HBO's 'The Gilded Age' is smarter (and much sexier) in glittery Season 2

All that glitters isn't gold. But it is entertaining.

It's a sparkling, scintillating second season for HBO's "The Gilded Age" (Sundays, 9 EDT/PDT, ★★★½ out of four). America's answer to "Downton Abbey" (from the same creator, Julian Fellowes), "Gilded" is set in the late 19th-century opulent era of American history. It was a time defined by filthy rich industrialists − think Rockefellers and Vanderbilts − and the people who worked for them. In other words, it's ripe for the kind of soapy upstairs/downstairs (or bankers and steel mill workers) drama that made "Downton" such an addictive success.

When "Gilded" premiered in early 2022, it felt very much in the shadow of its British cousin and afraid to do more than put a Yankee spin on the costume drama. But in its delicious Season 2, "Gilded" has its own debutante coming out party, establishing itself as more than a "Downton" duplicate and embracing the richness of the story it has to tell. The best elements of Season 1 are even bigger in Season 2 − particularly the experiences of the Black and working-class characters. The story of the rise of the American labor movement somehow fits easily alongside another about a clash of upper-crust opera houses and a third featuring Booker T. Washington. Much like the American melting pot, it's more than the sum of its parts.

The new season picks up on Easter Sunday, a time of rebirth and renewal. The fine residents of Manhattan's East 61st Street are thriving, mostly. Young and rebellious Marian Brook (Louisa Jacobson) has recovered from her heartbreak in Season 1; spinster Ada Brook (Cynthia Nixon) catches the eye of their parish's new minister (Robert Sean Leonard); and Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski) remains intractable. Mrs. George Russell (Carrie Coon, always a delight) has firmly established herself in New York society but is stung by the venerated opera house The Academy of Music's refusal to grant her family a precious box. Her husband (Morgan Spector) is more worried about unionization efforts within his railroad company. And Peggy Scott (Denée Benton) isn't in New York at all but in Philadelphia, connecting with long lost family.

The season mostly follows these many narratives, concentrating mostly on the so-called "Opera War" between the old money of the Academy of Music and the new money behind its up-and-coming rival the Metropolitan Opera, which Mrs. Russell supports. (Anyone who has visited Lincoln Center knows which won this particular war). A new man is courting Marian, Peggy throws herself into her work as a reporter for the New York Globe, Larry Russell (Harry Richardson) has a forbidden love affair and Oscar van Rhijn (Blake Ritson) is on the hunt for a rich bride, even if it means never finding true love as a closeted gay man.

"Gilded" balances its stories deftly, the episodes are zippy and absorbing, and most welcome, "Gilded" is simply sexier this time around. The romantic plots, so leaden in Season 1 and almost an afterthought, have real heat. The couples can be as chaste as 19th-century morals require while still steaming up the screen, and the new pairings have genuine chemistry and verve. Even spinster Ada gets some action, far more believably than Nixon's Miranda does in "Sex and the City" revival "And Just Like That," on HBO's streaming sister, Max.

And then there are the sobering moments that remind viewers who is behind all the wealth displayed at the Russell and van Rhijn houses. Peggy and her boss T. Thomas Fortune (Sullivan Jones) visit the historical Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, and she experiences the racism of the South for the first time. When George tries to buy off the leader of a burgeoning union as his company, it makes us squirm a little bit as we realize we've been rooting for the robber baron, who is fighting violently against the dignity of the eight-hour workday.

Yet in its forays into the social strata of the era, Fellowes and the "Gilded" writers do not forget the giddy silliness and escapist drama that comes from watching the rich be their extravagantly ridiculous selves. Perhaps the most tense and heart-pounding moment in the new season comes while a parade of footmen is serving soup at a fancy dinner (you'll know it when you see it).

Not every TV show can make its low-stakes drama feel so exceptionally important. And certainly, no other show has bustles as big as these.