The Julian Fellowes bait-and-switch
If you’ve seen Downton Abbey, you know the drill: sharp-tongued grandmothers, rigid social hierarchies, and enough silver-polishing to fill a museum. On paper, The Gilded Age is the same DNA transplanted to 1880s New York. You have the "old money" van Rhijn family clutching their pearls while the "new money" Russells build a literal palace across the street. The production value is stunning. Every frame looks like a multi-million-dollar oil painting, and the costume department clearly had an unlimited budget for silk and feathers.
But there is a specific friction here that catches people off guard. Because this is an HBO production, it carries the "prestige tax"—which in this case means a sudden pivot from polite tea service to graphic nudity. It creates a weird viewing experience where 95% of the show feels like a history teacher’s dream, and the other 5% makes it impossible to watch with a teenager without an emergency remote scramble. If you’re trying to figure out when period dramas aren’t actually kid-friendly, this show is the ultimate case study. It’s not "steamy" in a fun, romantic way; it’s just HBO being HBO.
Why the 89% critic score matters
Critics went all-in on this show because it finally gives the American Industrial Revolution the "epic" treatment usually reserved for British royals. The writing doesn't just focus on which fork to use; it digs into the brutal mechanics of how the Russells made their money—railroads, union-busting, and backroom political deals.
The most compelling part of the show isn't actually the central feud, but the storyline of Peggy Scott. Her character offers a perspective on the Black elite in 19th-century Brooklyn that rarely gets screen time in mainstream dramas. It adds a layer of intellectual weight that keeps the show from being a total soap opera. However, the audience score (69%) reflects a common frustration: the pacing is glacial. If you aren't already obsessed with 19th-century architecture or the history of the opera house wars, you might find yourself checking your phone during the long stretches of dialogue about seating charts.
How to handle the "Max" of it all
By 2026, we’ve all learned that the "Max" brand is a chaotic mix of high-brow art and high-octane spice. The Gilded Age sits right in the middle. It’s a great example of why navigating HBO in 2026 requires a bit of homework. You can’t trust the "period drama" label to mean "safe for the living room" anymore.
If your teen is a history buff who survived the darker moments of The Crown, they could probably handle the thematic weight here, but the sexual content is handled with a bluntness that feels jarring compared to the rest of the show’s manners.
- If you want the vibes without the MA-rating: Stick to All Creatures Great and Small or the original Downton.
- If you want the drama and don't care about the skin: The Russells are some of the best "love to hate them" characters on TV right now.
- The pro move: Watch the first few episodes solo. The "surprises" aren't constant, but when they hit, they are unmistakable.
This is top-tier "adults-only" comfort food. It’s smart, expensive, and looks better than almost anything else on streaming, just don't let the lace collars fool you into thinking it's a family affair.
