose mansions were built off the sweat of their workers.

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The Gilded Age‘s scripts are meticulous, I guess you could say even gilded, though not with gold but with subplot. So many layers of subplot. If the Russells are typically at the center of the show’s A-stories, the dozens of supporting characters who orbit them all have rich, complex lives, too. This season, Marian Brook (Louisa Jacobson), has secretly started teaching at a girls’ school, while also trying to recover from being jilted at the alter by that scoundrel-lawyer Tom Raikes last season. Marian’s dear, tapestry-embroidering Aunt Ada (Cynthia Nixon) is what you might call a spinster, a fate Marian worries will befall her, too. Marian’s friend Peggy Scott (Deneé Benton) is struggling after the death of her toddler son, a boy she never even met, but whose death has torn apart her immediate family.

Oscar van Rhijn (Blake Ritson), the gay son of Mayflower descendant Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) is struggling with his identity: unable to fully live his truth out in the open, he spends his time trying to win over Gladys Russell (Taissa Farmiga), whose wealth and ovaries would ensure him a life of comfort and heirs to his family name, though he’d have to find romance elsewhere. And even beyond these subplots, we’re treated to the romances, friendships, and sometimes mysterious inner lives of the many servants in the van Rhijn and Russell homes. One of the great things about season two is that stories that were set up last season are now, finally, also paying off, and while these are rarely the focal point of most episodes they add color, and often humor, to lighten the show’s mood.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? The Gilded Age is Downton Abbey by way of Edith Wharton’s late 19th Century classics like The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth.

Our Take: There is something about this era in history that is endlessly fascinating. Though it only lasted a few of decades at the end of the 19th century, the decadence of the Gilded Age makes for an addictive treat. Maybe it’s the fact that watching the wealthy tear themselves apart and competing for status makes the rest of us normies feel better about ourselves. But I suspect it’s also because so many norms of gilded-era society that sound ridiculous are, in fact, true.

Last season we watched as Edison brought electricity to New York, but only a select few were invited to watch as the lights came on. There was a great debate over English vs. French table service. We learned about one man, Ward McAllister, whose 400 List was the arbiter of who’s who in polite society. They sound silly to us now, but these were Very Serious Topics back then. This season we’re privy to the very real opera wars that divided the city’s elite when the Met first opened. We’re watching the labor strikes that rocked the steel and railway industries (granted, we’re watching them unfold from the perspectives of the men who wanted to stop them). And all of these things that really happened at that time are artfully woven together into a narrative that combines elements of fact and fiction in a way that makes you question which characters are real and which were invented.

In looking back on a time where status was power and favors were currency, The Gilded Age is so compelling because spends the majority of its time with the women of the era, who wielded what power they had with abandon. While their husbands were building up America’s infrastructure, they were patrons of the arts and architecture, throwing their family money at all the beauty that they could, and this is a large part of their story. Yes, they’re upholding the patriarchy that their husbands are building out of steel and gold, but they’re responsible for many of the cultural institutions in the city. (I say this while fully acknowledging the white privilege and perspective inherent to their stories.) The will and drive of many of these real women is what helped build New York. The in-fighting, the class warfare, the sheer petulance of them, as depicted in the show, that’s what makes good TV.

Sex and Skin: None so far, though season one featured a sharp dose of nudity.

Parting Shot: Mrs. Russell, in a surprise for her dinner guests, brings out famous opera singer Christina Nilsson, who serenades them with a song from Gounod’s Faust. It’s a boss move, something even Mrs. Astor, who stands among the guests, could never have pulled off. And it shows that Bertha is not a woman you can easily dismiss.

Performance Worth Watching: One of the main reasons to watch this show is for Carrie Coon’s scheming but still vulnerable portrayal of Bertha Russell. In Coon’s hands, Bertha is almost Machiavellian in her use of manipulation to climb the social ladder, and yet the fact that she came from humble beginnings still makes her an underdog you can’t help but wish would topple the ruling class. Christine Baranski gets a more-than-honorable mention for being the show’s comic relief. The sharp, insulting barbs she lobs at anyone and everyone promenade out of her mouth like high society ladies on their way to church.

Memorable Dialogue: When Agnes announces that she has received a letter from her husband’s nephew Dashiell, her sister Ada tells Marian that Agnes’s husband was named Arnold. “Were you on first name terms? I wasn’t, and I was his wife,” Agnes snaps.

Our Call: STREAM IT! The Gilded Age is lavish, prestige TV. It’s a period drama for people who love New York, who love Broadway (so many Broadway stars lurking in every horse-drawn carriage!), and who love watching incredible actors chew the scenery. Both serious and soapy, it’s a delight.

Liz Kocan is a pop culture writer living in Massachusetts. Her biggest claim to fame is the time she won on the game show Chain Reaction.