Review: The Gilded Age, "My Mind Is Made Up" | Season 3, Episode 8
A cotillion of divorceés and parvenues, tricksters and demimondaines

Season 3’s finale begins with a carriage rushing through the twilight streets of New York City, galloping hooves pounding the packed earth. And the pace only gets faster from there. For all the storylines that move toward resolution (or simply into a new phase of conflict), what is most striking about this hour of television is the impression of speed, accelerating as the climactic events draw near, achieved through cross-cutting between conversations, lines, and even moments.
It’s an ingenious way to bring together the parallel worlds of Newport, black and white, and the balls that close the social season for both. For the Scotts and Kirklands, the drama revolves around whether their families will unite, and what that means for Elizabeth’s colorist and classist gatekeeping. For the Russells and Astors, we hold our breath to see if Bertha’s effort to throw open those gates from a position of social privilege will succeed or fail. The cross-cutting takes us back and forth as guests arrive, are received, gossip, watch each other, and dance. Each phase of the ball brings its own tensions, resolutions, triumphs, and defeats.
And while it might be less viscerally satisfying to end the season with so many relationships only beginning to mend or break, rather than firmly repaired or shattered, I prefer this kind of ending over quickly wrapping things up so we can move on. I even dare to hope that, just as some subtle-dropped threads in early were picked up in later ones this season, we haven’t completely put the Russell’s business problems to rest. (I still think Larry’s copper venture entails risks that the family is choosing to downplay, and would like to see them reappear as a complication next season.)